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I glanced up, and the intense expression on his face took me even further aback and the smile died on my lips. I had made a mistake. The sensation of icy cold pinpricks of shame cascaded down my body. His eyes bore into mine as if he was searching for the answer to world hunger or global peace. The vulnerability of knowing that he’d seen too much of me caused my stomach to tighten while my fingers tingled. I had to apologize. I had to fix this.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you without asking. Thank you. That was extremely thoughtful,” I gushed. My voice didn’t sound right even to my own ears. Immediately reaching for my chain, my trembling fingers ran their familiar pattern over the raised words. I broke away from our locked eyes and looked down at my chain that I had subconsciously freed from my dress. I felt so dumb for making things awkward because somewhere along the line, I had clearly misread a social cue. I should have known he didn’t want me. No one ever had.

“Sawyer.” His voice was hoarse. I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t know what was going on, but I couldn’t control my body, and I was going to cry and I didn’t know why. I never cried. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had.

“Look at me.” I took a deep breath and willed my body to obey, but it wouldn’t listen. His hand flexed at his side like he wanted to reach for me.

“Sawyer, you never have to ask or apologize for touching me.” His words surprised me and I found his eyes.

“Okay.”

I turned to walk toward the truck, because vulnerable conversations were torture for me. My flight response was pushing me to create distance, and before I knew it, I was running toward the truck. I heard his boots stalking behind me. I was such a freak. My throat burned as I suppressed my tears. Precisely as I reached the truck, his large, tanned hand slammed down, holding the door shut. I was now effectively caged between him and the truck. He wasn’t touching me, but his body was centimeters away from mine. My heart raced, but not because I didn’t like it. I was confused and wished Talia was here to wrap me in one of her warm hugs. If I were at home, I’d be buried in my comfy chair with several blankets to burrow in. I turned around, his left palm splayed by my face on the door. I stared at his chest, unwilling to meet his eyes.

“Sawyer.” His voice was deeper than normal.

The calloused index finger on his right hand hooked under my chin, tilting my head to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going to let you run. I care too much about you to not talk about what just happened.” My eyes searched his. He cared about me? Everything was muddled, and I knew he wasn’t going to drop this.

“I feel like such a freak.” His eyes tracked between mine.

“You are not a freak,” he proclaimed fiercely.

“I thought you didn’t want me touching you.” I bit my lip, and Soren emitted a strangled laugh.

“Sawyer. I’d be a fool to not want your beautiful body touching mine. It just surprised me. Try again?”

He stretched both arms out by his sides in invitation but didn’t move. His words surprised me, and I slowly reached around his waist because of our height difference. His warm, muscular arms wrapped around me. Tucking me in and holding me close. My body relaxed after a minute. I wouldn’t tell Talia this, but Soren Roberts was a world-class hugger. He bent slightly, rested his chin on my head, and I was completely surrounded by him. I could hear his heart thumping as I rested my cheek on his firm chest. Being cocooned in his embrace seemed like the safest place in the world.

“Pretty Girl?”

“Umm-hmm,” I hummed, reluctant to move a single muscle.

“I want to say something, but I want to make sure you really hear me.”

“Okay.”

“I want to touch you, but I’ve been waiting because I didn’t want to scare you. I don’t want to remind you-“ he paused and then continued “of someone that has hurt you.” His consideration of me was my undoing.

“You don’t scare me.” And it was true.

“I want you to know something, too. If you ever want to stop, or you don’t like how I touch you, it doesn’t matter what we’re doing, where we are, or how you think I’ll feel about it. You can always tell me no. Always.” His determined voice rumbled through his chest as he spoke.

I nodded against his chest, and I swore his lips ghosted the top of my head.

“You’re a really good hugger.” I blushed admitting that.

“I really like what I’m holding.” His voice sounded husky before he swallowed. We stood wrapped around each other for what felt like an eternity. At last, I loosened my arms and Soren opened the door for me, buckled me in, and we left, heading back to the ranch.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Soren

We dissected all our favorite moments from the concert and laughed about the older couple sitting a couple seats ahead of us, who were handsy all night. Seeing a seventy-something-year-old man get a butt grab was something I personally would like to unsee, but lucky for him I guess.

The evening was perfect. Sawyer let me hold her hand the whole way home, which reminded me that we needed to have a conversation about our intentions. I wanted to date Sawyer, a significant step—especially considering I hadn’t glanced at a woman in over eight years. I’d been head down, working my ass off, day in and day out. Maybe this was a conversation we could have now, after that hug in the parking lot.