Page 3

“Okay. Hold on. We’re a small department. I might be able to get you some help faster,” she said, steadily clicking away.

I glanced at my phone’s eleven percent battery. I needed to charge my phone. I would be the liaison between the office and law enforcement until Connor was found. I needed to keep in touch with the team, and I had to cancel plans with Talia again. We were going to celebrate the anniversary of her opening her therapy office two years ago. The celebration was a couple weeks delayed due to the chaos that I called my life. I rubbed my temple again and wished I had a hair tie to let my hair down and braid it. The weight of my hair tugging on the back of my head was going to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. This headache was relentless.

“My brother is headed your way. He’ll help you until a unit makes it. Hang in there for a few more minutes, and an officer is en route.” She spoke confidently.

“Okay. Thank you.”

I clicked off my phone and sat down on the top porch step. There was a chill in the air from an unexpected cold front in April. I needed a change of clothes. I texted Talia.

Sawyer:

I have a runaway situation. If this doesn’t get resolved in a couple hours, can you please bring me a change of clothes? I’m sorry, but I most likely won’t be able to make it tonight.

I saw three dots pop up immediately.

Talia:

Another runaway?! You have to be exhausted. Of course, I will. Where are you?

This is the second time I canceled on her this week for the same exact reason. I sent a pin showing my location.

Talia:

Got it! Anything else?

Talia is my best friend. My only friend.

Sawyer:

Hair tie. Tylenol. You can pick out the next two movies for movie night.

Talia:

Your debt can be paid in cheesecake. Cookie dough cheesecake. ILY.

The corner of my mouth tipped up in a smile.

Sawyer:

Deal. ILY.

Chapter

Two

Sawyer

I lifted my head in time to see one of the most intimidating men I had ever laid eyes on. His tall frame stalked toward me with a scowl on his face. The intensity of his eyes made the hair on the back of my neck stand up before I could even see the color of them. I realized at that moment I didn’t have my bag, therefore, my can of mace wasn’t within reach. Crap. Such a rookie social worker move.

I was better than this. I was a planner. I prepared. I played it safe. I read the menu online before I went to a restaurant. I meal prepped for the week. I meticulously laid out my outfit the day before, down to the jewelry that completed each look. Every piece of my life was organized right down to the minute detail. At least the parts I could control. I told myself to relax in an effort to calm my nerves as I took a fortifying breath and stood on the top step. The man was easily over six feet tall and had the muscled body of a man that either performed physical labor or regularly hit the gym. A long-sleeve, waffle-knit, forest-green shirt stretched snugly across his broad chest, and dark wash Wranglers hugged his thick, muscular thighs. Despite the tension in the air, I couldn’t deny that he resembled a cowboy in one of those pickup truck ads. Or was it a country boy? I wasn’t sure. His chestnut, dark-brown hair was too long in all the right places, and there was a five o’clock shadow across his taut cheeks and sharp jawline. What drew me in, though, were his eyes. I’d never seen anything quite like them. Their intensity was unnerving. He got about six feet away from me on the ground at the bottom of the steps and abruptly stopped. I could sense the irritation rolling off him in waves and I resisted the urge to make myself small.

His stormy eyes raked over me, as if I were a threat.

“What are you doing?” Chill bumps raced across my body at his words. I wanted to take a step back but my feet were glued to the step. His voice was low and husky, as if it hadn’t gotten much use today. Almost fierce, but still level. His jaw clenched, and my hands tingled. I knew the telltale signs that this was not headed in a good direction. I tapped my thumb against the pad of each finger, willing my body not to betray me. Until he spoke, I hadn’t realized that I had stopped breathing. I sucked in a shaky breath.

“Hi. Uh . . . I-I’m Sawyer. I’m a social worker for CPS. I was transporting a child, and he jumped from the car about two miles that way.” I hitched my trembling thumb over my shoulder. “I’m not familiar with this area. Your sister said you could help me. I tied a ribbon to the fence where he ran.” My voice sounded shaky with nerves.

There was something about his intense stare that made me unable to stop oversharing.