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)
Despite all that—maybe because of it—he is still the handsomest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“You invited them, didn’t you?” Sawyer asks.
I shrug. “Who am I to tell your family they can’t bring food over?”
“They all brought food at the same time?”
“Can you believe it? The nerve of them.” Grinning, I reach for the screen door. The wooden door behind it is open, letting in the mild evening air. Spring is definitely on its way.
“Hey.” Sawyer pulls me back for a second. “I’m still getting used to this shit.”
“ ‘This shit’ meaning letting people show up and take care of you?”
“Yes.”
“Good thing I’m persistent.”
His eyes flick to my mouth. “Good thing.”
“Are you feeling okay?” I keep my voice low.
I can already hear noise coming from inside the house. Wyatt is singing something. A pair of little-girl giggles sounds above a deep belly laugh. Duke, if I had to guess.
Sawyer pauses. He’s exhausted, but his eyes are still clear, bright with emotion. “I’m all right. Just glad—grateful—I had you at the hospital with me. I’d be feeling a hell of a lot worse if I was coming home alone.”
“Aw, honey. Who knew hand jobs could be so restorative?”
He laughs, wincing. “That was your idea.”
“It was, and you’re welcome.” I twist the knob. “Ready?”
“I’m ready, pretty girl.”
I open the door, and as we step inside we’re immediately greeted by the smell of something delicious cooking and a cacophony of familiar voices.
The door closes behind us with a familiar thwack.
Home. That’s what this feels like. The home I grew up in.
The home I’ve longed for—that sense of wholly belonging somewhere. Of being safe and seen and supported.
When I floated the idea of a welcome-home party for Sawyer, the response from the Rivers family was enthusiastic to say the least. I didn’t want it to be too big of a production—Sawyer is still in a good bit of pain, and we’re both absolutely wiped—but I did want to mark the occasion with a family gathering.
Just felt right. We have so, so many things to celebrate, and Sawyer’s accident hit home the fact that all of us being alive is foremost among them.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sheer panic I felt when I got the news that Sawyer had flipped his truck and was being taken to the hospital. I was putting Carter through her paces in the arena when Mrs. Wallace came running through the door, her face ashen as she told me to check my phone.
The EMT knew the Rivers boys, so Cash was the first to be contacted. Cash then called me. I was still in my riding clothes and hat when I walked into the hospital twenty minutes later.
Speaking of Sawyer’s oldest brother, he’s the first to poke his head into the front hallway.
His face splits into a smile. “He’s home, y’all!”
The sound of little feet running fills the house, and next thing I know Ella and Junie are bursting into the hallway. They’re wearing costumes—June is in a Spider-Man onesie, the mask pushed up on her head to reveal her sweet little smile, while Ella is in a sparkly mermaid dress complete with a tail—and they scream when they see us.
“Daddy! Hi, I’m a mermaid! Also I missed you!” Ella makes a beeline for Sawyer.
“You’re the prettiest mermaid I ever did see,” he replies, voice thick.
“We have to be gentle with Daddy, remember?” I say. “He has some boo-boos that still need to heal.”
“Speaking of boo-boos.” Sawyer lifts his head. “Junie, I brought you some cool Band-Aids the nurses at the hospital gave me.”
My chest twists.
June’s face lights up. “I like Band-Aids.”
“I know you do,” he replies with a smile.
Ella slows before gingerly wrapping her arms around his legs. “I’m gentle, Daddy. Are you feeling better?”
“I am, Elly Belly Boo.” Sawyer blinks, hard, clearing his throat while he pats Ella’s back. “I missed you too. So much.” He sniffles.
I can tell it’s killing him to not pick her up, so I do, hiking her onto my hip. “Wanna give Daddy a kiss?”
Sawyer offers her his cheek, tapping it with his finger. “Smooch right here.”
“Okay.” Ella lightly kisses his scruffy cheek. “I love you.”
He plants a kiss on her cheek. I take the opportunity to kiss her other cheek, making her squeal.
“We love you too,” I say.
Sawyer’s eyes catch on mine, the silent communication between us as loud and potent as if we were actually saying the words.
Thank you, Ava, he says.
And I reply, Stop thanking me for falling hopelessly in love, Sawyer. You and your baby made that too damn easy.
Mule ambles toward us, his tail thumping against our legs.
“Hey, Mule,” Sawyer says with a laugh. “Bet you missed me most, didn’t you, buddy?”
“I think he was legit depressed without you,” Cash says. “We could hardly get him to go outside.”