Marriage to the Second Degree - Part 1 (3 page)

As those five words hung between them, Mckenzie stared at her glass, the flickering candlelight sparkling off the fluted crystal.  “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure why I’m here.  All I know is that you confuse the hell out of me.”

Insects droning in the night hummed in the background as Mckenzie took a self-conscious sip.  She wasn’t sure what was happening, or even what she wanted to happen.  Until yesterday she had always assumed Sawyer hated her for the way their relationship ended, and a part of her had wanted to hate him, too. 

The slight clink of his wineglass being set on the railing in front of them jolted her uncertainty, and when he lifted her wineglass out of her hand to
join his on the railing, her barely held together calm crumbled.  He intended to kiss her, and given the sudden up tempo of her heart, she doubted if she would stop him.

The light touch of his hand guided her mouth to his to connect once, twice, then by degree his kiss lingered.  Mckenzie’s thoughts scattered, her hands clenched in her lap.  As if on its own accord, her mouth moved with his.  Softly.  Slowly.  Touching him seemed too intimate, but pulling away apparently wasn’t an option either.

His kiss remained innocent, his hand staying at her waist.  In general, Sawyer was an upfront kind of guy, not one to play games or attempt to disguise his feelings just to appear cool, but generally Mckenzie
’s
more complex emotions needed to be coaxed out of hiding.  Sawyer’s frankness often motivated her to be honest, but such honesty often left her feeling slightly vulnerable.  In the past she had made the effort to communicate openly with him because she loved him, but she wasn’t sure if those same rules still applied.

Easing slightly away from her, his hand nuzzled her waist while _he tasted his way down her throat, the erotic warmth of his mouth sent shivers slithering up her spine.  Longing for what once was pooled, making her ache for things she hadn’t felt in a long time, and not all of them had to do with sex. 

“Sawyer,” she said, her intimate longings scaring her more than his kiss, inspired her to press a hand against his chest, the smooth fabric of his
denim shirt cool behind her touch.

Taking the hint, he backed off.

“Are you still confused?” he asked,
with a touch
of
concern;
however there was nothing di
luted about the heat in his gaze
.

“More than ever
.”

Her uncertainty hung between them, tainting the moment, edging it with awkwardness.  The desire to continue kissing her lingered in his eyes, she suspected hers mirrored the same desire, but this was all too much, he was too much.

Then apparently having reached some kind of decision about the situation, the lick of desire in his eyes dimmed as he leaned away from her.  “In that case, I guess I’d better take you home.” 

Taking her hand, he drew her to her feet.

Thoughts scattered in a hundred directions, she said little on the drive back to town.  She could no longer hide behind the pretense that she had no clue what was happening between them, although she had no idea if that was good or bad. 
However
given her luck it was most likely bad, maybe even a smidge horrible, and with a touch of disastrous thrown in for good measure.

Standing on the front porch, the subtle glow of the porch light illuminating his handsome features, Sawyer laced her hand with his, the gentle touch of his fingers soothing yet at the same riddled her with uncertainty. 

“Can I see you again?” he asked, standing just close enough she found it difficult to focus on anything else.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly, struggling against the insane desire to press against him and continue where that kiss had left off.  “I’m not trying to play games with you, Sawyer, but you have to admit this is kind of coming out of nowhere.  I need a bit of time to think.  Can I call you in a few days?”

She saw no reason to leave him hanging as he hadn’t pushed himself on her.  Not that she had expected him to.  Sawyer didn’t have to push himself on women to get laid.

“Promise you’ll call no matter what you decide?”  The light play of his fingers beneath her chin threatened to overcome her need to maintain some distance.

“I promise,” she agreed, seeing little harm in making him that promise.

A moment ticked passed
as a dozen unsaid things
flicked between them
,
and for an instant she thought he might say something more, but all he said was, “Fair enough.” 

Lightly, his mouth again found hers, the cadence of her heart making her realize her protests were accomplishing little in putting barriers between them given he seemed to be able to brush them aside with a simple kiss.  And as he walked back to his truck, the overhead moon hanging askew in the night sky, Mckenzie’s leaned weakly against the porch railing, her desolate sigh betraying her confusion. 

She had a sneaking suspicion she was still in love with him, and heart wasn’t sure if it was ready for another round.

Chapter Three

“So what’s going on with you and Mckenzie?”  Jason Stampley took a healthy swig of his iced tea as he leaned against the edge of Sawyer’s cluttered desk.

Normally Sawyer kept his work space fairly neat, but these past few days tidiness had flown out the window along with his optimism that he and Mckenzie would ever work things out. 

“Hell if I know.”  Sawyer shoved back his chair, the wheels coasting over the plastic runner beneath his desk.  His efforts to write resulted in lon
g minutes staring blankly at his
laptop screen, and his usual methods to inspire productiveness had also failed.

Out of desperation Sawyer had called Jason.  Jason could be a major pain in the ass, but he had a certain flair for stringing words together.  He worked for one of Milwaukee’s more respected newspapers and penned crime novels on the side.  Whenever Sawyer was out of ideas, Jason was often the catalyst to get things flowing again. 

“Mckenzie said she’d call in a few days, but
I don’t know
if she will,” Sawyer added, pouring another cup of coffee.  His fifth since this morning.
  Granted she had promised to call, and typically she kept her promises,
well, except the promise she made to marry him.

It was probably best if he didn’t dwell on that.

“Well, she had dinner with you, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she did, but the only thing she told me was that she was confused.”  And confused didn’t sound promising.  Confused sounded like she’d probably tell him to go to hell.

“Didn’t she spend the night?”

“No.”  Sawyer shook his head. 

