Hardheaded Hubby, page 6
Sawyer chuckled as he turned and jogged back to his truck. By the time he’d gotten the bags, his mother had disappeared into the house. She already had Alexander out of his carrier and bouncing on her knees when Sawyer walked in.
“You know, I don’t mind turning the guest room into a nursery. That way, when Alex stays over, you wouldn’t have to pack so much stuff.”
Sawyer eyed his mother as he dropped the bags by the coffee table. “Seems like a lot of work for the occasional visit.”
“Pfft. Who said anything about occasional?” She squealed at the baby to get him to laugh.
“You’re not stealing my baby, Mom.” He sat down next to her, ready to take the baby and run. He knew she was just playing, but his instinct to protect his baby would always be there no matter who was holding him.
“I don’t mean permanently,” she said in a baby voice, answering Sawyer, but talking to Alex. Then she looked at Sawyer from the corner of her eyes. “Just that maybe we could turn the sleepovers into a weekly thing.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Actually he already knew the answer, and that was a hell no. He and Sophie didn’t have a baby to push him off onto other people. He loved every minute of being father and spending time with his child.
“Sawyer Dale Marks, I know that look.”
“Mom,” he sighed. “I think— ”
“That’s your problem, son. You think too much. Not everything has to be analyzed to the bone. One day, that overworked brain could get you into to trouble.”
“No kidding,” he breathed as he stood. Putting too much thought into his physical relationship with his wife following the birth of their son was what put him on the couch-for-bastard-dogs last night. He shook his head, trying to knock that thought out of his head as reached for a diaper from the bag. “I’m going to change him before I leave.”
“Sawyer,” his mother said sharply, and he instinctively snapped his head up to look at her. “Is something going on with Sophie?” Her tone clearly indicated she meant something of the serious kind. Then she blanched. “Oh my stars, am I babysitting because you two are— ” She glanced down at the baby before looking at him again. “F-i-g-h-t-i-n-g?” she whispered, spelling the word out.
Though she was right, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Mom, you could read the gory news to him in a happy voice, and he’d laugh. It’s not what you say at this stage, but how you say it.”
“Please tell me you haven’t done that.” She gasped. “That’s probably how serial killers were read to. Death isn’t a laughing matter.”
“Alexander isn’t going to be a serial killer.” For kicks, he looked at Alex and said in a silly baby voice, “He’s going to be a bank robber, so his parents can buy an island one day.”
The baby giggled and clapped.
His mother scowled. “Not funny.”
“What’s not funny?” his dad asked as he walked into the room. “Well, hello, little Alexander.” He shuffled over and took him from Sawyer’s mother quickly, using the element of a surprise attack to keep from having to wrestle the baby away from a baby-hoarding gam-gam.
“Dale. Don’t you walk off with him.” Then she looked at Sawyer. “I think babysitting tonight is a ruse because Sawyer and Sophie are,” she hesitated, looking at Alex and then at her husband. “F-i-g-h-t-i-n-g,” she said in a singsong tone and then giggled for added security.
“Have you lost your mind, woman?” his dad asked with a straight face. “Fighting isn’t a laughing matter.”
She sputtered to defend herself, but all Sawyer could do was laugh out loud. His dad cracked a smile at him as he bounced the baby in his arms. Really, Alexander didn’t have to be bounced, but it seemed the go-to action when anybody else held him other than him or Sophie.
“So what’s this about you two fighting?” His mom gasped and pursed her lips, but otherwise didn’t say anything to correct her husband’s use of the new F-bomb.
“We’re not. Not really.” Why was it suddenly hot in this room? He pulled at his collar. “It’s a misunderstanding. One I fully intend to clear up tonight. We’re going out with friends and having some much needed fun.”
“Game starts at six tonight,” his dad said then looked at Sawyer’s mom. “Make sure we set the DVR. It’ll be on, but I want to record it in case little man here takes all my focus like I think he’s going to do.”
“Yeah, we’ll be there for the start of the game.” But as far as Sawyer was concerned, watching it wasn’t a priority tonight.
