Where There's Smoke: A Texas Heat Novel (6 page)

Unbelievable! Sawyer glared at the older woman. “I’ve read the entire Harry Potter series more than once, there’s this spell-”

“Witchcraft?” Mrs. Cornelia gasped.

“Oh yes,” Sawyer said innocently, “There are other books full of pagan orgies, virgin sacrifice, divination, I could go on and on.”

“Refrain!” Mrs. Cordelia hissed.

“Don’t even get me started on Fifty Shades, oh that reminds me, I have to get handcuffs, whips, a new vibrator and spank me leather for our new sex swing.”

Mrs. Cordelia’s face turned an odd shade of puce. “B-B-But you must ad-adhere to Proverbs chapter thirty-one,” she sputtered, “A virtuous wife, who can find? A quiet and mild spirit is prized above all.”

Sawyer shrugged her bare shoulder. “I prefer Song of Solomon so I can intoxicate my man with my breasts and burn in the heat of his love.”

“Blasphemy! The Bible says no such thing!”

“Look it up sister!” Sawyer said, “God wants you and your hubby to have orgasms, it’s a command or something.”

Mrs. Cornelia began to hyperventilate. Sawyer wacked her on the back. “Now, I’m pretty sure your husband would love a holy inspection of his dick, why don’t you go home, give him a hot meal, go to bed naked and give him a blow job. The head of your house wants head, he can thank me later.”

Mrs. Cornelia wheezed. Mrs. Penelope spun around. “Sister? Goodness me! Breathe, breathe.”

Rowan joined them. “Sister Cordelia are you all right?” he asked genuinely concerned.

Mrs. Cornelia pointed an accusing finger at Sawyer. “Corrupter of innocents!” she gasped.

“Oh Rowan wasn’t a virgin,” Sawyer said pleasantly, “I’m simply obeying the Apostle Paul’s command for married people not to deprive each other of sex, rest assured, your pastor is well satisfied ladies.”

Mrs. Penelope glowered down at Sawyer. “Come along, sister.” The old women shuffled away with a click and squeak of their pumps.

Sawyer called out, “Let’s do lunch! There’s this really cool book I can lend you called the Kama Sutra!”

Mrs. Cordelia looked over her shoulder, her face flushed crimson.

Rowan’s shoulders shook with mirth. “Sawyer, what did you say to her?”

“Come, I’ll show you when we get home.” And she did.

Chapter 10

Donavan McClain provided police protection for the volunteers who went to Austin’s skid row. The homeless, mentally ill, addicts, runaways and prostitutes who barely survived life on the streets. His wife, Harper, used her paramedic training to offer medical treatment to the uninsured and undocumented immigrants. Emerson Chambers fed the homeless. Rowan prayed with people and gave a service under a bridge. Many felt too unclean physically and otherwise to enter a house of worship. Sawyer leaned against an oak tree, watching him.

He wore a baseball cap over his distinctive red hair. He had on a dark tee shirt and jeans. He didn’t look like the powerful spiritual leader of a megachurch or a bestselling author of inspirational books. He could easily live off the interest of his family’s hotel empire but he used his money and influence to help others. Sawyer admired him so much, adored every delicious inch of him.

“Earth to Sawyer, come in Sawyer,” Harper said, “Girl, you got it bad huh?”

Sawyer sighed. Her thumb absently touched the vulnerable skin where her wedding ring belonged. None of the volunteers wore jewelry. Besides the obvious threat of theft, they didn’t want to offend. It seemed obscene to wear a ring worth enough to feed several starving families for a year. Sawyer and Harper linked arms. They walked on the cracked, uneven sidewalk.

“I love him so much I can barely see straight,” Sawyer confided. “I know the feeling,” Harper said wistfully.

“It scares me.”

“Why?”

“If I lost him-”

“You won’t,” Harper said. They crossed the street. Cars and trucks zoomed above on Interstate 35. “Rowan is crazy about you,” Harper said loyally.

“Thanks.”

Before they reached the first shacks of scrap metal and rags, Harper said, “You ready?”

“Yep.”

Donavan watched over them as Sawyer gave out books to homeless children. It broke her heart that some kids had such a harsh existence. Many couldn’t attend school without a permanent address, clean clothes or shoes. Even if they could, how could they learn if they were hungry and stressed? Sawyer also taught some of the parents to read and write and how to fill out job applications. She gave out the last of the books.

