Drift

Chapter 25

Only bluebird days on the horizon

My eyelids flutter open.

Muted tones of silver wash over the bedroom. It’s early. Too early even for the birds. I wriggle to get comfortable, but a hard, warm lump has replaced my pillow. My fingertips skim over the top of…muscles…and…a fuzz of chest hair.

I fly up.

“Mornin’.”

I prop myself up on one elbow, my lower half still tangled between Sawyer’s hairy legs. Calloused fingers stroke lazily down my spine. His eyes are heavy, and his voice is still throaty from sleep. He hasn’t been awake for long.

“Morning.” I spot a glisten of my drool on his chest, grin sheepishly, and quickly wipe it away.

“Aw, don’t do that. I like that on me.” He shimmies over the sheets to get closer, and his beard is fuzzy against my skin when he arches up to brush a kiss over my throat. “I’m lookin’ at you,” he murmurs, “and I still don’t believe I’m here.”

“You’re here…and hopefully you won’t be running away again anytime soon.”

He shakes his head. “Never.” A possessive hand gives my backside a sleepy squeeze. “How are you feelin’ this mornin’? Sore?”

Heat curls up my neck to my cheeks. “A little tender.”

“I should’ve let you get more sleep. I got a bit carried away after the first time.” He kisses my elbow and drops back onto the pillow. “How do you feel about me this mornin’?”

“The same as last night.” I toy with the hair on his chest. “Maybe I love you a little more.”

“I treated you good, huh?”

“You always did.”

He smiles softly at that, his fingers combing through the dark hair spilling over my bare shoulder. He looks…happy. The way he stares up at me loops around my heart and pulls me closer. I peck a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“What do you have planned for today?” I ask.

“The same thing you’re goin’ to have planned for the third Sunday of every month.”

I arch my eyebrow.

“The cafe opens early for a group of us to catch up,” Sawyer says. “Just a tradition we started a few years back when Freya was havin’ a hard time at work. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Of course I do. Cain would’ve insisted even if I was feelin’ a bit precious about you turnin’ me down.”

“You can’t possibly believe I’d turn you down.”

“I did, Elsie. I’m still expectin’ you to come to your senses and change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind unless you treat me badly.”

“No chance. I meant what I said that day on the way to Launceston. I’m goin’ to enjoy worshipin’ you.” He kisses my cheek. “Get on with you now. Have a quick shower, and we’ll get goin’.”

I gather my hair in my hand, ready to braid, but I pause. The mirror has fogged up again, obscuring the best part of the view. I swipe my palm across the glass.

Sawyer catches me immediately. His eyes meet mine in the reflection. “What are you lookin’ at?”

“Oh…nothing…”

He smirks. He knows I’m peeking at him as I finish styling my hair. And who can blame me? The shower water drips over the taut muscles of his back and his delicious tattoos. He’s comfortable naked, even though he barely fits in my tiny shower, and he doesn’t mind the hungry way my gaze eats him up.

“Aw, shit. I forgot to bring my gear up.” He rinses the shampoo from his hair, white suds sliding over the hard planes of his tanned chest. “I left my bag in the truck.”

“I’ll grab it!”

“Elsie, I don’t want you waitin’ on me.”

“I’m basically ready to go. I’m just standing around ogling you because you’re rather nice to look at.”

“Am I?”

“Oh yes. So, if we actually want to get to this breakfast, it’s probably best if I…” I nibble on my lip as my gaze follows the bronze hair trailing down from his belly button.

“Jesus. You and those looks. Get goin’ then, or I’m throwin’ you back in bed.”

I lean into the shower, and Sawyer grins before giving me a peck goodbye. Leaving him to finish up, I grab his keys from the kitchen counter and race downstairs. I cut through the alley and around the corner.

Fantastic.

Kristen is out on her morning walk. She charges down the pavement in her velour tracksuit, her arms swinging to pump her pink hand weights. Her gaze catches on Sawyer’s truck. She slows. When her eyes flick to the sign for the post office, she jolts to a complete stop.

She knows he’s here.

Good.

She’d better get used to the idea of him being with me.

I stride up to the truck.

“Elsie,” she says.

I refuse to look at her. The key easily slips into the lock. “Are you apologizing to me?”

“Honey, I’ll apologize to you when hell freezes over.”

“Then don’t speak to me.”

