Deuce of Hearts Page 13

Garrison lets go of my hand and moves behind me. His fingers fidget with the knot in the blindfold and slowly, the material drops away from my eyes. I blink a few times to get used to the light and when I finally open them all the way, I see the motorcycle in the middle of Cuzzo’s garage. Unlike the last time I was here, it’s standing up on the kickstand, and shining as though the machine was just built. I look over at Garrison who’s grinning like a kid in a candy shop.

  “Wanna take a ride?” he asks, his eyebrow quirked.

  I bite my lip to refrain from answering inappropriately in front of his grandfather. Garrison shakes his head with a laugh and kisses me fast before walking over to the bike and taking a seat. He pushes one foot down on the throttle and it roars to life. Even though I’ve only ever rode a motorcycle one other time, just a few days ago with Garrison at that, my stomach flips at the idea of riding another one and even more because the bike I killed is back to life!

  “Sounds like a beauty,” Cuzzo yells, nodding toward the bike.

  Garrison holds his hand out and I run over to him. He scoots up on the seat, making room for me behind him. Cuzzo walks over, handing us both helmets. The old man helps me buckle my strap, reminding me of my own grandfather. I take his hand before he walks away and write ‘thank you’ in his palm, not just for the helmet but for everything he’s done for me. Cuzzo smiles and nods, and tears fill my eyes. I knew this trip would be emotional but I never expected this.

  Garrison looks over his shoulder and shouts, “Ready?”

  I wrap my arms around his torso and nod. Garrison revs the engine, and in seconds, we’re at the end of the driveway and onto the main road. Garrison drives fast but cautious, and I trust him, not just because he does this kind of thing for a living, but I genuinely feel that Garrison Cocuzzo would never hurt me. The man has my best interest in mind, just like he did this morning when I was intent on demanding that Dean Sawyer is my father.

  I understand that he doesn’t want me to get hurt but in my heart, I know the love story I made up for my mother and Dean is fact or at least close to it. The two must’ve met at the VFW after Christmas. My mother, always a lady, couldn’t deny the attraction between her and Dean Sawyer. Knowing their time was limited, much like Garrison and myself, she decided to trade in her v-card to Dean that night, knowing she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have the most passionate night of her life. Besides, she knew that one day, she and Dean would find each other again and complete their love story.

  Okay, I know that story might be a little far-fetched but in less than twenty-four hours, I’ll know the truth. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be sitting face to face with Dean Sawyer, my father, who will tell me the real love story between him and my mother. Then… then, I have to tell him the truth, that my mother is gone and that he’ll never get his happily ever after. I have to let him know that he missed out on a lifetime of happiness with my mother, and I’m the consolation prize.

  Will I be enough? What if it’s too painful for him to look at me? What could possibly be the best day of his life, will also be the worse day of it, too. Will a daughter be enough to replace the loss of the love of his life?

  CHAPTER 22

  Sawyer

  I can’t sleep, and it’s not Garrison’s snoring that’s keeping me awake. Running my fingers through his hair, I smile and the repeated pattern calms my nerves slightly. I’ve never seen anyone sleep as hard as Garrison does. His head hits the pillow, and the man is out but not without first holding me in some form or fashion as if I’m some kind of child’s lovey. I roll to my side, my back against Garrison’s chest, and although he’s still in a deep slumber, he pulls me tightly against him. I close my eyes and link our fingers together, trying to find sleep myself as we don’t even have to wake up for another couple hours.

  As my eyes get heavy and my brain starts to rest, a memory pops into my mind. I squeeze my eyes tighter, trying to collect it before it escapes because this is the first time I recall this recollection. I’m young, maybe three or four, and I’m sick, miserable. My head is on fire and all I’m doing is screaming at the top of my lungs because my body aches so much. My mother holds me in her arms, rocking me slowly and singing Papa Don’t Preach, but none of that calms me. I remember her opening the door to her nightstand and pulling out a pink sock monkey. She had been gone the weekend before and I had never seen that monkey until that moment. I reached out for it and held it close like Garrison is doing to me. Almost immediately, I fell asleep and from that point forward, I took that pink sock monkey with me everywhere.

