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)
The man who chose to go to work over being here right now.
Because apparently no one on earth is immune to Sawyer’s charm, my daughter smiles and nods. “Can we sing ‘Happy Birthday’ in school?”
Ms. Sherman claps her hands. “As a matter of fact, it’s Nolan’s birthday today, so we’ll definitely be singing to him. You girls ready to come inside? Get your bags from your parents.”
“See?” Sawyer asks, handing his own daughter the tote bag she dropped. “You’re gonna love it here, June. Shine bright today.”
My heart flutters. At the same time, my eyes fill all over again. I’m glad I wore my sunglasses.
I hand Junie her bag and give her a quick hug. “Have a great time, okay?”
“Okay.”
Funny how quickly kids adapt. Next thing I know, the girls are taking Ms. Sherman’s outstretched hands and heading inside. My chest cramps as June climbs the steps and moves through the door.
Ms. Sherman glances at me over her shoulder. “She’s going to be just fine, Mom. You did great. See you at twelve thirty.”
I let the tears fall because I can’t hold them in anymore. “Thank you. Bye, girls!”
I watch until Junie disappears into the classroom. Trying my damnedest to hide my sniffles, I turn to Sawyer and manage a tight grin.
“Thanks for the assist.”
He looks at me steadily, intently, his forehead grooved. “Sometimes I think all these firsts are harder for us than they are for them. After dropping Ella off the day school started, I sat in my truck and cried until pickup. I looked so puffy that Ms. Sherman asked me if I’d had an allergic reaction to something.”
I’m laughing and I’m crying, and it feels … kinda good, actually. “Really?”
“You think I’d make that up?” His dimples appear when he smiles. “I’m a worrier. Always have been.”
“Hard not to be when you’re a parent.” I lift my shoulder to wipe away my tears. “But thanks for the commiseration. No one tells you about this stuff. How hard it is.”
He lifts a brow. “You okay?”
My heart takes a tumble. Wasn’t I just saying to myself how much I wished someone would check in on me? The universe must’ve been listening, because here he is—the guy who’s not only asking if I’m okay, but who also cares what my answer is.
Somehow I know Sawyer cares. Deeply.
“I’m okay.” The reply is automatic. I don’t know what else to say.
“You don’t seem okay.”
I chuckle. “What makes you think that?”
“You just dropped your sweet baby off at a new school in a new town for the first time. No one is okay after that.”
I’m hit by the urge to sob. Why does Sawyer have to get it?
Why does he have to make me feel seen and looked after and safe? It’s so, so nice, but also so, so scary. I could fall for a guy that makes me feel like this.
I could fall hard, and I could fall fast. Then what? I run the risk of being disappointed all over again, because that’s what men do—they let you down just when you need them the most.
I thought I was fine with falling in love. Marriage? Hell no. But love, when it’s good, can be wonderful. In my heart of hearts, I know it’s the wrong move to keep myself closed off to the possibility of finding it again. I want to teach Junie that being brave is worth it, and that letting love in is always the right choice.
But life makes that difficult sometimes. It’s easier to shut away the soft, vulnerable parts of you and focus on getting shit done, even though there’s a part of me that resents being a productivity machine. It sucks, but it’s simple. Straightforward.
Nothing about the way Sawyer makes me feel is simple or straightforward. He already has me tangled up in the best, most tantalizing way. Which is why I should get out of here. Go home.
But I can’t make my feet move. I don’t need to work, I need a hug. Or at the very least, a sympathetic ear to bend.
“Part of me is so ready for Junie to grow up,” I say. “I can’t wait for the tantrums to stop, and for her to, you know, wipe her own bottom every once in a while. But another part of me aches at the thought of her not being a baby anymore. Like, how in the world is she already going to school? She was born two weeks ago.”
Sawyer laughs, looking down to swipe his boot over the cracked pavement. “I know that feeling. They grow up too fast and not fast enough.”
“Did you enjoy the baby stage?”
He nods. “I did, yeah. But I think I enjoy this stage more.”
“I do too. I just”—I blink, tears spilling out of my eyes left and right—“she’s such a cool little person, and I miss her already, but I’m also glad to get a break, and …”