The Vincent Boys (The Vincent Boys #1)(32)



The doorbell rang and I sat there listening as Sawyer came inside and talked to my father. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I headed to the bathroom to clean myself up before I went downstairs to greet him and pretend like I was okay.

“Here, let me clean this up. You haven’t seen Sawyer in weeks. Go on ahead and go. I know you want to spend some time together.” This wasn’t my dad. He normally wanted us to stay right here under them or at least out on the front porch. Rarely did he encourage us to go off and spend time together. Apparently he was more worried about Beau than I’d thought. But then he had reasons to be worried about Beau. Maybe it was parents’ intuition.

Sawyer stood up with his plate and cup in hand, always the gentleman. Not only does he clean up his spot at the table, he also loads his used dishes in the sink. Samantha Vincent had trained her son well. Or at least that was what Mom always said.

“Thank you both for dinner. It was delicious.” Sawyer smiled at both my parents then turned to me and winked before taking his dishes to the dishwasher. He wasn’t as tall as Beau. I’d never really paid attention to that before. They had so many similarities in their appearance but then they were so different. Sawyer’s dark brown hair was long enough that it brushed his collar and curled along the ends. His lips weren’t as full as Beau’s but his shoulders were broader. They’d always joked that he had the stronger arm when it came to throwing a football but Beau had the stronger arm when it came to throwing a punch. I glanced down at Mom who was smiling the silly happy smile she gets when Sawyer’s around. The guilt in my chest grew. She would never smile over my being with Beau.

“Such a good boy,” she said.

I forced my hundredth smile of the night and nodded. Sawyer walked up beside me and took my hand.

“I’ll have her home by eleven, sir,” he said, looking at my dad.

“Oh don’t worry about the time. I know you two have a lot of catching up to do.”

Sawyer appeared as surprised as me. If I didn’t know better I’d think Dad was popping some of Mom’s anxiety pills.

The moment Sawyer closed the door to his shiny one-year-old Dodge truck he reached over and took my hand to pull me up beside him. There was no stick shift in the way in Sawyer’s truck.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he whispered before grabbing my face and kissing me softly on the mouth. It was just as nice as I’d remembered. Sweet and gentle and very comfortable. I reached up and threaded my fingers through his thick hair and tried out some of my new kissing moves on him to see if I could get the earth-shattering sensation Beau’s kisses always produced. Sawyer made a sound that reminded me of a growl and dropped his hands to my waist to pull me closer to him. But still, it just remained . . . nice.

Finally he pulled back, breathing hard, and rested his forehead on mine.

“That was . . . wow.” I smiled, wishing I could agree. “If I’d been forced to stay away from you another week I think I’d have lost it. I love my family but I was having serious Ashton withdrawals.” The guilt inside twisted cruelly. Tears stung my eyes and I laid my head on his chest. He was just so good.

“Ash, something is wrong. I could see it inside at the table. You looked so sad and your parents are acting differently.”

“Losing Grana was a shock. A hard blow to all of us. I think Dad might have slipped one or two of Mom’s anxiety meds because I’ll agree he’s acting odd. But I’m just dealing. I’m sorry I’m so depressing and you just got home.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “It’s okay. I understand.”

He backed out of the drive and headed toward his house. We were going down to the hole. I didn’t have to ask. It was secluded and safe. He’d probably call his dad and let him know we were back there. Just to make sure all of his bases were covered. Parking wasn’t something we would ever be caught doing. It would sully his reputation and we couldn’t have that. I could hear the mocking tone in my thoughts and I closed my eyes to silently scold myself. The bad girl might not go back in her cage without a fight this time.

The truck jostled us around as we made our way slowly over the unpaved path. There was no light out at the hole. The lights from the truck lit up the dirt road and different small animals scurried out of our way. Once we broke through the tree-covered path the moonlight shimmered on the water up ahead and Sawyer came to a stop. His hand reached up and shut off the engine before he tilted his head down to gaze at me.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Ash. Losing your Grana like that had to be awful. Are you mad at me for being away?” Not what I needed—Sawyer feeling guilty when he had absolutely no reason to. It made me feel like pond scum.

“Of course I’m not mad at you, Sawyer. I wish you could have returned to a happy, cheerful girlfriend. You don’t deserve this.”

He patted my knee and I studied his hand. It wasn’t as big as Beau’s or as tanned.

“It’s okay. I know the old Ash will show up again once you finish mourning.” He paused and I glanced up at him. A small frown line appeared on his forehead. Something was bothering him. I’d known him most of my life and I knew that look.

“A few of the ladies from church mentioned Beau holding your hand at the wake.” He let out a forced chuckle. “It bothered them and they thought I should know.”

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