  Bolting upright, I jump out of bed and run downstairs. Boxes are stacked all across the living room to be taken to Goodwill. Garrison said he’d do it for me so I didn’t have to cry over them again but now, I’m on the hunt, the search for that damn pink sock monkey. I’m a horrible friend, if only to a stuffed animal, because I’d forgotten all about here. Ms. Monkey saw me through so many ups and downs in my childhood, hell, even my awful teenage years. She’s held so many of my tears from upset tummies to bad boyfriends and so much more and now, I’ve just discarded her in the donate pile like some kind of heartless monster. Tears streaming down my cheeks, I search box after box, throwing the items inside it on the floor but no such luck, Ms. Monkey is nowhere to be found.

  “Whoa! What the hell is going on?” Garrison voice, still thick with sleep, interrupts my search.

  I collapse on the floor, holding a dish towel in each hand. Throwing my hands up in the air, I shrug, tears still running down my face. “I can’t find it.”

  Garrison walks across the room, dropping to his knees and taking the towels from me. “Can’t find what?”

  “My sock monkey,” I pout, and start to laugh as I finally hear the words out loud and realize how ridiculous I sound.

  Garrison nods, his face serious as he glances at all the disheveled boxes behind me. “Okay, what’s the sock monkey look like?”

  I shake my head, wiping my eyes. “Forget about it. I had a dream about it and felt bad about throwing it out but…” I look at the mess I created and shake my head. “I’m sorry, go back to bed, I’ll clean this up.”

  He shakes his head, kissing my forehead. Garrison stands up then starts to pick up the contents of the boxes on the floor and repack them. “I can’t sleep without you beside me. I’ll help you then we can start getting ready for St. Louis.”

  I pick up a pan and hold it against my chest. He can’t sleep without me? I sigh dreamily, wishing there was going to be a promise of more us. He moves around the room, his large hands scooping up the memories of my mother’s house and I’m afraid this may be the only memories he and I ever create.

  “Garrison,” I say softly.

  He looks up, quirking his eyebrow and giving me his full attention.

  “Wh… what happens between us when we both leave?” I ask timidly, afraid of his answer.

  His lips dip into a frown and I shake my hands, trying to stop him from talking. I already know the answer and I don’t want to hear him verbalize it. I want to go back to my la-la land where everything is rainbows and sprinkles, not the reality of how life really is.

  “I don’t know what will happen between us.”

  I shrug, turning my back to him and muttering, “Yeah, I know… whatever.” Tears burn in my eyes and clamp my teeth down on the inside of my cheek, trying to draw the tears into the pain. Focused on trying not to cry, I don’t hear Garrison cross the room nor even realize he’s close until his arms are wrapped around me as he stands behind me.

  “I can’t promise you anything, Sawyer, but I’d like to stay in touch,” he whispers in my ear, his breath hot on my skin.

  I nod, my body flipping switches on me again and all I can manage to mutter is a pathetic “okay.” Garrison spins me around to face him, his hands dropping to my hips. My body electrifies with his touch and I suck in my breath.

  “I don’t trust anyone in my life except Cuzzo… and you. I know I barely know you but my instinct tells me tha
t you’re going to be someone special to me. I don’t want to fuck up what’s going on between us, but I’m afraid to commit more than I’m able to. Our lives are complete opposites and total chaos but I’d like to see what we can do together.”

  I nod, a grin taking over my face as he speaks. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot, too.”

  Sliding my hands around his neck, Garrison pulls me closer as he lowers his head to mine. The moment our lips touch, I know that I don’t want to kiss any other man for the rest of my life.

  Garrison

  Miles have passed between Memphis and St. Louis, and neither of us have said a word. Sawyer’s kept a tight grip on my hand, squeezing it every now and then as she stares out the window. Ridiculous pop music has played the entire ride because that’s what Sawyer picked but I don’t think she could tell you the name of the song playing. Her mind is somewhere else, it’s not in this vehicle, it’s far away, thinking of her past and dreaming of her future. Meanwhile, I pray that this meeting doesn’t go bad and she gets the answers she’d been digging for.

