Page 31 of Sweet Temptation (Men of Honor 2)
Even though my heart is still heavy with fear, my lips twitch as I bite back a smile. “A sandwich for breakfast, Sawyer?”
He gives me a sexy grin and shrugs, “Didn’t feel like making anything, and nothing beats a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
I hold out my hand. He covers the sandwich and looks taken aback. “Get your own sandwich, woman.”
I laugh, “I’m not gonna eat it.” I walk closer and grab the plate from him. “Trust me.”
Walking over to the stove I pull out my fryin’ pan, then start buttering each side of the bread. “Cupcake, what the hell are you doing? You heard me when I said it was peanut butter and jelly right?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes I heard you. Just be quiet and you’ll see.” After buttering each side of the bread, I sprinkle cinnamon and sugar on it then start to grill it. Sawyer drops his head in his hands, as if I just ruined his whole breakfast.
Whatever, he’ll see.
While the bread is grillin’ I go fill up Chuckie’s dish. When I bend over to scoop the food out of the big bag a loud, deep groan fills the air. I whip my head to the side to see Sawyer starin’ at my ass… And, oh boy, the fierce hungry look in his eyes starts a minor ache between my legs that I try desperately to ignore.
I clear my throat and narrow my eyes at him. His gaze finally pulls to mine and he gives me one of his panty droppin’ smiles, one that shows he ain’t the least bit embarrassed by getting busted staring at my behind.
I shake my head. “What?” he asks innocently.
“Don’t you ‘what’ me, Evans, you know what I’m shakin’ my head at.”
“You can’t expect me not to stare at that fine ass in those small shorts, Grace, that’s just goddamn impossible not to do. And those fucking socks… Jesus!”
“What’s wrong with my socks?” I ask, insulted.
“Baby, there isn’t a goddamn thing wrong with the socks, that’s the problem.”
“You have got to be kiddin’ me. I have a feelin’ it doesn’t take much to get you worked up, Evans.”
“Not when it comes to you, Cupcake.” I roll my eyes and move back to his sandwich.
It’s not that I don’t want to believe him, because I do… desperately. But I have a hard time when I’m still hearin’ Jenny’s moans in my head…
Ugh don’t think about that, Grace.
After the sandwich is done, I cut it in half and see the peanut butter and jelly perfectly melted together. Walking over, I put the plate in front of Sawyer, and when I turn to walk away he grabs my wrist. I look down and see him starin’ at me with a mix of emotions: regret, sincerity, concern…
“How did you sleep last night?”
I shrug, “No worse than I normally do.” Which was a lie. I slept way worse, only because I knew he was down the hall from me in bed; and I had wondered what he slept in- if anythin’.
Oh crap, I’m blushin’ now, I can feel it.
“How about you?” I ask, hoping to distract him from noticin’ my pink cheeks.
The only response I get is a grunt. “Is the spare bed uncomfortable?” Last thing I want is for him to be gettin’ no sleep when he’s already doing so much for me by bein’ here.
He grunts again, “The bed is fine, Cupcake,” he looks up and grins at me, “it would just be better if you were in it.”
I roll my eyes and pull my arm out of his grasp. “Be quiet and eat your breakfast of champions.” He chuckles.
I grab a banana then come sit across from him. I see him eye the sandwich, unsure, before he finally takes a bite.
His eyes widen and he groans loudly, “Oh fuck! Marry me.” I giggle, “See? I told ya.”
“That you did, Cupcake.”
Laughing, I take a triumphant bite of my banana.
His smile falters now and his expression becomes serious. “I want to take you to the shooting range today.”
I rear back in surprise. “Why?”
Okay that was a dumb question.
“You should learn how to shoot, Grace.”
“I don’t know, Sawyer. I hate guns, I hate any violence,” I reply quietly.
“This isn’t violence, Cupcake, it’s self-defense. Look I don’t plan on leaving your side until that fucker is back behind bars, but anything can happen, and I will feel a whole lot better knowing you can at least shoot a fucking gun if you need to. I also want to take you to the gym sometime soon, show you some self-defense moves.”
I let out a nervous breath, my nerves feelin’ beyond frayed. “All right,” I agree reluctantly, “I guess it ain’t a bad idea.”
“Good. After we eat we’ll get ready to go,” he replies with a satisfied nod.
“Okay. I also need to go by the diner at some point; I have to talk to Mac about my schedule. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk about it last night.”
He frowns, “You shouldn’t work right now.”
I rear back in shock. “Sawyer, I ain’t got no choice. I don’t have the money to not work.”
He shrugs, “Don’t worry about the money. I have more than enough to help out.”
I stare at him flabbergasted and my blood begins to boil. I stand up, “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that and go get ready.”
I stalk off to my room quickly, before I say somethin’ I regret.
Don’t worry about the money. I have more than enough to help out.
If that man thinks I’m going to be acceptin’ anything else from him he’s got another thing comin’.
Two hours later, Sawyer’s handin’ me big-ass safety glasses and ear protection that looks like headphones.
I look at them with uncertainty before putting them both on, then follow him into the gun range. We walk up to an open space that’s semi-private with a small wall on either side of us. I stare at the target that’s hanging in front of me. Suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder and jump.
