Chapter 26-Sawyer
“Hey,” she starts, voice soft, uncertain. “What happened?”
“You left,” I bite out before I can stop myself.
Her brows pull together. “We were just—”
“Didn’t text. Didn’t leave a note. You just left.”
She blinks, thrown by the heat in my tone. “Sawyer, that’s not—”
“Where the hell were you?” The words come out sharper than intended, a growl scraping up my throat.
Her eyes widen.
“Thrifting. With Angie. I told her I wanted to pick up some fabric for—”
“You tell me before you leave this ranch.”
Her chin lifts, that spark I’ve come to crave catching behind her eyes.
“You don’t own me, Sawyer. And I didn’t think I needed permission to go to the damn store.”
The words hit like a punch to the sternum because she’s right—and I hate that she’s right.
I drag a hand down my face, trying to reel it in, but my pulse is still hammering like I just walked off a battlefield.
“You know it’s not about permission, Bit.”
“Then what’s it about?” she demands, gesturing between us. “Because this—” her hand sweeps the space crackling between our bodies “—is a little crazy, no?”
“First, it’s not about owning you,” I bite back. “It’s about safety. That bastard from the Hellbound crew could still be out there. And second, crazy is exactly what I felt thinking about what could have happened to you!”
I don’t mean to raise my voice, but it rips out anyway.
I see Angie at the door, her eyes flicking between us before she quietly ducks back inside, no doubt pretending to fuss with dinner.
It’s what I pay her for.
Not to overhear me losing my shit over a woman who makes me forget I’m supposed to be level-headed.
A Lil Bit of trouble indeed.
She takes a step closer, her voice steady but her hands trembling just enough that I notice.
“Well, what am I supposed to do, Sawyer? Hide in your house forever?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
There’s no good answer for that. And if I want to keep her here, I probably shouldn’t tell her what I’m thinking.
Yeah, Lil Bit, you can hide in my house forever. Preferably barefoot and naked, maybe even pregnant.
Christ, she’ll think I’m a lunatic.
So, I keep my mouth shut, clenching my jaw so hard I think I might have broken a cap I got after fighting back in high school.
She sighs, the fight bleeding out of her a little.
“I get it. I should’ve texted you, let you know where I was heading, but honestly, I didn’t want to bother you while you were working.”
“Bother me.” I step closer, voice low, and rough. “Anytime. Day or night. I have to know where you are.”
I hate how needy it sounds, how it betrays every calm facade I try to keep around her.
But facts are facts. And newsflash, I am obsessed with this woman.
Her expression softens. “Are you—you are,” she whispers, eyes wide with sudden understanding, “you’re scared for me.”
I exhale through my nose, jaw tight, eyes focused.
“And I appreciate it, Sawyer,” she continues gently, “but I can’t live in a bubble. I won’t.”
“Damn it, I know, but I—” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck. “I thought maybe, maybe you just left.”
Her head snaps up.
“You thought I left you? Why would I do that?”
The disbelief on her face guts me. The understanding she displays next? Guts me even more.
She steps forward, hands catching mine.
I clasp them and press them against my chest, right over the thunder in my ribs. “Couldn’t handle it if you left without a word,” I murmur.
“Look,” she says, her voice small but sure, “this is really new, and we’re still learning about each other, still figuring out the rules. But you should know, Sawyer, I don’t want to leave you. The way I feel about you? It’s, well, it’s big.”
God help me, my pulse races even faster.
“I feel big about you too, Lil Bit.”
Her smile wobbles, and I see relief flicker through her eyes.
“Yeah? Good. Because I finally feel like I belong somewhere, and I’m not letting fear take that away.”
“Okay.” My throat works around the word. “I understand. And I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped. I just want you safe. Here. With me.”
Her hands slide around my waist. I grip her hips automatically, grounding myself in the heat of her.
“You can’t protect me from everything, Sawyer,” she says softly. “But you can trust me to be careful. And to come home.”
Home.
She called the ranch home.
All the air leaves my lungs because for the first time in my life I feel like I am home. And it’s all because of her.
This slip of a woman who stormed into my life just days ago.
That she’s right again—that I can’t protect her from the world even though I want to—well, that’s the part that kills me most.
I pull her closer until she’s pressed against me, until her heartbeat thuds against mine.
“You know you really are driving me goddamn crazy, Lil Bit. You do know that, right?”
Her lips twitch.
“Good crazy?” she teases, and the tension finally starts to ease.
“Depends on the time of day,” I mutter, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.
From the kitchen window comes a muffled chuckle. Angie’s voice floats out, amused and fond.
“Told ya he’d huff and puff, Honey. Man like that don’t know what to do when a woman makes her own plans.”
Bit laughs—low, soft—and the sound settles the storm in my chest better than anything else could.
“I’m sorry you were worried,” she whispers softly, and it’s like a balm to my soul.
I rest my chin atop her head, breathing her in—wildflowers and strawberries and thrift-store dust, and something that just smells like home.
“Next time,” I say quietly, “just text me before you go. I don’t care if it’s to the damn mailbox.”
“Deal,” she whispers against my chest. “But I’m still going to leave the house from time to time. Shopping, thrifting, walking around. I’m a pretty active person despite this big ass of mine.”
I huff a laugh. “First off, I like this ass just fine, so don’t you go calling it big like it’s something bad,” I growl, and smack my hands on her perfect curves.
She squeaks, and I steal a kiss before continuing, “Second, you can do anything you want after I teach you to shoot and get you a permit to carry—”
Her head jerks up. “What? No, I don’t like guns.”
“You don’t have to like it,” I tell her, serious now. “Just know how to use it. To protect yourself.”
“Sawyer,” she protests.
“Do it for me?” I ask, brushing my thumb along her jaw.
She huffs, but finally nods, muttering, “Fine. I’ll do it for you.”
And even though it grates every possessive bone in my body, I nod too.
Because loving a woman like Bit means learning to let her live.
And that might be the hardest kind of protecting there is—watching out for someone willful enough to want to do it all on her own.
But she doesn’t understand there’s real evil in this world. Evil soldiers like me who’ve seen and doled out.
I’ve done bad things in my life, but right now, with this woman in my arms, I know there’s good in the world.
She is the good.
And I will do everything I can to protect her. Keep her safe. Whole. And with me.
Until I breathe my very last breath.