  Aside from my stress of the situation ahead of us, I keep replaying the conversation we had before we made love this morning. I meant what I said; I don’t want to lose Sawyer. When this whole thing started, and my feelings began to grow for her, I thought I could limit them to these few weeks. I thought I’d be able to walk away from her with no issues but fuck, I was so wrong; maybe it’s the sleep that I’ve never had before, or the way we make love to one another, I don’t know. What I do know is that for the first time, I’m taking care of someone who does the same for me and I’m happy and that’s something I’ve for sure never felt before.

  The GPS on my phone speaks, telling me to take the next exit. Fifteen minutes later and we’re in the parking garage of the building where Dean Sawyer’s office is located. I turn off the engine and look over at Sawyer who seems to be in a trance, staring at the Gateway Arch in front of her. I squeeze her hand, giving it a slight pull in hopes that she’ll look in my direction, but she keeps her gaze straight ahead.

  “Babe?” I say, hoping to get her attention.

  “Did you know that the Arch is as tall as it is wide?” Sawyer asks, her eyes staying forward.

  “Okay…” I watch her closely.

  “And that it can sway up to eighteen inches on a windy day.”

  “Sawyer…”

  She doesn’t respond.

  “Sawyer,” I say again, reaching over and moving my hand under her chin, forcing her to look away from the giant piece of metal in front of her. “You ready for this?”

  She swallows and I’m reminded to when we went to visit the first man we thought was her father. I lean over, kissing her softly, hoping to distract her but she barely kisses me back.

  “Do you want me to go with you or you want to do this one yourself?”

  Sawyer blinks quickly, snapping out of it and nodding her head quickly. “Yes, of course, I want you there! You’ve been there for all the others, I need you in there, Garrison.”

  I bite back the urge to smile but I love it that she says she needs me. “Okay, well then, let’s do this.”

  Still moving slow, Sawyer takes her time unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car. I’m already out, holding her door open, and waiting for her in the humid air. Sawyer takes my hand as she steps out and she forces a smile to her lips. I laugh and kiss her cheek, then I reach in my back pocket and pull something out.

  “Was this what you were looking for?”

  Her eyes light up as she snatches the pink monkey from my hand. “Ms. Monkey!!!” She grasps it closely to her chest, hugging it like her long lost friend. “Where did you find it?”

  “By the pillows in your mother’s bed.”

  Sawyer looks at me, her surprise replaced with a look of melancholy. “When I left for college, I was too embarrassed to take Ms. Monkey with me so I left her behind with my mother. I told her to sleep with her if she missed me because I’d given Ms. Monkey lots of love and kisses.” Sawyer pauses, rubbing the monkey’s eyes on her cheeks. “I never knew my mother still kept her with her.”

  I smile and run a finger down her cheek. “I bet your mom gave that thing lots of love over the years and now, it’s all yours again.”

  Sawyer throws her arms around me, nodding as we hug. “I like that thought, I like it a lot.” She kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear, “Thank you for everything, Garrison, I lo— I appreciate all that you’ve done.”

  Quickly, she pulls away and heads toward the elevator. I stand there dumbfounded as I watch her walk away. Did Sawyer almost say she loves me and what if she did? Because I think I love her, too.

  CHAPTER 23

  Garrison

  This place is like something out of a movie. A large, round receptionist desk sits in the middle of the lobby, the woman behind it wears a headset, holding her finger up to us as we wait for her to finish her phone call. Sawyer’s grip on my hand makes both of us sweat but I don’t let go. I look over at her and smile, she’s wearing a light blue romper with flowers printed around it. The pastel color shows off her tan and long legs. Hanging around her neck is a simple diamond pendant that I saw her take out of her mother’s jewelry box this morning. I sure as hell hope this meeting ends well for her today.

  “Sorry for the wait. How may I help you?” the mousy brunette behind the desk asks, turning on the largest fake smile I’ve ever seen.

  “I have an appointment with Dean Sawyer. Garrison Cocuzzo.”

  She glances down at her computer and nods. “Yes, regarding your estate planning?”

