23. Ava
CHAPTER 23
Ava
LIFESAVER
I hear the rapid beat of Sawyer’s heart as his chest rises and falls on a deep inhale.
Is he nervous? Why? I hope he knows I’d never judge him for what he says. I’d like to think that by now he trusts me the way I trust him.
Or maybe he’s still processing the jarring realization that he and I have very different visions of what happily ever after looks like.
To be honest, I have no idea how to approach that mismatch. Should I even approach it at all? Seems way too serious to be talking about stuff like custody and marriage on a first date.
Then again, this isn’t a typical first date with the typical guys I saw after my divorce. Really, I feel like Sawyer and I have been on several dates at this point. I’m glad we’re getting to know each other on a deeper level. Glad we’re talking about shit that’s real, even if it does hurt a little knowing there’s a good chance we won’t end up together.
Because even though I know, rationally, that Sawyer deserves someone who’s less jaded and more open than I am, I can’t help but feel that we’re good for each other.
At least, I feel good when we’re together. I feel light and free and happy. I feel like myself. Right now in particular, I feel warm, the heat of the fire at my feet paling in comparison to the heat of Sawyer’s body that seeps through my clothes and fills my skin with this starry, buzzy rush.
The guy really is a furnace.
I just don’t know what to do with the fact that he wants the wife and the white picket fence. I have no interest in any of that.
I am, however, very interested in hearing his story.
So I keep tracing designs across his chest as I wait for him to start talking.
At last, he presses a kiss to the crown of my head, looping an arm around my shoulders before gathering me against him. It’s his turn to trail his fingertips over my arm, the motion quiet, almost absent. It still makes my skin break out in goose bumps beneath the layers of my jacket and sweater.
“Lizzie and I also knew each other in high school. We were really good friends back then. She was there for me when my parents died?—”
“You were sixteen, right?”
“Yep.”
My heart plummets. “Sawyer. Wow. I’m so sorry. You were still a kid.”
“I was, yeah.” His swallow is audible. “Long story short, Lizzie and I always had this bond after that. The chemistry was never really there, but as we got older, I think we got bored and tried to convince ourselves that we could make our own chemistry. Hartsville is a small place. Neither of us had many options after we graduated. I was working on the ranch—everyone there was a dude back then—and she was trying to make it as a singer, so we started fooling around on and off. We never dated or anything. It was more of a friends-with-benefits situation.”
“And you kept waiting for it to turn into more.”
“Exactly. Neither of us could bring ourselves to commit, though. Then Lizzie got pregnant. We were both twenty-five, and for us … life wasn’t panning out how we’d hoped. So we thought, hey, maybe this is a sign from the universe that we should have this baby and be together. Start a whole new life as a family.”
My chest literally hurts when I think about what comes next. “I remember thinking that a baby would fix things.”
Sawyer scoffs. “We were stupid.”
“We were young and hopeful. Big difference.”
“Either way, it became apparent pretty damn quick that Lizzie and I weren’t meant to be together. Ella was well on her way by that point, so Liz and I decided we’d co-parent as friends. That’s been our arrangement ever since.”
“So y’all share custody, too.”
“Kind of.” He hesitates. “Her career started to take off not long after Ella was born. She’s actually touring with some pretty big names in country music right now. It was an opportunity I wouldn’t let her turn down.”
“Of course you didn’t,” I say, my own heart beginning to pound.
Sawyer is decent to a fault. Even when it leaves him holding the proverbial bag.
“So, yeah, I’ve been on my own with Ella for the past year,” he continues, reading my thoughts. “Even before then, I was always the primary parent. Lizzie … her home life growing up wasn’t the best. Her family’s still a mess. We decided it was best that Ella live with me. Which I love. I always wanted to be a dad. I just—yeah, wish I didn’t have to do it alone.” He sniffles.
I flatten my palm over Sawyer’s heart, the sting in my eyes almost too much to bear. “Oh, honey.”
“It’s fine.” He reaches up to wipe his eyes. “Ella really did change my life for the better.”
“You’re an incredible dad.”
“Thank you.” He curls my hair behind my ear. “But now I’m almost thirty and—wow, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud?—”
“This is gonna be juicy, isn’t it?” I ask with a smile.
He laughs, a rumble that sends sparks flying down my spine. “You really wanna know?”
“I really wanna know.”
His fingers go still on my cheek. “Ava, I don’t know if I’ve ever been in love.”
It’s all I can do not to gasp. “Really?”
“Really. I’m worried—sometimes I think I’m gonna die without knowing what that’s like, falling for someone so completely that it takes over your life. I’ve always believed that kind of love—the kind my parents had—is what makes life living. Now, the love I have for my daughter—that’s its own thing. Deep and wonderful and just, yeah, mind-blowing in its own way. But I still feel like something’s missing. I want to commit to someone.” He pauses. “I want someone to commit to me. None of that wishy-washy bullshit I’ve experienced in the past. I want the real deal—in sickness, health, all of it. I’m ready, Ava.”
