CHAPTER FIFTEEN SAWYER #4
When she turns back around to work on the moldings, I say, “For what it’s worth, I felt it too.”
She pauses, and as she’s bent over, I see the tension in the way her shoulders flex, the stiffness in her back when she stands all the way up.
And then her eyes connect with mine, and instead of their usual beautiful softness, they contain a worried edge. “We can’t talk about this, Sawyer. I have a boyfriend.”
“I know,” I say quickly. “And I wouldn’t ever want to be the person that gets in the way, especially since I’ve been cheated on. But... I don’t know, I didn’t want you overthinking anything.”
“Don’t you see?” she asks, turning around to face me.
“I’m already overthinking everything. Every time I talk to Peter, he tells me he loves me, and do you think I can muster up those three little words in response?
I can’t.” Her breath is erratic, her voice almost shrill.
I stand and walk toward her but still keep a good distance between us.
“And then you walk in”—she gestures to me—“graze my face, and I’m over here questioning my entire relationship with him.
So yeah, I’m thinking, I’m overthinking, and I just need to get these renovations done so I can stop worrying if my grandpa can keep his cabins or not.
I just need this all to be over, I need this to be—”
Before I can stop myself, I pull her into a hug and press her against my chest, holding her tightly.
“Shhh,” I say as my hand cups the back of her head.
“We’ll get the renovations done, okay? There isn’t much to do, and we’ll have a lot of help this weekend.
We got this. And that other stuff.” I lean back so I can look her in the eyes.
“Consider it a nonissue.” I’m tempted to reach up and push another stray hair behind her ear, but I refrain.
“I can’t just switch... that off,” she says. Her arms are wrapped around me, and she’s close enough that if I bend down, I could press my lips against hers. I could discover what she tastes like, how those perfectly plump lips feel drawn out in a long, intoxicating kiss.
“Should I talk about my sweaty balls some more—will that help?”
She laughs out loud and pushes me away, shaking her head. “No, that won’t help; it only makes you more charming.”
I scratch the side of my face. “Huh, if I only knew sweaty-ball talk is an attractive quality, maybe Annalisa wouldn’t have left me.”
“Annalisa left you because she’s clearly self-absorbed.
” Fallon goes back to work, the air lighter between us, the tension broken for the time being.
Instead of eating my muffin, I help her.
We made a diagram for each room, marking the moldings in code, so we know exactly where they go.
I’ve done my fair share of mixing up baseboards to know a diagram is necessary to make it a smooth process.
Fallon picks up a board and flashes me the number. I point to the wall to the right of the bathroom. “You know, when you say things like that, it makes me believe that we’re friends.”
She eyes me. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Wouldn’t dare,” I say just as Jaz walks in, Sully at her side carrying two boxes.
“We have an extra set of hands,” Jaz says as she sets a few boxes down.
I glance at Fallon and see apprehension written all over her face at having Sully here. Given how last night went, I’m not quite sure how he’s feeling today, which could add a large complication to our plans for the day.
“Sully, I thought you were going to go see Tank at Village Hardware?” Fallon says.
“Why would I do that when there’s work to be done around here?
” He sets down the boxes and places his hands on his hips.
His posture reeks of authority, but the uneasiness in his eyes shows just how vulnerable he’s feeling.
Once he takes a moment to observe the floors, he says, “I like the floors.” The comment nearly makes me laugh, since just yesterday he was bitching about how cheap he thought the floors looked.
“Thank you,” Fallon says and then looks between us. I can sense she’s strategizing a way to maneuver Sully out of here. “You know, Sully,” Fallon starts again, “I was thinking that maybe you could go—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Sully says, a gruffness to his voice.
“These are my cabins. I built them. I’m not an invalid, Fallon.
” He’s brusque, feisty... borderline angry.
Fallon shoots back, surprised at his tone, and I can see her struggling, not wanting him here because she doesn’t want him to get hurt, but not wanting him to insult her either.
So, I decide to step in—hopefully it won’t backfire on me.
“Sully, I actually have to install all of these lights, and I was hoping you could supervise me—you know, make sure I’m doing it to your standards.” Sully glances at me, and I see the confusion in his eyes, so I add, “You know, your old pal Phil could really use some help.”
Like flipping a switch, I see the snap of recognition, followed by a cocky rock back on his heels. “Can’t have you messing up these lights and causing an electrical fire. It’s best that I watch over you.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I really appreciate it. What, uh, what light should we start on?”
“Why don’t we start in the bathroom so the girls can finish up with these baseboards.”
“Great idea,” I say, and Sully smiles proudly. “Meet you in the bathroom. I have to grab my electrical toolbox from the shed.”
“Don’t dawdle, we have a lot to get done,” Sully says, picking up a light fixture and then bringing it into the bathroom.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, and I make my way out of the cabin. I head toward a shed where I put together an old toolbox for electrical needs only the other day. It was a practice I learned from Harmer a while back—always have an electrical toolbox handy—keeps things easy to find.
I’m halfway to the old, beaten-up shed when I hear footsteps jog up behind me. “Hey,” Fallon calls out.