“Whatever the reason you’re fighting, just apologize for it, son. Doesn’t matter if it’s your fault. Women have a knack for skewing things. Easier to say you’re sorry and move on.”
“That is not true, Dale. Women don’t skew things.” She looked at Sawyer and stood. “But we do have a tender heart and take things very personally. Even a misunderstanding can hurt our feelings.”
“So apologize. Just like I said,” his dad said to him, raising one eyebrow. “But make it special. Show her you mean it.”
He nodded, knowing his dad was right about doing something special for her. He loved her very much, and if he had to grovel to get them past this, he would. Now all he had to do was think of a unique gesture to make his sincerity stand out.
Hmmm … or maybe a tried-and-true gesture that was sure to win him brownie points. An idea came to him, but he needed to swing by Cooper’s house and talk to him, first. Hopefully, Morgan wasn’t around to hear his idea for tonight. For it to work it would have to be a complete surprise.
“Gotta go,” he said and stepped over to his dad to clap him on the back. Then he peppered kisses on Alexander’s forehead. “Be a good baby for your grandparents. They’re getting old and senile, so no wild parties.”
His mom scoffed as she moved over to him. He let go of Alexander and hugged her. “Call me if anything happens. You have our numbers. And I mean anything.”
“Yeah, yeah. I raised you just fine, didn’t I?”
“Uh-huh,” he said, chuckling as he pulled away from her. “But call anyway.” He turned to leave.
“Fine. Just think about letting Alexander stay with us once a week. He’s six months old now. He’ll be fine.”
He turned at the door and faced them before walking out. “How about you get through one night first, and then we’ll talk.”
His mom smiled. “Deal.”
Yeah. It still wasn’t happening. But as he walked out the door, he heard his mom yell, “Sawyer Dale Marks, I know that look.”
He laughed without turning back around to engage her. Maybe when Alexander was older he’d consider a weekly visit. For now, he was still bonding with his son.
And tonight, he’d start bonding again with his wife.
Chapter Eight
How the hell had things ended up like this? Sophie sat at their regular table at the bar with Taylor and Brindle, dressed to kill and not in the mood for murder. The past week had been a yo-yo of emotions, a week of her own making, but one complicated by the actions of her infuriating husband. Funny, she’d started out feeling neglected and then mad because of his lack of any action. It was too ironic that he’d finally taken the initiative after months of her waiting for him, and he’d pissed her off anyway.
“Quit tugging at your skirt,” Brindle said. “It’s just scraps of material and you’ll rip it.”
Sophie glared at her cranky friend but let go of her skirt. It wasn’t the one she’d purchased for tonight, but when Brindle had picked her up to get ready at her place, she’d taken one look at the leather skirt Sophie had purchased and vetoed it. The next three hours had been a test of wills for Sophie. Brindle had curled, plucked, painted, and sprayed parts of her body even she didn’t like to acknowledge, which Brindle had promptly pointed out was part of the problem. She’d berated Sophie for neglecting her feminine side, telling her bluntly that, yeah, she’d been sweating her ass off at the gym—literally—and dieting on too many plants and not enough animals, but she was still a sensual woman, and she’d seemed to have forgotten that.
She had. Besides the past week being one of sensual torture, it had been a wakeup call for her. A much needed one. She’d been hiding in sweats and oversized T-shirts because she didn’t have the body she’d had before giving birth. What woman did? Women were beautiful in all shapes, and it had taken her this week to finally embrace hers. She’d still go to the gym and eat healthy because she had a baby she wanted to be around for, but her motivation would be different now. And if she kept losing weight, so be it. Either way, she was done with the oversized clothes.
Not that she’d dress like this on a regular basis. But she had to admit she looked damn good tonight.
Not that she knew what to do about Sawyer. But she was here and would go with the flow.
They’d barely talked since last night. Sawyer had dutifully slept on the couch. She’d missed him so much that she’d hardly slept, but she was too prideful to go pull him into bed with her. She had her moments of heated emotions, but she always cooled quickly. Great for the argument phase, bad for the interim between the fight and the makeup. That was nothing new for them, and thankfully, Sawyer loved her spirited behavior.
