For a moment she just looks up at me, eyes soft and searching, and for the first time all night the noise in my head goes quiet.
“I’mwith you, Sawyer.”
Then she nods, small but sure, and something inside me eases—like a lock sliding into place.
I take her hand.
She lets me.
I lead her down the hall to my room—our room now—and hell if that doesn’t feel perfect.
“Oh, um, by the way.You know that I—I don’t have anything here,” she murmurs as we step inside, clearing her throat like she might be embarrassed.
So, I wait.Give her time to settle her thoughts, to tell me what she’s thinking.
“Kristie texted.Her place was broken into.I’ve been staying with her till I find my own place.”
“Which you just have,” I fill in because I can’t help it.
She grins.
“Yeah, but, um, so I didn’t have much with me, anyway.Nothing worth going through the trouble of getting just now.So, I’m thinking I’ll just go into town or find a Walmart or something for now.”
I nod, toeing off my boots.She needs stuff.I get it.
“We can go shopping tomorrow.”
“I have money—I’m not asking you to buy me anything,” she clarifies quickly, like she needs me to know.
I just watch her while she mimics me, kicking off her own boots and reaching for the buttons on her jeans.
“Just don’t want you to think I see you as some sort of six-foot-tall meal ticket,” she mumbles.
“I’m six-two,” I correct softly, peeling off my shirt.
Her eyes go wide, lips parting.I catch the way she’s looking at me—like she’s not sure whether to stare or touch—and it makes something deep in me want to crow.
I’m all ink and hard work, scars and muscle, built from years of soldiering and rebuilding this place with my own two hands.
Every mile, every wound, every night spent awake adds up to this moment with her.
“See something you like?”I tease, my voice low, and rough.
And really, I hope to fucking God she does—see something she likes, that is.
She purses her lips, arches a brow at me.Then it’s my turn to lose breath as she whips off her shirt and shimmies out of her jeans in one fluid motion.
“Goddamn,” I murmur, the word torn straight from my chest.
She’s round and soft, a goddess with curves that could make marble jealous.Her skin looks like satin, those tan lines a map my hands ache to trace.
“See somethingyoulike, cowboy?”she quips, eyes glinting.
“Yeah, Lil Bit,” I growl, stalking her across the room.“I see a whole lot I like.Come here.”
She bites her lip, giggling as she backs away, one hand behind her.
Then she tugs her bra straps down her arms, the fabric sliding slow as a whisper.