I yank open the passenger door and drag Sawyer’s overnight bag off the seat. The black duffel thuds onto the pavement. What the hell has he packed in there? Clothes shouldn’t weigh this much. I bend to pick it up and immediately regret the decision. The bag barely budges.

Kristen couldn’t care less that I’m about to dislocate my spine. Her mood is sunny, and she bounces on her tiptoes, waving. “Sawyer,” she cries. “You’re back!”

She gulps, and a hand flutters to her throat. I frown. Sure, the man is gorgeous, but—

I turn and immediately understand. Sawyer charges toward the truck wearing nothing but one of my pink towels knotted dangerously low on his hips. He ignores Kristen completely.

“I was gettin’ worried when you didn’t come back. Pass me that,” he says, waving at his bag.

“Be my guest.” I step out of his way. “I’m not sure I can actually lift that thing.”

His forearms barely flex as he grabs the handles and lifts the duffel effortlessly from the ground.

“How did you do that?” I ask in awe.

He arches a suggestive eyebrow. “Impressed?”

“Very much.”

He squeezes my bottom affectionately. “Let’s get back upstairs.”

“Um… Sawyer? Hello?” Kristen attempts to wedge herself between us, but he’s faster and steers both of us out of her path. “We were all so worried about you. I’m so relieved you’re back. The last two weeks have been so hard.”

He barks a laugh. “Have they?”

“Everyone around town has been really awful to me since the auction. There’s a lot of…whispering…”

“I wonder why.”

“But I never had time to explain my side of the story! I had too many champagnes, and on top of all the stress of organizing the festival and the auction—”

“That’s a piss-weak excuse.” He shakes his head, and for the first time, Kristen looks less certain of herself. “Well, you’re wastin’ your time tryin’ to convince me. You should be thankin’ Jesus that you were born a woman right about now.”

Her nervous smile collapses.

“If you were a man treatin’ my Elsie like you did,” he says, “I would’ve taken a swing at you.”

She stumbles back a step. “Your Elsie?”

“I’m not standin’ out here in my birthday suit because my shower isn’t workin’.”

“Yeah, but…” Kristen’s eyes flick between us.

“You can figure it out,” he says.

“But…”

“Probably time for you to keep walkin’. I think you might’ve caused enough trouble.”

“Me?” Kristen’s mouth drops open, incredulous. “Me! That one”—she points her pink fingernail at me—“had a trash magazine publish lies about me!”

“The truth,” I correct her. “And a very watered-down version of it.”

“Did you?” Sawyer grins at me. “Sounds like my woman stood up for herself.”

I can’t help grinning back.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kristen snaps. “Am I interrupting a touching moment between the two of you?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Move.”

“What? No! Sawyer, we’re friends. Please. Don’t let her come between us—”

“You let her come between us with all your carryin’ on.

I’ll always be thankful for you showin’ me some kindness when I was dealin’ with my shit a couple of years back, but after what you did…

We’re not friends. Not anymore.” His arm wraps protectively around my waist. “Get upstairs, Elsie Hoskins,” he murmurs. “Don’t look back at her.”

I don’t.

Closed for a private function.

The sign hanging lopsided in the cafe window isn’t meant for us.

Sawyer hesitates before he pushes open the glass door. He turns. “Now, a lot of people are here this mornin’,” he says. “You sure you’re feelin’ up to this?”

“I actually can’t wait.”

My heart is stuffed so full of happiness I’m wriggling. Friends! I’m not just going to have my beautiful man in my life, but friends as well. Every third Sunday. Hopefully, other days, too.

“You’ll tell me if it gets too much?” He drops a kiss on my temple. “We can disappear… Go for a walk along the beach…”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Pinch my hand if you change your mind.”

“I’m not going to pinch you!”

“You will if you want to get my attention. It’s hard to hear yourself think around that table once everyone gets talkin’.”

I arch on my tiptoes and brush a kiss over his lips. “Thank you for being patient with me.”

“And thank you,” he whispers back. “For bein’ patient with me. Love you.” He hugs me close before he smacks a gentle hand on my bottom. “Come on.”

I fuss about straightening the belt of my dress. “Are we late?”

“I know better than to be late with you, Elsie Hoskins.” He grins.

“We’re early?”

“Thirty whole minutes. I wanted to give you time to settle in before it gets rowdy.”

When he pushes open the door, laughter drifts in from the deck out back, but the main cafe is empty.

