Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
“They did, yeah.” He brings his coffee to his lips. We’re standing close enough that I can see the freckles that dot his neck and cheeks. “I don’t wanna, like, get too far into the weeds here. But I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately. How I wish they were around so I could ask them the billion questions I have about being a parent.”
My heart clenches, my eyes burning all over again. “Parenting yourself while being a parent—it’s really freaking hard. I lean on my parents a lot—I’m lucky they’re still around—but now that we live far away, I can understand this a bit. Not to the extent you do, obviously. I really am sorry.”
“It sucks.” He lets out a breath, eyes meeting mine. “But Ella and I are muddling through.”
“I get the impression your brothers help some?”
“They do, yeah. When I let them.”
I sip my coffee. It’s perfect, hot and velvety, and just the right amount of bitter. “Do you not trust them?”
Sawyer looks down at his coffee. “It’s not that I don’t trust them. I don’t want to put them out, you know? I already feel bad not being able to help them out more. They’re always so busy, and the work we do, it’s draining. Feels wrong to ask them to babysit or whatever when they’ve been in the saddle or shoveling shit for twelve hours straight. Ella is not an easy kid either.”
“I get that. Hard not to feel like a burden when you’re a single parent. Last thing I want is to make other people pay for my choices. The mistakes I made in my relationships.”
“Exactly.” He blinks, eyes flicking to meet mine. “And I want my brothers to enjoy Ella. I don’t want them to feel like they have to watch her or do things with her if they don’t want to.”
“Before I got divorced, I used to think it’d be easier to do this parent thing alone. You don’t have to deal with someone else disappointing you, you know? And while some aspects have definitely gotten easier since I’ve been single …” I sigh. “Other parts, not so much. It truly takes a village to raise a kid, and I’ve had to rely on mine a lot.”
He frowns. “Who makes up your village?”
“My parents. My sisters. They don’t have kids yet, so Junie is definitely the apple of their eye. My ex is, eh, somewhat helpful, but he lives an hour away, so there’s that. Miss Lee, my nanny, has been wonderful. Oh! Mrs. Wallace helps out too. She loves teaching June how to bake. Vince, too, enjoys being with her. He’s teaching her all about being a ‘horsey doctor,’ as Junie calls it.”
Sawyer lets out a low whistle. “Damn, girl. You’ve lived here how long?”
I laugh. “You and Ella are welcome to be a part of our village if you’d like. Hell, judging by how well Ella and June get along, I’d say you are already part of it. I mean, here you are, already taking care of me.” I hold up my mug. “You’re going to have to let me return the favor.”
His expression flickers with emotion. “You don’t need to do anything.”
I’ve put two and two together. This poor guy thinks he needs to do everything on his own. He believes that he messed up by not being able to save his parents, so now he’s compensating by trying to save everyone else. All while feeling like a burden because he’s got a kid and can’t possibly be the safety net for his brothers that he thinks he should be.
I reach out and put my hand on his forearm. The fabric of his shirt is soft with age, and thin enough that I can feel the ripple of muscle beneath it. “But I want to. So let me.”
It’s when he looks down at my hand that I realize I’ve made a mistake. At the very least, I crossed a boundary and made him uncomfortable, because he’s quiet for a full beat, then another.
My pulse drums, face on fire. “Anyway,” I say, dropping my hand.
Sawyer immediately grabs it, fingers locking around my wrist. I meet his eyes, and the pressure between my legs becomes acute when I see the blue of his irises are burning with …
Hunger.
Fierce, vibrant hunger.
Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God. We can’t. We shouldn’t.
But I want to. So badly.
“So pretty, aren’t you? Inside”—his eyes move to my lips—“and out. You wanna help me, pretty girl?”
The nickname. It’s just as hot coming out of his mouth as I remember.
Swallowing, I nod. “I do, yeah.”
“Lemme kiss you.”
“Yes.” I keep nodding like an idiot, struggling to breathe. “I’d like that. Very much.”
He chuckles. “And here I thought I was the only one dying this whole time.”
“I’ve been dead since the second you waved to me in the parking lot.”