But I don’t know anything else about Sawyer. Before the rescue, he and I were complete strangers. There’s no history between us, nothing that could give any real justification to what I’m feeling towards him.
Maybe it is a little crush. I mean, the man is hot as hell. He went out of his way to rescue me from my own stupidity and get trapped in a snowstorm with me, brought me to a cabin withactual power, and he’s taking care of me better than any man ever has. Who wouldn’t have a crush on someone like that?
And he fixed a phone so I could call my sister to check in with her at the hospital. He made sure I could reach the outside world and let them know I’m safe, that I haven’t had this damn baby yet, and he’s the exact type of person I trust to have by my side if I actually go into labour.
He is, much to my dismay—or delight—the perfect man.
But he’s letting his past get in the way of what might be between us.
Which is exactly what you should be doing, I remind myself as I press a hand to my belly.
“What’re you thinking about?” Sawyer asks as he lowers himself to the armchair across from me, tall, strong limbs folding onto the small cushion. He should have the sofa, but alas, I’m spread across it.
Fire erupts across my face as I duck my head, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Nothing,” I murmur, clearing my throat.
I feel the weight of his stare on me. It’s heavy, but not uncomfortable. God knows I’ve dealt with uncomfortable stares before from men who mean less than this one. Creeps have gawked at me my whole life. Whether that be because my boobs are bigger than the average—extremely lucky—girls, being a labour and delivery nurse so I’m faced with the creatures some women reproduce with, or just being a female. But stares stopped bothering me a long time ago.
With Sawyer, though, there’s a weight to his look that makes it feel like he’s peeling something away, and I don’t know how to feel about it.
“You thinking about last night?” he asks, sounding neither proud nor curious. It’s like he’s stating a well-known fact.
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “No.” I make myself look away from him before he can see the lie so obvious on my face.
“Skye—”
“It’s okay.” I glance at him and try to smile, but it feels fake. “It was a one-time thing. And we had fun. It doesn’t need to be rehashed.”
“Skye.”
I grit my teeth. The way he says my name has my belly fluttering and pussy clenching. There’s a firmness to it that has my skin prickling and all of me on high alert. Not because it screams danger, but because it calls to a part of me that likes being bossed around a little.
There’s a reason it never really worked out with my ex.
“Look at me.” I really don’t want to. But out of the periphery of my vision, I watch him stand and take one step towards me. It brings us almost completely together, especially when he lowers himself to his knees.
“If I hurt you—” he starts, but I whip towards him with wide eyes.
“You didn’t,” I state, shaking my head. “The opposite, actually. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
His features shift into a frown. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Why do you think there’s anything wrong?” I ask lightly, folding my hands in front of me so I don’t fidget with them. Instead, I play with the hem of his flannel shirt, which smells too much like him. “Because there isn’t. Nothing wrong at all.”
From the corner of my eye, I watch him purse his lips, disappointment flaring in his eyes. But instead of calling me out on the blatant lie, he captures my chin between his fingers and forces me to look at him. The touch alone sends shivers coursing through my body, reminding me of last night.
It really shouldn’t have me wondering what else he can do. Not just with his fingers, but with other parts of his body.
Snap out of it. I should pull out of his hold, but I don’t.
Especially when he leans towards me. Because of how tall and massive this man is, he is face to face with me. His eyes search mine, though I know he can see the lie so clearly written across my face. I’m not even trying to hide it anymore.
Something is bothering me, and I don’t know what it is.
No, now I’m just lying to myself. Idoknow what it is, and it has everything to do with this hulking, gentle mountain man.
And he’s stripping everything away until I’m left bare.
“I want to hear it from your lips,” he says, thumb brushing my chin. “What’s wrong?”
