Buckhorn Beginnings: Sawyer. Lori Foster

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her side, she hadn’t kicked off her blankets again. He’d worried about it, and gone back and forth from his office to her room several times during the day, unable to stay away. After Casey had finished up his chores, he promised to stay close in case she called out.

       She hadn’t had any lunch, and it was now nearing dinnertime. When Sawyer entered the room, he saw his son sitting on the patio through the French doors. He had the small cat with him that Jordan had brought home. Using a string, he enticed the cat to pounce and jump and roll.

       This time Honey was on her back, both arms flung over her head. He could see her legs were open beneath the covers. She was sprawled out, taking up as much room as her small body could in the full-size bed. In his experience, most women slept curled up, like a cat, but not Honey. A man would need a king-size bed to accommodate her.

       He was still smiling when he stepped outside with Casey. “She been sleeping okay?”

       “Like the dead.” Casey glanced up at him, then yelped when the cat attacked his ankle. “She looks like someone knocked her out, doesn’t she? I’ve never seen anyone sleep so hard. The cat got loose and jumped up on the bed and before I could catch her, she’d been up one side and down the other, but the woman never so much as moved.”

       “She’s a sound sleeper, and I think she was pretty exhausted, besides. Thanks for keeping a watch on her.”

       Sawyer saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned. Honey was propped up on one elbow, her hair hanging forward around her face, her eyes squinted at the late-afternoon sunshine. Most of the day it had continued to drizzle, and now that the sun was out, the day was so humid you could barely draw a deep breath.

       Honey looked vaguely confused, so he went in to her. Casey followed with the cat trailing behind.

       “Hello, sleepyhead.”

       She looked around as if reorienting herself. The small cat made an agile leap onto the bed, then settled herself in a semicircle at the end of Honey’s feet, tucking her bandaged tail in tight to sleep. Honey stared at the cat as if she’d never seen one before. “What time is it?”

       “Five o’clock. You missed lunch, but dinner will be ready soon.”

       Casey stepped forward to retrieve the new pet, but Honey shook her head. “She’s okay there. I don’t mind sharing the bed.”

       Casey smiled at her. They all loved and accepted animals, thanks to Jordan, and it pleased his son that their guest appeared to be of a similar mind. “You want something to drink?”

       She thought about that for a moment, then finally nodded. “Yes, please.”

       Sawyer was amused by her sluggish responses and said, “Make it orange juice, Case.”

       “Sure thing.”

       Once Casey was gone, Sawyer studied her. She yawned hugely behind her hand, then apologized.

       “I can’t believe I slept so long.”

       He resisted the urge to say, I told you so, and stuck to the facts instead. “You’ve got bronchitis, which can take a lot out of you, not to mention you’re just getting over a concussion. Sleep is the best thing for you.”

       She sat back and tucked the covers around her waist. After a second, she said, “I’m sorry about arguing with you earlier. I know you mean well.”

       “But you don’t trust me?”

       She shrugged. “Trust is a hard thing. I’m not generally the best judge of character.”

       This sounded interesting, so he pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable. “How so?”

       She gave him a wary look, but was saved from answering when Casey came back in. He handed her the glass of iced orange juice and a napkin.

       “Thank you.”

       “No problem.” He turned to Sawyer. “I’m going to go down and do some more work on the fence.”

       “Only for about an hour. Dinner will be ready by then.”

       “All right.”

       As Casey started out, Honey quickly set her glass aside and lifted a hand. “Casey!”

       He turned, his look questioning.

       “I noticed your shoulders are getting a little red. Have you been out in the sun much lately?”

       “Uh…” He glanced at his father, then back to Honey. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve been outside, but there hasn’t really been much sun till just a bit ago.”

       “I know it’s none of my business, but you should really put on a shirt or something. Or at least some sunscreen. You don’t want to burn.”

       Sawyer frowned at her, then looked at Casey. Sure enough, there was too much color on his son’s wide shoulders and back. Casey looked, too, then grimaced. “I guess it was so cloudy today, I didn’t think about it.”

       She looked prim as she lectured. “You can burn even through the clouds. I guess because I’m so fair, I’m especially conscious of the sun. But I’d hate to see you damage your skin.”

       Casey stared at her, looking totally dumbfounded. Too much sunshine was probably the last thing the average fifteen-year-old would have on his mind. “I’ll, uh…I’ll put some sunscreen on. Thanks.”

       Sawyer added, “And a shirt, Case.”

       “Yeah, okay.” He hurried out before he drew any more attention.

       Sawyer looked at Honey. She was smiling, and she looked so sweet, she took his breath away. He didn’t like her interference with his son, but since she was right this time, he couldn’t very well lecture her on it.

       “You have a wonderful son.”

       He certainly thought so. “Thank you.”

       “He doesn’t really look like you. Does he take after his mother?”

       “No.”

       She looked startled by his abrupt answer, and Sawyer wished he could reach his own ass to kick it. He didn’t want her starting in on questions he didn’t want to answer, but his attitude, if he didn’t temper it, would prompt her to do just that.

       “I got your clothes washed. If you’re feeling up to a bath, we can get that taken care of before dinner, then you can change.” Not that he wanted her trussed up in lots of clothes when she looked so enticing wearing what she had on. But he knew it’d be safer for his peace of mind if she at least had panties on.

       Except that he’d already seen the tiny scrap of peach silk she considered underwear, and knowing she wore that might be worse than knowing she was bare, sort of like very sweet icing on a luscious cake.

       Luckily he’d done the laundry while no one else was around. He didn’t want his brothers envisioning her in the feminine, sexy underwear. But he knew they would have if they’d seen it. He could barely get the thought out of his mind.

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