I turn around and catch her jogging the rest of the way. When she reaches me, she takes me by surprise by immediately putting her arms around me and giving me a hug.
“Thank you,” she says when she pulls away. “I’m not sure if you realize how important you just made him feel. The way you phrased your request, making him feel valued. It was... it was perfect.”
“I, uh, I’ve been doing some reading on Alzheimer’s and remembered that the way you phrase things is really important. Sully’s clearly proud and, if anything, wants to preserve his dignity. I figured asking him to supervise would make him feel involved without being too involved.”
“You’ve been reading up on Alzheimer’s?” Fallon asks, a hint of admiration in her voice.
“Yeah. Figured it would be helpful since I’m staying here for a while. I didn’t want to do or say anything that would upset Sully or make your life more difficult.”
“Wow, Sawyer, I don’t know what to say.” Her eyes well up, her lip trembling. The last thing I want is for her to cry. I don’t ever want to see anguish in her expression—only joy.
“Please don’t cry,” I say. “I won’t be able to handle it.”
“I’m not going to cry.” She takes a deep breath and steadies herself as she puts some distance between us, one step at a time. It’s like she’s erected a giant sign in front of me, not a merging lane: Don’t even think about coming any closer.
“Okay.” We stare awkwardly at each other, and after a few seconds, I point behind me. “Well, I think I’ll go get that toolbox.”
“Sure.” But she doesn’t move. An odd look crosses her face, and I know something’s still on her mind.
“Is there something else?”
She shakes her head, twisting her hands in front of her.
When our eyes connect, I see that softness return, her appreciation for what I did.
Which seems so odd—I feel like I did nothing.
It wasn’t monumental, but maybe, in her world of confusion, it was.
“No. Just...” She wets her lips. “Thank you, Sawyer, for everything.”
I pull on the back of my neck, feeling incredibly uncomfortable.
Not from her praise, but from the inability to scoop her up like I want.
To take her in my arms and show her that she doesn’t have to walk this path as a caregiver all alone, that I could be here, helping her.
“You know, you keep thanking me, but I’m not too sure I deserve it.
” I meet her gaze now. “I should be the one thanking you.”
“Me? What have I done other than tease you, be short with you, and recruit you to help me?”
How little she knows.
“The teasing is in good nature, the shortness I chalk up to you being under a load of stress, and recruiting me... sorry to say, but I volunteered.” I wink, though the action doesn’t pull a smirk from her like I hoped.
“But all that aside, I don’t think you realize how much I needed this escape.
I wasn’t necessarily in the greatest frame of mind, and getting out of LA, coming to a town that’s so loyal and so real .
.. it’s been my saving grace. These projects, the conversations we’ve shared, they’ve meant something to me.
They’ve helped me move away from a dark time in my life.
So... no need to thank me when I owe just as much to you and this place. ”
Her eyes melt over me, and the desperation I feel to touch her again, to hold her.
.. consumes me. The feeling is so deep, so palpable, that it has me in a vise, tightening around my lungs, making it feel next to impossible to breathe.
The only solution, the only way to catch one tiny breath of air in this pressure chamber, is to touch her.
Feel her.
Hold her.
I know I said last night was it, that I wouldn’t do it again. That I would keep my distance.
But a surge of gratitude floods me.
If it wasn’t for Fallon and Jaz bringing me to the cabins the first night I was in Canoodle, I probably would have ended up somewhere else, a place that wouldn’t have helped me muddle through the mess I’ve made of my life.
She might not see it, but Canoodle has replenished me in a way I never expected.
And I need her to know that.
I need her to feel that.
Before I can stop myself, I close the distance between us once more and pull her into a hug.
Without hesitation, without waiting to see her reaction, I wrap my arms around her shoulders and hold her tight, letting my body relax into the embrace.
And because I somehow lucked out, she sinks into the hug as well, and her head rests against my chest as her arms squeeze me tight.
Warmth spreads through my veins, like the sun is being injected directly into them.
I can’t remember the last time I had human touch, and yet here I am two days in a row, privileged to feel Fallon tight in my embrace.
And the way her head rests against my chest, like.
.. like she belongs to me. It makes me feel powerful, like I actually matter.
Like there could be something so incredible between us.
We stand still, holding each other as time passes by. It feels like minutes as the sun continues to rise into the sky and a pair of squirrels fight in the trees above us. In reality, I know it’s only been seconds, but those seconds are precious. And I soak each one in. I don’t ever want to let go.
But unfortunately, she releases me.
She takes a step back, pulling far enough away to look me in the eyes. “Okay, so... I guess we have work to do.”
Work that I wish was just between us. Like last night, alone with her, talking.
“We do. Lots of work.”
She points her thumb toward the cabins. “So, see you back at the cabin.”
I rest my hands on my hips, nervous, unsure of how to act in this moment.
I wish she wasn’t dating someone.
I wish there was an opportunity for me to make a move on a girl I should have made a move on a while ago.
I wish I hadn’t been too engrossed with my own worries to recognize what was right in front of me.
A beautiful woman, with an even more beautiful heart that, as of this moment, has completely and irrevocably captivated me.
“See you at the cabin.”