My heart cramps. What a beautiful thought.
What beautiful insight he has into his heart of hearts.
But where the hell does this leave us? Sawyer wants commitment. I want freedom.
I don’t know what to say.
I wasn’t joking when I asked Sawyer why he hasn’t been swooped up yet by a beautiful woman with a thing for cute cowboys.
Really, why is Sawyer alone?
Sounds like it’s not for a lack of trying on local girls’ parts. Lizzie tried, and I’ve seen the way the other moms check him out at pickup and drop-off. He could definitely find someone if he just opened his eyes and tried.
Maybe that’s it. Sawyer doesn’t let himself try.
He doesn’t let himself do much of anything except be a good dad, a good brother.
Great first date.
“I know you’re ready,” I manage, tapping my finger on the center of his chest. “It’s what you deserve, Sawyer.”
“I also want Ella to grow up in the kind of house I did,” he continues. “My childhood was magic. I loved having all that space, all my brothers. My family gave me a real sense of belonging and connection. We all had our parts to play, you know? I’d love to give Ella some siblings.”
“Bet she’ll end up having plenty of cousins?”
“One can hope, yeah. I still worry about her being on her own. If something happens to me …”
Tears leak out of my eyes and onto Sawyer’s shirt. “I get that. I worry about Junie being on her own too. My sisters are my best friends. And it’s such a lifesaver having their help in dealing with my parents. I couldn’t imagine doing it alone.”
His thumb arcs over my arm. “But?”
“But bringing babies earthside is no small task. I don’t—” I suck in a breath, feeling hollowed out by confronting all these hard truths. “I lost so much of myself during that time trying to keep my baby and my marriage alive. It’s hard to think about going back there.”
He’s quiet for a long beat. I feel like this is the stage of the date where things kind of fall apart and we glumly agree to go our separate ways, disappointed that we’re not compatible.
Really, disappointed that the universe failed yet again to put us in the way of someone who lights us up.
Thing is, though, Sawyer does light me up. He gets it.
He gets me. And I think my gut, my center, my soul—whatever you want to call it—is actually coming around to that fact.
None of this makes any sense in the context of what we each consider happiness. For him, it’s a wife, kids, commitment. For me, it’s freedom and self-discovery.
Ultimately, though, don’t we both want our lives to be filled with love? Don’t we both want to love and be loved in return? I think we share the belief that love makes life worth living. There are different types of love, of course. Love for your kids. Love for your friends, your parents, your siblings.
Romantic love has a place too, though. A big one. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in finding it again. I think about the lessons I want to teach Junie about staying soft, open, allowing herself to be loved.
“I totally understand where you’re coming from,” Sawyer finally replies. He speaks slowly, and I can tell he’s being careful about his choice of words. “I obviously didn’t go through pregnancy and childbirth and recovery like you did. I bow down to women, truly, for what y’all go through. No one gives you nearly enough credit. Or support.” He curls his arm so he can twine our fingers. “And the loneliness you must’ve felt without your husband’s help—I can’t imagine.”
My throat swells. “Thanks for saying that. Makes me feel … not validated. But seen. Heard. No one really seems to care all that much about moms. Or parents in general.”
“Hard agree.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “Thank God we have each other.”
Thank. God.
If I wasn’t falling for Sawyer before, I definitely am now. Here we are, the two of us clinging to each other like life vests, and he’s still brave enough to wade into deeper waters.
He’s still brave enough to stay open and stay soft, when it’d be so much easier and safer to shut me down.
“Sounds like you were lonely too—that Lizzie couldn’t be there for you the way you needed her to be,” I manage. “I know your family is worried about you.”
He chuckles. “How do you know that?”
“Mollie said you’d had a rough road. I get that your brothers annoy the hell out of you?—”
“Honestly, that’s just Duke. And Ryder. And Cash when he’s being all growly and mean. Wyatt—well, he’s actually grown on me since he and Sally got together?—”
“But it’s obvious they care about you. Bet they try to help you out, too. And I bet you don’t let them, because you feel like you should be helping them.”
“Goddamn it, why you gotta—you just—you’re smart, aren’t you?”
I look up to see him grinning at me.
“I let Cash and Mollie help me out tonight,” he offers. “Baby steps. Loving my people is the one thing I’m really, really good at, and I literally feel like I’m coming out of my skin when I think I’m letting them down, or putting them out.”
“You’re not putting anyone out by being human, Sawyer.”
“My head knows that. My heart?” He sighs. “Needs some convincing.”
“Well, as long as you’re moving in the right direction.”
“What direction is that, though? ’Cause all of a sudden, I’m mighty confused. I thought I knew what I wanted …”
My heart drums inside my chest. “I did too.”
“You got me thinkin’, is all.” He blows out a breath.
I meet his eyes. “That’s never a bad thing.”
“No.”
“There is such a thing as too much thinking, though.” I tilt up my chin to nip at his jaw. “Perhaps we should give our heads a rest and let our bodies do the talking?”
His chest rumbles with laughter as, quick as lightning, he rolls on top of me, parting my legs with his knee.