This morning Sawyer had taken Alexander to his parents’ house. He’d probably stayed a while and visited with them, but then he’d sent her a text, telling her he had some errands to run before coming back to the house. He hadn’t returned by the time she’d left with Brindle.
“Holy crap, look at you!” Taylor squealed when she walked up to the bar.
“Hey, what about me?” Brindle asked, waving her hand over her cropped top, skin-tight jeans, and cowboy boots. Her dressy ones. Not ones she wore on the ranch.
Taylor rolled her eyes. “It’s just another Saturday night for you, babe.”
“Bitch,” Brindle muttered through a smile. It was her way of saying thank you.
As Taylor sat, she looked around Brindle to the where the huge flat screen was. “Where’s Sawyer?”
“I rode with Brindle.”
“Uh-oh. What’s the look for?” She glanced between the two of them. “Did you kidnap her?”
“No,” Brindle said, exasperated. “I made sure she wasn’t going to back out. Good thing, too. You should’ve seen the skirt she picked out. Blah.”
Marcie walked up to the table, eyeing Sophie. “Wow, look at you, doll.” She whistled appreciatively, then asked, “Same drinks, or is this a special night?”
“Special night, Marce. We’re doing kisses.”
“Oh, no,” Sophie said through a laugh. “I haven’t done kisses since college.”
“That’s the point, love.” Brindle winked at her and then looked at Marcie. “If any chick at this table orders something other than the French Kiss, Sweet Red Kiss, or Strawberry Kiss, you default to the French. Got it? Nothing else. Not tonight.”
“You got it.” Marcie said with a crocked smile. “Looks like tonight I’m going to have to pull all the boys off you before your guys go all cavemen over their women.”
Brindle scoffed. “I’ll junk-punch any man who gets too close. Tonight is about cutting loose and having some girl fun.” Then she looked at Sophie and smirked. “Not as exciting as the girl fun you already had this week, but we’ll give it the ol’ college try.”
Sophie blushed but narrowed her eyes. “I could kill Hannah for blabbing.”
“TMI, ladies,” Marcie said, holding up her hand. “What’ll we start with?”
“We’ll take French and keep ’em coming.”
“I want mine without whipped cream,” Sophie said. She didn’t want the added, unnecessary calories, especially if she was going to down a bunch of these tonight, which by the look in Brindle’s eyes was proof enough that that was exactly what would be happening. When Brindle scowled at her, she said, “More room for liquor.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “Bring hers without the cream.”
“Day-um,” Reagan said in a low voice as she came up to the table. “I am way over dressed.” Oh Sophie had a shirt on, all right. Unlike Brindle’s barely-there top, Sophie’s came down past the waistband of her skirt. When Reagan’s shocked gaze slid to her, Sophie knew it wasn’t going to matter how long her shirt was.
Because it was sheer. Completely see-through.
It had been an internal struggle at the mall when she’d tried it on, partly because of the ratty, tan bra she’d had on. She’d tried on other shirts, but kept coming back to the sheer one. When she’d bought it, she’d made a beeline straight to Victoria’s Secret. The rush of adrenaline she’d experienced after buying the shirt was enough to get her through trying on some sexy push-up bras—the one she had was too small to wear in public—all the while telling herself she wouldn’t actually wear the shirt tonight, that she’d find another one that was more appropriate for her.
She hadn’t even tried looking for that shirt after she’d come across a gorgeous, pink bra that had shone through the shirt like a beacon calling in a bunch of randy sailors. She’d had a hard time finding a skirt to go with it, so she’d settled on a short, brown leather one, but Brindle’s frilly—and extremely short—skirt matched perfectly. It was stretchy, so she’d been able to get it over her rounded butt, but Sophie knew she was more exposed wearing it than Brindle had ever been.
Skylar walked in the bar and headed over. Sophie watched as his gaze scanned over Brindle and Taylor and witnessed his steps falter when he took her in.
