Yesterday I hugged him—huggedhim—and I wasn’t mad about it. It felt safe. Warm. Like being held by someone who meant it. And the dancing the other night was…unexpected. A surprise sweetness I didn’t know I needed and all wrapped up as a man named Sawyer.
And now, I’m kneeling on the floor in my plant shop, breathing in his clean, warm scent, watching the curve of his jaw, the line of his cheekbone, the way his lashes darken his eyes when he looks up at me.
I know what he looks like. But this is different.
He lifts his gaze. We’re so close I could count his freckles if I wanted to. Something pulls between us, but then Owen’s voice crashes in like a reality check.
“Yo, Stock-ton!”
Sawyer looks up. “What?”
“Physical therapy,” Owen says.
Liam grins. “He means massages.”
Sawyer groans, but he still pushes to his feet, offering his hand to help me up. I take it, and he pulls me upright with an ease that feels entirely too familiar.
Behind him, the guys start heading out, still laughing, still carrying him along with them in theory if not in practice.
Sawyer lingers.
Then he glances back at me. “Hey—before I forget.” He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly a little less effortless. “I’m free tonight if you still want to grab Thai and go over the workshop?”
My brain stalls. Thai. Together. Outside the shop. Something that sounds innocent, but at this moment, I wonder if I can be trusted all alone with him. I freeze just long enough for him to notice, maybe searching for an excuse or just a hole to climb into.
“I can pick you up,” he adds quickly. “Six. Tonight. After you close.”
“Yeah, that sounds good to me,” I finally manage to say, nodding my head in agreement.
Sawyer’s smile is easy when he looks back at me. “Good. Six it is,” he says again, like the decision has already rooted.
I watch as he walks away from me, my pulse still not quite steady. I press my lips together, like I can contain whatever that was…or whatever this is.
I question my choice to say yes, but the doubt doesn’t stick. Not when the shop suddenly feels too big. Too quiet. Like it’s missing something it didn’t even know it needed.
It’s in the space he leaves behind that something inside me shifts—not toward fear or caution, but tilting toward him.
Huh.
Six o’clock suddenly feels like a lifetime away.
CHAPTER 13
SAWYER
Ipull up outside Leaf & Letter right at six on the dot and cut the engine. The windows glow, light spilling out onto the sidewalk, plants silhouetted against the glass as if they were on guard.
Then the door opens and Juliette steps out, keys in hand, locking up for the night, and my brain immediately forgets what it was doing a second ago. She looks beautiful. It’s something I appreciate about her: that she’s just herself. Juliette isn’t the kind of woman who tries too hard, she’s got no time for that. Instead, she shows up how she is now. Relaxed. Confident. Soft around the edges in a way that makes me straighten in my seat without meaning to.
I get out of the car and walk around to the passenger side, reaching for the door just as she turns toward me.
She stops short. “What are you doing?”
I blink. “Opening the door.”
She squints at me like she’s deciding whether to call me out. “This is a business meeting. We’re talking about work.”
“I know,” I say, smiling as I pull the handle anyway. “But to be fair, my mom did raise me to be a gentleman.”