Trailing his mouth up my neck, he says, “Long as we’re still talkin’, I’m fine with that.”
* * *
It’s late by the time we get dressed, put out the fire, and pack up the truck.
“I understand you gotta relieve Miss Lee.” Sawyer opens the passenger door for me and holds out his hand. “But I’m still bummed you can’t come over. Been too long since I had you in my bed.”
I tried to get Dan to take Junie even though it’s not his weekend so I could have the entire night to myself too. But no dice—Dan said he had to work.
Taking Sawyer’s hand, I climb inside the truck. “You had me on the hood of your car. And on the blanket. And then again?—”
“Not the same.” He reaches in to grab my thigh before closing the door. “Out here, I got creative with the setting. In the bed, I can get creative in other ways.”
“I’m listening.”
He grins. “Nah, baby, you gotta wait and see. Next time, my bed. Got it?”
“I like it when you get all bossy and possessive.”
His eyes flash. He suddenly leans in and presses a hard, quick kiss to my neck, like he can’t quite help himself. “I know you do.”
The sound of the engine is enormous in the quiet dark as we drive back to my place. Sawyer’s got his hand on my thigh again. My hand is in the hair at his nape, my fingers drawing lazy circles over his scalp and skin.
I feel … sated. Happy. A little—okay, a lot—bummed that this night is coming to an end, even though I’m exhausted and ready to sleep.
At the same time, my head’s all mixed up. I love living by myself. I also love the idea of inviting Sawyer inside and having him stay for the foreseeable future.
I want to do nothing tomorrow. I also want to go over to Sawyer’s house and shamelessly flirt with him while our girls have a playdate. Maybe stay for lunch and dinner too, which we could make together in his cute little kitchen.
I want my independence, but I also want to be known and seen and heard the way Sawyer knows me, sees me, hears me.
He pulls up to the carriage house and puts the truck in park. He doesn’t cut the ignition. He looks at me and I look back, my stomach dipping. He looks impossibly handsome in the green and red lights of the dashboard.
“This is going nowhere,” I say.
His eyes flick to my mouth. “Total dead end.”
“We’re complete opposites.”
“Sad, when you think about it.”
I give his hair a little pull. “Can I pick you up next time?”
He laughs, a deep, satisfied rumble that draws my nipples to hard points. “I thought y’all were coming over for a playdate tomorrow?”
“I’m still invited?”
“You and June are still invited, yes.” His gaze locks on mine. “Y’all like grilled cheese and tomato soup? My dad used to make it for us on cold days. Ella’s obsessed and asks to have it for lunch all the damn time. I’ll make extra sandwiches for them to take to school on Monday. I also bought bubbles and some new Play-Doh for the girls if the weather stays nice.”
I don’t know why his question has me biting my lip and looking away.
No, wait, I totally know why. It’s because he’s thinking ahead again. Already making plans, thinking about whose needs have to be met and when.
It’s work I’ve always done. Work Dan never appreciated and never did himself, even though I begged him to for years.
“I love your parents,” I blurt.
Sawyer’s brows pop up. “Uh. I do too?”
“They raised you right, Sawyer.” I move my hand to cup his cheek. “You just might be the best man I’ve met. Ever.”
“Because I make grilled cheese?”
I laugh and he laughs, and something like joy—pure, potent—zips through my veins.
“Because you make grilled cheese, yes.”
“The secret is to use lots of butter and pasteurized cheese product.”
“Psssh. None of that real cheese shit.”
“No ma’am, it just doesn’t get melty enough.”
I move my thumb over his stubble, stopping to linger on his dimple. “Your mom and dad would be so proud of you.”
He gets this look in his eyes—I can’t tell if he’s going to keep smiling or kiss me or start to cry.
“I think about them all the time,” he says quietly. “Now that I’m a dad, I wonder what my own dad would do if he were me. I wish he were here to ask for advice.”
I nod. “What advice do you think he’d give you?”
“I don’t know.” Sawyer shrugs, looking down at his lap. “He’d probably tell me to not be so hard on myself. I know he’d be sad to miss out on everything that’s happening. You know, the grandkids and the ranch and stuff. He’d tell me …” Sawyer looks up, his eyes filling. “He’d say I should enjoy the time I have more. ’Cause we never know how much we got left.”
“Aw, honey.” I pull him in for a hug. Run my hand over the broad expanse of his back. “Can I enjoy it with you?”
He laughs. “You’re the reason I’m enjoying anything at all right now. You and Ella and June.”
“Tomorrow, then.” I pull back and wipe away his tears with my thumbs. “We’ll enjoy the shit out of whatever weather we get.”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Okay. I like the sound of that.”
“I’ll bring?—”
“Just yourselves.”
I give him a look. “You know I’m not gonna show up empty-handed.”
“And you know I’m not gonna open anything you bring. I got beer, food, and every color of Play-Doh under the sun.”
“Ingredients for a solid Sunday.”
“No Sunday scaries in our house.”
I smile. “No. None at all.”