A little girl with dirt caked under her fingernails flipped through the pages of a Disney book. “Tank ooo,” she said.

Sawyer nearly lost it. She swallowed back tears and nodded to the child.

On the way home, Sawyer snuggled close to Rowan. He stroked her maple curls tenderly. “Cricket, what is it?”

“Don’t ever let me go,” she whispered. He held her tighter.

“Never, you’re the best part of me,” he said gruffly, “I love you girl, now and always.”

Deena and Felicity Camden arrived in Austin by week’s end. Rowan gave both women rib cracking hugs. People streamed around them outside the bustling airport terminal.

“How are my girls?” he asked them. A car waited, specially designed for Felicity’s wheelchair. Rowan had it made for her so that she could drive with her hands rather than her feet.

“All aboard!” she said as Rowan folded his big body in the passenger side. Deena sat in the back. She was on the phone, putting out fires at their various hotels.

“No Siegfried, I require gold leaf and pastels in the suite foyer-”

Rowan leaned back and regarded his sister with indulgent affection. “You look like roadkill.”

She laughed. “Jet lag.”

No, that’s not gonna fly. Rowan nudged her playfully. “You gonna tell me or do I need to tickle you to death?” That was no idle threat. Felicity weaved through terminal traffic and took the side roads to US 183.

“I was sort of married to Seth McClain.”

Rowan’s jaw dropped. “Navy Seals McClain?”

“Yep.”

“When the hell did that happen?”

“We were both chaperons at your senior prom.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

She told her brother briefly about their whirlwind romance. Rowan knew by the stubborn set of her jaw that she withheld details of their break up. As a pastor, he helped people struggling with their own demons and haunting memories.

He glanced at his mother in the back seat. “Yes, the Mediterranean mosaic needs expansion but that supplier is substandard, I want only the best.”

Rowan turned around. He studied his sister’s profile. Lord, she was a beauty. Her skin gleamed dark sweet chocolate in the sun. Her huge brown eyes dominated a face that reminded him of Cleopatra and the Queens of old. Her natural hair curled in swirling locks down to her mid back. He knew her. She didn’t just date Seth, she married the man, which could only mean one thing. His sister loved fiercely, swiftly and deeply.

“Did he hurt you?” Rowan asked. His body tense, ready to inflict damage on Seth if need be.

Stopped in traffic, Felicity looked her brother straight in the eye. “No, I hurt him.”

Rowan frowned. He wanted to question her further but the guarded look on her face didn’t invite further inquiry. Felicity didn’t have a mean bone in her body. On the flip side, Rowan knew how complex humans could be. In his line of work, he’d seen the light and dark side of the mind, heart and spirit. Nice people were capable of inflicting pain, whether they meant to or not. Rowan leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m on your side no matter what,” he said.

His sister’s eyes filled with tears. She blinked them back, nodded her thanks and watched the road ahead.

Church attendance suspiciously dwindled for the single women demographic. Rowan stopped receiving stalker mail and unwanted gifts. He had his new wife to thank for that. Sawyer enchanted him. He watched her now with unconcealed devotion as she greeted his congregation in the receiving line. She wore a yellow summer dress with a festive flower in her curly hair.

“You did good,” Caleb said. He arrived in town shortly after their mom and sister. He pat his brother on the back. “Ya know, if I was straight, I would find Sawyer’s clone and marry that girl.”

Rowan grinned. “She has that affect.” He was pleased to see his brother in church. As a gay man, Caleb had several bad faith experiences, including a church were the members surrounded him, doused him with ‘holy’ water and tried to beat the gay demons out of him. The only reason he ever stepped foot in a house of worship now a days was to hear his big brother speak.

Xander, Caleb’s partner of five years, remained in their villa in the Caribbean. “Xander is gutted he couldn’t make the wedding, he loved the pictures though.”

“Send him my love,” Rowan said, “He’ll meet Sawyer for Thanksgiving, you are coming right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, bro,” Caleb winked at him.

Rowan received blistering criticism for not cutting off his brother due to his so called sinful lifestyle. Many church leaders furiously debated Rowan’s close relationship with his brother who was not only gay but a recovering alcoholic to boot.

Rowan didn’t give a shit. Let ‘em talk. He loved his brother as God intended. After their last run in, Rowan was shocked to see Mrs. Cordelia Bainbridge hug Sawyer. Her face glowed. She squeezed Sawyer’s hand again before moving on. Rowan joined his wife on the church steps. Parishioners nodded, smiled and said greetings.