“Wow,” he breathed. Sophie had to hand it to him. He’d perfected the art of gawking with his peripheral vision and was able to get the complete visual without getting caught staring at her chest. “You look nice.” Then he glanced at the other girls and smiled. “What’s the special occasion?” Then he looked at the bar and frowned. “Where are the guys? What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Reagan said. “We’re just celebrating how quickly Sophie is losing her pregnancy weight.”
Sophie’s jaw dropped. Why did she say that? It wasn’t as if they’d discussed a front of what tonight would represent—and she already didn’t like the fact that it had started because of her—the least the girls could do was come up with some generic excuse for slutting-it-up.
Skylar looked at her and smiled. “You look great. You looked great. You know you’re a beautiful woman, but on behalf of the men here tonight, I want to whole-heartedly thank you for your choice of attire.” He winked at her.
Reagan smacked his upper arm, and he smiled at her. “What? You’re the prettiest one here, baby. That dress is going to test my restraint.”
She twirled around, and by some miracle, the short thing didn’t fly up to show her ass. She did look gorgeous, though.
“Bryson will be here in about fifteen minutes. He had to stop by his office because a server went down. He’s not on call but was closer. As soon as the other guy gets there, he’ll head this way. You won’t be the only man here,” Taylor said.
“I’m starting to think I wouldn’t mind so much,” he said, eyeing Taylor who had on a low-cut, lacy top.
“Shoo,” Brindle said, flicking her hands away from the table. “I’d hate for you to be the first jerk who gets junk-punched tonight.”
The smile left his face suddenly. “We’ll make sure nobody hits on any of you.”
“Away with yourself, caveman,” Brindle said, this time shoving him just as Marcie walked up with their drinks.
“I have your kisses,” she said. “And I took the liberty of making one for you, Reagan, since you came in after I got their orders.”
“Awesome.”
“Kisses?” Skylar groaned. “You’re going to corrupt my girlfriend.”
“Dude, you have three seconds to get gone or junk-punching will commence,” Brindle said, glaring at him. “Last warning.”
He kissed Reagan hard before he finally walked away. Sophie could see right through the claim he was staking in front of the other male patrons. By the way Taylor rolled her eyes, Sophie hadn’t been the only one to notice the display of testosterone.
They all took their drinks greedily, Sophie more so than the others, while a dejected Skylar headed closer to the big-screen television. She’d have laughed at the way he pouted if she wasn’t busy gulping her beverage.
“Mmm, this is good,” Reagan said, leaving the straw in her mouth. “When are the others supposed to get here?”
Sophie wasn’t sure when Morgan was going to come. She’d tried texting her friend earlier, but she’d just commented that she wasn’t sure. Cooper was out and when he got back they’d head this way. She hadn’t talked to Hannah at all. She was about to tell Reagan this, but Taylor beat her.
“Any minute now. Hannah needed help with her eyelashes, so she conned Morgan into stopping by and helping her. Hannah said they’d be here in five.” She looked at her watch. “About five minutes ago.”
They all sipped their yummy cocktails and chatted about nothing serious. It was nice to forget about the stress that had bubbled up between her and Sawyer and finally relax a little, though she wondered where he was.
But then her heart dropped as a new realization set in.
Oh god, what if he didn’t come tonight? They’d barely talked since she’d made him sleep on the couch. What if he was still mad and didn’t want to face her. Was that the real reason why he took off so early to go to his parents’ house and hadn’t come home right away? And why hadn’t she thought about this until just now?
“Girl, you need to start smiling,” Morgan said, coming up beside her. Sophie looked over and saw Hannah walking next to Morgan. Morgan gripped Sophie’s shoulder and squeezed before taking the seat next to her. “It’s a night of fun memories.”
“Yeah.” But it wouldn’t be if Sawyer wasn’t there. It wasn’t that if he wasn’t there she wouldn’t get to flaunt herself in front of him and all her efforts would be lost. Hell, she’d started this night out not wanting to be there, doing this. But now, she just wanted her husband close, near, all girl fun aside.
