But when I open to my bookmarked page, the words blur. My mind keeps drifting between Sawyer's smile at the bank and Lance's cold eyes watching me through the coffee shop window.
Two very different men.
One makes me want to believe in second chances.
The other won't let me forget why I stopped believing in the first place.
Chapter 9
Alice
Nora'sbeeninheroffice all afternoon opening new accounts. Megan is in the drive-thru. Which means I'm alone at the teller line. I'm dumping my shred bucket in the back room when I hear the bell chime at the front door.
"Hello, how are you?" I call out automatically, heading back to my station.
Then I look up.
Sawyer. In civilian clothes—plain black t-shirt and jeans instead of his uniform. The t-shirt fits him in a way that makes me forget what I was doing. I've only ever seen him in uniform. The change makes him feel more... accessible. Real.
"I can get him if you're busy," Megan offers, poking her head out from the drive-thru.
"No." The word comes out faster than I intended. "I've got it. Thanks."
“Thank you, but I would’ve waited for Alice anyway,” he says, walking toward my counter.
My face goes warm. He would've waited. For me.
“So what brings you here out of uniform?” I ask, stepping on the metal part of my chair to boost myself up. Being short is both a blessing and a curse.
“I need a cashier’s check,” Sawyer says, leaning his arms on the wooden counter like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He’s tall enough to rest comfortably there while I can barely reach the surface to wipe it down.
“Okay, for how much?” I grab a withdrawal slip from my organized stack of forms.
“Two hundred dollars,” he says. “And honestly, if you want to just give me the paper, I’ll fill out all my account information for you.”
Most people stand there expecting me to fill out everything while they dictate information to me.
I turn the slip around and slide it toward him. He grabs a pen from our cup and fills everything out efficiently—account number, signature, date. The handwriting is neat, confident. He slides the paper back to me.
“So who are we making this out to?” I ask, typing his account number into our system.
“The Town of Pine Hollows,” Sawyer says, settling his arm back on the counter.
“And would you like anything in the memo line?” I wait for his response. “You don’t have to put anything, but I like to ask.”
“No, that’s fine.”
“Any big plans for your day off?” I assume that’s why he’s in civilian clothes as I process his transaction.
“Not really.” He shrugs. “Honestly, once I pay this bill, I’m probably just going home to study. I need all the help I can get.”
“Well, I know what usually helps me is flashcards,” I blurt out, clicking the print button. “Especially the neon-colored ones. For some reason, those help me stay focused. Or you could have someone call out questions and you answer them—it makes you really think about the material.”
"Are you offering to be my study buddy?" He asks with that grin I'm starting to recognize.
The confidence in this man is something else.And the way he's looking at me right now—like my answer actually matters to him.
“I mean, if it would help,” I say, jumping down from my chair to grab his check from the printer. “I don’t mind.”