Inside, a lone server scrambles for her tiny notebook before waving us through.

The quiet feels like a buffer between me and the crowd waiting outside.

I cling to it—and Sawyer—for one final deep breath before stepping through the doorway.

Cheers and whistles burst from the crowded table.

Sawyer ducks his head. “Aw, don’t be doin’ that.” His cheeks flush hot pink.

Cain springs from his chair at the end of the table and smacks Sawyer on the back. “I fucking told you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sawyer mutters, pulling me closer before kissing my cheek.

“Who bet on a kiss?” Freya calls.

A few glasses rise around the table, and Sawyer’s cheeks only get redder.

“Let’s toast to that.” Cain leans over to grab his coffee off the table. “To Sawyer finally getting his girl! And to Elsie—welcome to the madness!”

A jumble of champagne flutes, coffee mugs, and teacups lift in the air, and another cheer breaks out.

As Sawyer guides me around the table with a protective hand at my back, tears sting my eyes, but I quickly swipe them away.

Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone always loved him.

I understand. It’s hard not to. Still, a small part of me had braced for disappointment, for a sign that his friends thought he could do better.

Instead, every smile I find around the table is genuine.

The knot in my chest loosens. And all that’s left is relief.

“Oh!” Freya jumps up. “Sawyer. Elsie. I thought you might sit down here.” Her tiny legs scurry to two empty spots almost at the end. She hugs her arm around me as she pulls out the chair. “The calmer end of the table,” she whispers. “So you can get to know some new people.”

I glance at the woman with bobbed blonde hair sitting meekly at the end.

“Hi,” I say. “I’m…”

“Elsie.” She pushes up her glasses with a twitching finger. Is she…as nervous as me? “Everyone was talking about you at the last breakfast.”

I wince, edging into the chair. “Nice things, I hope.”

Sawyer stretches out in the chair next to me. “Only nice things. I got a damn ribbin’ for not bein’ man enough to tell you how I felt, though.” He rests his arm over the back of my chair.

The woman agrees with a shy smile. “I’m Grace, by the way.”

“I’ve seen you,” I say. “You work at the library, don’t you?”

She nods. “I’m the one and only librarian they imported from Hobart. Against my will at first…”

“And, let me guess… Now, you secretly love the place?”

Her laugh is a gentle ripple. “Yes. I’ve seen you stop into the library a few times too. History. Sometimes…baking?”

“Oh, yes. That recipe book I borrowed was a powerful tool of self-reflection.”

“You discovered your inner baker?”

I shake my head. “I even failed at using a boxed mix. I think we can all safely agree my talents lie somewhere other than baking.”

“You won’t hear any complaints from me,” Sawyer says, his thumb a slow swirl on my shoulder. “Those cookies were damn tasty.”

I happily chat with Grace about books and her plans to learn croquet.

Her offer for me to try it with her is instantly accepted.

When I catch Freya watching us, I shoot her a grateful smile.

She grins back. This spot at the end of the table is perfect.

Like at the bar—the noise is behind me. It’s quieter, and I can keep up with the conversation.

I glance up every so often, wondering who we’re waiting for. The other seats fill up, more familiar faces from the community center wandering in, and only one chair waits, empty.

A shadow looms over the doorway.

“So gracious of you to join us!” Freya calls.

Dare bows to her before sauntering around the table to claim the empty chair across from Grace.

His flinty eyes aren’t quite as intimidating in the morning light, but they’re still sharp enough to make me sit up straighter.

His gaze drifts over the table in a slow, critical sweep.

When it pauses on Grace, it’s for a fraction longer than on anyone else. Then, that fierce stare lands on me.

“Morning, little mouse,” he drawls.

“Good morning,” I reply cheerfully. “I’m relieved to see you with your pants on today.”

Sawyer nearly chokes on his sip of water.

Dare grins.

“Explain,” Sawyer growls.

I rest a comforting hand on his thigh. He has nothing to worry about. “I learned a valuable lesson to never, ever search for a hiding spot beside Cain’s and Freya’s garage,” I say.

Sawyer roars with laughter.

Smiling, I settle back in my chair and let myself enjoy this new life I stumbled on—and then fought for. The conversation flows around me, so easy and welcoming, and the last of my doubts melts away. The lessons I’ll learn from now on will be different…and I’m ready for them.

I know I’ll never need to find another hiding spot. I found my safe place. Here. I found…him.