Chapter 9
Sawyer
“You’re happy even by your standards,” Garrison says as he paddles his kayak just behind mine.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you’re obnoxiously upbeat in the worst of circumstances,” Weston adds. It’s a rare occurrence that he comes out with us, but I’m glad he’s here. Guy is way too uptight for his own good. He could use some peace more than most.
“This coming from Mr. Always Moody? I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Weston grumbles something, but it’s not quite loud enough that I can hear him from my kayak.
“It’s a good day. The sun is shining, birds are chirping.
What’s there not to be upbeat about?” I’d had a wonderful time with Anastasia last night, and then a fantastic meeting with Pastor Reeves this morning.
I’m even thinking this Sunday might be the first time I attend because I want to, and not because someone’s pushed me into it.
“Sure. Or it could be the date you had with Anastasia last night,” Garrison calls forward.
“About time,” Weston snaps from where he trails behind Garrison.
“It wasn’t a date.” But it sure is a good thing they can’t see the dopey grin on my face.
After that moment in the kitchen, when I very nearly ignored the promise I made to myself and kissed her senseless, the rest of the night was charged.
We ate popcorn and laughed through the show, but she sat closer to me.
Her knee brushed my thigh when she folded her legs up on the couch.
Our fingers brushed multiple times as we both went in for popcorn. Truth is, I’d had my fill of food before we even started, yet I kept eating the popcorn for the sheer chance of touching her.
Just thinking about it gives me a rush all over again.
“From what Katelyn said, it was,” Garrison counters.
“We’ve watched TV and eaten dinner together hundreds of times,” I tell him.
“Except she just turned down a proposal. During which, might I add, she made intense eye contact with you.”
I should have known he would have caught it, too. They probably all did. When you train to catch even the slightest changes in behavior, it’s hard to miss much.
“She was nervous. The guy just proposed marriage to her, and she wasn’t ready.”
“Because she has feelings for you,” Garrison counters.
“She could do worse,” Weston offers. Since he grew up here in Stormwatch Landing, and he and Zane have been best friends since childhood, Anastasia is a sort of surrogate sister to him.
After his own sister was murdered, he became even more protective over Anastasia, his way of making sure nothing ever happened to her.
Which makes his comment a total compliment.
“Be careful, Cowboy, you’re starting to show your softer side.”
“I don’t have a softer side,” he replies.
I laugh. “Yeah, okay.” The fact that he took a local troubled teen, Kyle Harding, under his wing a few months ago, giving him a job at the ranch, says otherwise.
Silence falls over us again, leaving the soft sound of our paddles cutting through the glassy surface, the faint whistle of the breeze moving through the tall grass, and the occasional insect or bird to keep us company.
Man, I love it out here.
The last time I managed a trip with Garrison, we’d taken his now-wife Katelyn out for the first time. It had been a great day, though it ended with Jack and Anastasia joining us at the campfire.
Tonight, though, it’ll just be her.
I smile, happiness unlike anything I’ve ever felt settling over me. My girl. Maybe not quite, but soon. Truthfully, if we have more nights like last night, I’m not sure how much longer I can hold off.
How much time does she need?
Slow and steady, Maddox. You’ve waited almost seven years. You can wait another few weeks.
If I’m really honest with myself, though, another night like last night, when she stares up at me through thick, dark lashes, her lips parting as that gorgeous hazel gaze locks on mine, and those few weeks are going to become a moot point.
While Garrison, Thomas, Weston, and Zane all toss bean bags toward their targets, I finish laying out what we need for s’mores. Containers of chocolate bars, marshmallows, caramel nibs, and graham crackers line my tailgate.
“Those look delicious.” Anastasia steps up at my side as I pull the roasting sticks out of their bag.
“I couldn’t agree more,” I reply as I look over at her.
Color dusts her cheeks rosy, and she looks away. “How was kayaking today?”
“It was nice. Been too long.”