“Excellent sermon, pastor.”

“Thank you for another inspiring message.” And so forth.

Rowan shook hands, hugged strangers and exchanged pleasantries. When the last of his congregation left, Rowan and Sawyer held hands. They walked to their jeep.

“I’m so proud of you!’ Sawyer said. Her eyes glowed with admiration. Rowan flushed. Her praise meant everything.

When they climbed in and buckled up, Rowan frowned. He looked at her curiously. “Babe, what did Sister C say to you?”

Sawyer’s hazel eyes twinkled. She smirked at him in a way he found utterly adorable. “Have you noticed her husband has a spring in his step?”

Well come to think of it, Deacon Bainbridge had been peppy and spry lately. “Yes,” he said.

“So, she took my advice. After ten years of a sexless marriage, living like roommates really, Sister C and Brother B are humping like bunnies.”

Rowan threw back his head and laughed.

“Now all the Women of Virtue have come to me for sex advice. Marriages are being resurrected and back on track.”

Rowan knew if he loved her more it would borderline on worship. He started their jeep and cruised down Main Street. Trees swayed, birds chirped, deer roamed and the sun shined down.    Rowan felt happiness and joy explode in his chest where his heart used to be. Sawyer owned every beat just as surely as she owned him.

“So Doctor Ruth, what sex advice do you have for the Women of Virtue?”

Sawyer smiled demurely. “Never be predictable. Surprise your man.”

Rowan turned the corner on Garden Street passed The Book Nook, cozy Victorian cottages and bungalows nestled in the hills.

He grinned. “What surprise do you have for me?”

Sawyer leaned over in the seat. She gently bit his ear. Rowan felt a hot shiver down his spine. “Guess what?” she whispered.

Rowan swallowed hard. “What?”

“While you were giving your sermon today, as I stood in the receiving line and even now – I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Rowan swerved away from the curb. He slammed on the brakes in the middle of the road. Good thing no one was behind them. His green eyes burned dark and promised wicked things. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at her yellow dress below the waist.

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“Nope.” Sawyer held his heated gaze with one of her own.

“While I was preaching you-”

“Have nothing on beneath this dress.”

Rowan broke every speed law known to man to get his woman home. He slammed the jeep in park, grabbed her by the hand and rushed inside.

Rowan leaned her against the nearest wall. He hiked up her dress. His eyes flared with desire when he felt her bare skin. She really had nothing on! He ripped the dress apart. He held her hands over her head and thrust into her wet heat with deep, powerful strokes. Blinding pleasure pulsed through her body as he thrust over and over and over again. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Deeper Rowan!”

He held her ass and plunged in a relentless feverish rhythm. He gave it to her rough and tender. He held a ripe breast in his hands and feasted on the nipple, licking and sucking it hard until she screamed. Sensations shocked her body as the orgasm swept through her in a pounding rush of sweet oblivion. Rowan thrust deep and joined her over the edge. He growled against her throat as the pleasure gripped him. His head came up, “Oh God Cricket, did I hurt you?”

“No,” she said, stroking his hair. “I liked it…do it again.”

Rowan took her to his desk, cleared it with a sweep of his hand. He laid her back on the cool surface and went down on her. Sawyer’s hair spilled over the edge. Her legs draped his shoulders. His mouth devoured her in deep velvet strokes of his tongue. Sawyer came again, harder, faster, longer. Before she could draw her next breath, he had her on the floor, skin to skin, heart to heart, soul to soul. Sawyer shivered in the after math. She could hardly walk by the time he was through with her. Rowan held her in his muscular arms. Sawyer drifted off to sleep, “I love you,” she whispered.   

Chapter 11

Sawyer led the Mommy and Me reading group dressed in a cape, witch’s hat and green haired wig.

The toddlers clapped, squealed and howled at the imaginary moon. Sawyer loved their rolls of baby fat, sticky hands and perfect cherub faces. One of her little angels bit his own mother on the ankle.

“Donuts!” he declared, “Right now mama!”

Sawyer dropped to her knees and told him sternly, “Billy that was very naughty, what do you say to your mommy?”

“Donuts!”

“It’s easier if I just give him what he wants,” his mother said wearily.

“No ma’am,” Sawyer said firmly.

The last thing little Billy needed was another donut. The kid looked like a baby seal with a pot belly.