Jason’s eyebrows lifted.  “You had Mckenzie out here, all to yourself and you didn’t sleep with her?”

“I didn’t want to make her any more confused than she already is.” 

He probably could have slept with her.  She hadn’t attempted to pull away when he kissed her, and he was fairly certain if he pressed it, he could have gotten her in bed.  A little sweet talk, a few heated kisses, and she would have most likely stayed the night.  But then what?  He didn’t want to just get laid.  He wanted Mckenzie back in his life, and that wouldn’t happen if he came on too strong before she was sure of what she want_ed.

“Well, at least tell me that you kissed her.”  Jason shuffled absently through a pile of papers Sawyer often used to jot down ideas.  The papers were for the most part useless, given once Sawyer had applied the ideas to his story, he rarely looked at them again, but it annoyed him when people handled his stuff without asking. 

However saying none of this to Jason, although unable to prevent some
annoyance from crawling into his tone, Sawyer said, “Yes, I kissed her.”  He then dumped a fair bit of sugar into his coffee and stirred.  No doubt it would be too sweet, but his annoyance at the moment was such, he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Jason paused, stopping to pursue a sketch Sawyer had made of what Poseidon’s underwater domain might look like.  “And?” he asked, his lifted eyebrows indicating he was expecting details. 

Not likely.

“And what?”  Sawyer rolled back to his desk, the chair wheels skittering beneath him.  “I kissed her.  End of story.  What is this, junior high?”

“Well, there’s no need to get pissy.”  Jason returned the stack of papers to Sawyer’s desk, although not in their original order, which was another thing
Sawyer found annoying, along
with the word ‘pissy’. 
In
his current frame of mind, calling Jason had most likely been a mistake.  “Can I at least ask why it took you three years to decide you wanted her back?”

Knowing from experience that Jason wouldn’t shut up about something until he was good and ready, Sawyer tapped aside his annoyance.  After all, it wasn’t really Jason’s fault Sawyer was in this mood in the first place.

“Because the first year after she moved out, I was too damned mad.  The second year I tried to find someone to replace her, and it didn’t work.  This past year I’ve finally realized I’m not going to find someone else because Mckenzie is the one that I want.”  Sawyer shrugged.  “I should have never let her leave, and I’m just going to have to find some way to
convince her of that.”

“And what are you going to do if she tells you she doesn’t want to see you?”

“I don’t know.”  Jason had just brought to life Sawyer’s biggest fear, and the possibility that he and Mckenzie were truly over wasn’t something he wanted to contemplate.  “I really just don’t know.”

Jason shook his head as he sank onto Sawyer’s spare office chair, the legs flexing slightly beneath his weight.  “You know, Sawyer, for a smart, good looking guy, when you fuck something up, you do it royally.”

Jason’s grasp of the obvious typically equaled his quickness on the uptake.

“Look, let’s not talk about Mckenzie.  Do you think you can help me fix this?”  Sawyer shifted his laptop to allow Jason a better view of the screen.  Sawyer had enough of feeling slightly crazy, and besides, this book wasn’t going to write itself. 

“You still trying to get Jazz hooked up with Jasmine?” Jason asked, skimming the scene.  Jason was the only person Sawyer knew who could read and talk at the same time.

As they talked, Sawyer’s concentration ebbed as Mckenzie popped into his thoughts.  He was fairly confident he had made the right decision letting her go the other night, but that confidence was hard to hold onto when he thought of the mistakes of the past.  But dwelling on them wasn’t going to improve things, either, he reminded himself.

“So did you get that?” Jason asked, interrupting Sawyer’s mental musings.

“Yeah, I did.”  Sawyer refocused his attention, grateful some of Jason’s words had sunk in.  “How about instead of Jazz meeting the Pickle King at the bottom of the sea, they have to battle Poseidon for the right to visit his lair?” 

As he continued to explain his latest inspiration, he forced Mckenzie from his thoughts.  She’d talk to him when she was ready, and after she let him kiss her, he at least knew she wasn’t as immuned to him as she’d been trying to pretend. 

Keeping that thought close to his heart, he tapped
at the computer keys. 

Well, here she was, although why she was here she wasn’t entirely certain.  If this was one of Sawyer’s books, her current frame of mind would be described as wayward, or chaotic, although truthfully she felt – wanting to barf – would be a better description.  Or – ready to bolt – could be another.

She’d been meaning to call Sawyer for the past few days, but like some good intentions she had never gotten past the planning stage.  Every time she thought about calling him, a whole slew of emotions that she’d just rather pretend didn’t exist came knocking on the door.  She wanted to pack them up like she did her old clothes, and shove them in a box to be
donated later.  Surely if someone could find uses for her old torn up jeans, then why couldn’t someone find uses for these crazy, stupid emotions that kept tapping her on the shoulder, bugging her to the point she couldn’t sleep, and generally just making a nuisance of themselves.  She did not need this in her life.  She liked simple and straightforward, not heart wrenching and uncertain. 

But she had promised Sawyer an answer
almost a week ago
, so in true Mckenzie fashion instead of taking the easy approach and picking up
the
phone, she had driven to his cabin.  Her emotions had continued to annoy her, arguing with her about what she should say, how she should say it, and whether or not she should give into her impulses to sleep with him again.  The later part of that statement was the one that gave her heart the most work out.  She couldn’t deny she wanted to sleep with him, but giving into that impulse after so long apart just seemed like the king of bad ideas.  The prince of bad ideas most likely had been her decision to drive out here in the first place. 

So now she sat in her car, heavy, gray clouds blocking the sun, wind stirring the leaves and other plant life, thinking her courage had probably abandoned her so she’d have to face him alone, and wondering why she had thought wearing a denim mini in this weather was a good idea.