Page 51 of For the Record
“McCoy?” Sawyer prodded, folding her arms and sighing. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing they had an audience, and said in a raised, clipped voice, “Back to work!”
“Sooo,” Coy said, dragging the word out. She took a deep breath, waiting for Sawyer to face her again before exhaling. “Funny thing about that. I thought I was texting you? But I wasn’t?”
“I don’t understand. You texted me once, and I replied.” Sawyer studied her, puzzlement clear in those lovely storm-cloud gray eyes. Her gaze traveled over Coy’s outfit, the same as Bree’s had, but this time Coy’s body lit on fire with the attention.
“Y-yeah.” Another oddly inappropriate chuckle escaped. Coy swallowed, lifting a hand to swipe the perspiration building across her forehead.
God, it’s like an inferno in here.
“I think Bree got a hold of your phone, pretending to be you. Um … something about meat pie?” Coy scratched her head, feeling sheepish. “You know I’m always hungry. So I came.”
“Bree!” Sawyer looked completely nonplussed over the situation.
Her daughter returned carrying a plate of food, winking at Coy as she handed it to her. “Oui, Maman?”
“Explain.”
Bree shrugged. “Coy’s message was up on your phone, and I saw it. She wasn’t up for partying and missed you, and since you miss her too but will never say, I figured why not speed this along?”
“I don’t …” Sawyer started before slamming her mouth shut. Her cheeks pinkened, and then it was her turn to breathe deeply. “Arrête de jouer à Cupidon, mon amour.Please.”
“I’ll stop playing cupid if you start letting people in,” Bree said, reaching up to kiss Sawyer’s cheek. “Je t'aime aussi, Maman.”
“Oh, no, don’t worry about that,” Coy said around a mouthful of savory meat pie. Sawyer and Bree both looked expectantly at her, so she swallowed before continuing. “I’ve been getting in there, trust me. Small increments, but I’ve been told I’m irresistible, so.” She beamed. “One day, I’ll have your mom falling at my feet.”
Bree laughed, and Sawyer’s eyebrow shot up. “Somehow I highly doubt that,” came her crisp reply. Taking Coy by the arm, she added, “Come with me. Bree, I’ll speak to you later.”
Coy followed Sawyer’s fast clip across the kitchen, noting several heads turning their way. So many curious gazes, all likely wondering what Sawyer was doing with her.
“So it appears you aren’t drunk,” Sawyer stated, leading them into her office. She closed and locked the door. Coy’s eyebrows raised, but she said nothing, only tracked Sawyer’s fingers to where she pointed to the vacant chair across the desk from her own. “Sit down. If you’re eating, I’d rather not see it all over the floor.”
Coy did as instructed, but quickly said, “I don’t need to eat. I’d rather talk with you.”
“You can’t do both?” Sawyer went to her phone sitting on the desk, picking it up and unlocking it. Staring at it for a few seconds, she then muttered, “Unbelievable. You were fooled by this?” Sawyer held the device out for Coy to see, their previous text thread open.
Coy blushed. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”
“I guess so.” Sawyer set the phone down and came around to lean against her desk, her long legs inches from where Coy sat. “So tell me what pulled you away from the party. Besides your wish to see me, of course.”
Coy ducked her head, not having any desire to reveal the bet her and Sloane made. She focused on her food, which was quickly cooling, and took another three bites before Sawyergently gripped her plate and set it on the desk. And then she did the most surprising thing of all. She took Coy’s hands in hers, tugged Coy out of the chair, and gave her a hug.
Chapter 26
Sawyer
“What’s wrong?” Sawyer asked,wrapping her arms around McCoy’s shoulders.Now I’m a hugger?But she couldn’t stop the sudden fierce need to protect McCoy.
“Sloane and her stupid bets,” McCoy muttered, her expression dour. She wouldn’t meet Sawyer’s eyes. “She thinks … er, never mind.”
Over the last month, Sawyer had become well-versed in the stories of bets McCoy and her twin would often make. It was childish and often outrageous as they mostly revolved around McCoy and her … private life. Sawyer stroked McCoy’s hair, not hating how her head felt nestled into her shoulder. It’d been a week since they’d been in each other’s bubble. Sawyer found herself longing for McCoy throughout her workday. Checking her phone more than she ever had before. Taking longer to get ready in the morning and touching up her makeup mid-shifteven though she seldom saw McCoy unless it was an arranged late-night video call. Yet here she was now, so close that Sawyer could hear McCoy’s subtle intakes of breath as if she was inhaling Sawyer’s scent and committing it to memory.
“Sloane thinks that I’ll get bored of this, of you. She bet that I couldn’t stay with one person, and then …” McCoy’s shoulders tensed. Sawyer smoothed her hands over the tightly wound muscles, thinking of Sloane’s suspicions as well now.
“And then what?” She couldn’t help but ask when McCoy didn’t continue. She’d be remiss if she didn’t consider McCoy cheating on her a possibility. After all, it’s what Olivier did most of their marriage. Perhaps it was one of the reasons she was so reluctant to take things further. The age-old apprehension that once McCoy got what she wanted from Sawyer, she’d stray, and then Sawyer would have no choice but to cut her loose. Gone were the days she remained silent in the background, watching it happen.
“She invited a lot of my old hookups to the party, hoping, I guess, that I’d be interested. What’s worse is that … there’s a pool going, Sawyer.” McCoy looked up at her then, and Sawyer’s breath hitched at the tortured expression in her gaze.
“A betting pool?” Sawyer’s mood darkened as she thought of McCoy’s sister always placing bets. Yet she was always winning them, too. McCoy had laughed once that Sloane won five bets to every one of McCoy’s wins. Would she win this too? Was Sawyer wasting her time? Surely Sloane didn’t know McCoy more than McCoy knew herself.