“Seriously, Ellie?” he called, already a dozen paces ahead before doubling back.
“I’m trying! It's not my fault you have eight inches on me!”
He flashed that cocky grin even while running. “I got more than eight inches you haven't discovered yet.”
“Oh my God. Did you seriously just—” I stumbled, caught between laughing and wanting to smack him. “Now is not the time for jokes!”
But I tripped over something—a root or a pipe or maybe just my own bad decisions, and before I could hit the ground, Sawyer was there. He scooped me up like I weighed nothing, one arm under my knees, the other cradling my back as he took off running again.
“You crazy, reckless, beautiful fucking girl,” he muttered, not even winded.
I busted out laughing. I couldn’t help it. It was half hysteria, half joy, all tangled up in the thrill of being in his arms as he ran. By the time we reached his truck, my heart was thundering. He yanked the passenger door open with one hand and practically threw me inside.
“Sorry!” he shouted as I landed on the seat with a bounce. He slammed the door, sprinted around the front of the truck, and dove into the driver’s side.
Behind us, the woman rounded the corner, fury in every step. “What the hell were you doing in my house?”
Sawyer didn’t wait to answer. The engine coughed once and roared to life. In a spray of gravel and tire smoke, we peeled out of the trailer park.
We were silent for a few seconds, both of us breathing hard, the truck rattling as it sped down the uneven road. I turned around and watched the woman disappear.
Sawyer let out this sharp, choked sound—somewhere between a breath and a laugh. And I cracked.
A laugh escaped me, then another, and I was gone, completely lost to it. I pressed my palm to my forehead and smiled.
“What the actual hell just happened?” I gasped.
“You—” he started, pointing at me, eyes wide. “You walked into that house like it was yours. Like, no hesitation.”
“The door was open!”
“That doesn’t mean break and enter, you lunatic!”
“Oh, please. You followed me.”
“I had to!”
I smacked his arm. “You did not!”
“You’re not going into some random person’s house alone. Bodyguard duties are part of the deal, remember? I’d think randomly walking into someone’s home qualifies for that need!”
I wiped at my eyes, grinning so hard, my cheeks hurt. “Okay, maybe I got a little carried away.”
He shook his head, laughing as he turned onto the main road. “A little?”
There was a long beat of silence as the laughter finally settled. The wind still whipped through the tiny crack in the window. My chest ached in that good, breathless way.
“Jesus,” he murmured. “We could’ve gotten arrested.”
I opened my mouth, but then came the lights. Red and blue lit up the back window like the damn Fourth of July.
Fuck.
TWENTY-FIVE
Sawyer
I groaned. “Cops.”