  I shrug and nod, feeding into my lie. Suddenly, this seems like a bad idea. Sawyer and I should’ve discussed our plan of attack instead of walking in there blindly. Hopefully, he’s running behind, and we can step into the hallway to form a quick plan but no, luck is not on my side as the receptionist directs us down the hallway to Dean Sawyer’s office. We take a seat across from his desk and she tells us he’ll be in shortly then leaves us alone. I look over at Sawyer whose head is practically spinning as she inspects the office. She reaches out for a picture frame and looks at each person carefully. I start to ask her what we’re going to do when the door opens.

  Both of us immediately look behind us and see Dean Sawyer enter. The man looks nothing at all like the other two we’ve already interviewed. He’s tall, it must be where Sawyer gets her height. His hair is a dark brown with white framing his face, and peppered throughout his stumble on his chin. He has dark eyes that match Sawyer’s and I begin to finally feel good about this meeting.

  He wears a sharp suit that I know for a fact cost him no less than a thousand dollars, my father never left the house without wearing something identical. The only difference is that he doesn’t wear a tie, his dress shirt has the top button undone.

  Dean holds out his hand, smiling as his shakes my head. “Hello, Mr. Cocuzzo. Dean Sawyer, nice to meet you.” He glances down at his shirt before I can respond. “I hope you don’t mind the informality of no tie. I’m not due in court today so I like to take advantage of a dress down day when I can.”

  I nod, squeezing his hand firmly. “No problem with that, I completely understand.”

  He smiles and releases my hand, reaching over for Sawyer as he responds to me. “As a man that wears a uniform to work every day, I’m sure you know where I’m coming from.” He looks at Sawyer and smiles. “Dean Sawyer,” he repeats to her, introducing himself once again. Sawyer barely moves as she’s in a trance, taking him in from top to bottom.

  “This… this is my girlfriend, I hope you don’t mind that she came today,” I lie, unsure what to say and I’m not about to mention her name just yet.

  Dean shakes his head, moving around his desk. “Not at all.” He takes a seat and looks at Sawyer who is still holding the framed picture. “That’s my niece Pyper and her son Carter. They’re the closest I have to kids of my own.”

  I rest my hand on Sawyer’s thigh, squeezing softly to try to b
reak her trance. She takes a few seconds then sets the picture down and looks over at me, excitement growing in her eyes.

  “Mr. Cocuzzo, I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty to do some research on you so I knew what I would be dealing with. My research led me to find out that you’re the son of Gianni and Olivia Cocuzzo, owners of Cocuzzo Intel Research Firm, correct?”

  My cheeks heat up and I glance over at Sawyer, who is currently hanging with her jaw open. I nod and answer, “That would be them.”

  Dean’s smile gets bigger now that he’s confirmed who he’s working with. “Well, then, I can understand why an heir of a multi-billion dollar company would be interested in estate planning. That’s very smart on your part, Mr. Cocuzzo.”

  I close my eyes when he says the word billion and I hear Sawyer gasp. Opening one eye at a time, I look in her direction and shrug. “Did I forget to mention that?”

  “Um… yeah,” she mumbles, still in shock. “Kind of a big thing to forget to mention,” she says with a scoff.

  Sighing, I turn back to Dean who is now staring at Sawyer. I shift uncomfortably as I don’t like the way he’s leering at her chest. Sawyer is still looking at me so she doesn’t notice. I clear my throat, trying to get his attention off her before I lunge across his desk and force him to stop staring at her.

  Dean looks over at me, shaking his head. “I apologize,” he says to me.

  Sawyer looks at him then to me, confused at his apology.

  Dean leans in Sawyer’s direction. “I don’t think I caught your name, ma’am.”

  Sawyer swallows so hard I can see her throat bob up and down. I reach over and take her hand in mine. It’s the confidence she needs as she lifts her chin and throws back her shoulders. She takes a deep breath then bolding states, “I’m Sawyer Kingham.”

  In slow motion, I move my gaze to Dean, who sits behind his desk dumbfounded for a second until a smile spreads across his face. He stands up, walking in front of Sawyer and for lack of knowing what else to do, he clasps his hands together and holds them in front of his body.