“Maybe I’ll take a day off and go with you next time.”
“Yeah?” I arch a brow. “Well, Knox, that would be quite a treat.”
She laughs softly. “Business is doing really well, and I’m finally at a point where I could afford to hire another barista. Besides, I figure I’ll need someone trained up and ready when Katelyn goes on maternity leave.”
“I think that would be great, seriously. You work too hard.”
“Says the guy whose shop lights were on at two this morning.”
I slide two marshmallows onto a stick and offer it to her. “Anastasia Knox, are you stalking me? Because if you are, I accept.”
More color and another smile. Two things I will never tire of seeing on her beautiful face. “Hardly. I just happened to be up, too.”
“And why were you up?”
She scrunches her nose in that adorable way of hers. “Inventory.”
I shake my head. “Well, I tell you what. Next time, I’ll bring my laptop over and do my books while you count coffee beans.”
Her grin has my stomach flipping. “I would actually love that.”
Yet another thing we’ve done before. More times than I can count, she’d come to the shop or I’d go to her, and we’d work silently, side by side. Now, though, the offer feels heavier. More along the lines of a study date where you’re pretty sure you won’t be studying.
I slide two more marshmallows onto my stick and follow her over to the fire. Ryker taps his screen, and music drifts out of the travel speaker he brought with him. Then, he gets up and crosses over toward my truck to make a s’more of his own.
We stick the marshmallows into the fire.
“So, I was thinking another round of Hogan’s Heroes tomorrow night?”
Anastasia’s eyes glitter in the firelight. “That would be fantastic.”
“Good.”
The flames ignite her marshmallows, and she squeals as she pulls them out of the fire. Unfortunately, she’s not fast enough, and the flames devour them. “Oh no!”
I hand her my stick, then take hers and gently blow out the flames, revealing two well-done marshmallows. Laughing, I nod toward my stick. “Here. Perfectly golden.”
“You eat yours,” she insists, offering it back to me.
“Nah, I don’t mind my mallows well done.”
Anastasia eyes me. “Yes, you do.”
In lieu of a response, I press a graham cracker on either side of the marshmallows and slide them off the stick. Then, I set the stick aside and take the top off just long enough to add some caramel nibs. “See? Perfect.”
“You don’t have to do that, Sawyer.”
“I know. But I want to.” I take a bite so she can’t argue anymore. The marshmallows are definitely more well done than I would care for, but to me—it’s perfect. Because she’s sitting right here.
Laughing, she makes a s’more, chocolate and graham crackers pressed against the golden marshmallows.
“It is crazy to me that you don’t use chocolate.” She takes a bite, and a bit of melted marshmallow sticks to her bottom lip.
Without thinking, I reach out and wipe it away with my thumb, then bring it to my lips to lick the marshmallow off. It’s not meant to be anything but a simple gesture. However, the moment I do, Anastasia’s pupils dilate, and the smile fades from her lips.
The air around us ignites, that spark desperate for relief.
Oh.
Someone clears their throat, and I rip my attention away from Anastasia as Zane and Tessa take their seats. A quick look around, and I realize everyone is watching us. Katelyn is grinning, Garrison’s “I told you so” face plain as day. Even Weston and Ryker seem amused.
Oh boy.
I take another bite of my s’more and turn my attention to the fire.
“So, how are things at the ranch?” Anastasia asks Weston.
He grins as though to say, Nice save. “Busy. Virginia has been having some health issues, so she’s handed off a lot of the daily responsibilities to me. Having Kyle has helped, though. Kid is a hard worker,” he adds to Garrison, who nods appreciatively.
Seven months ago, it was revealed that Kyle offered up one of Garrison’s keys in exchange for money to care for his little sister.
The men who made the offer nearly killed Garrison, and it ended with Kyle’s expulsion from school.
Weston was ready to throw the teen to the wolves, but Garrison’s steadfast belief in the kid changed his mind.
That, and when things really hit the fan, the kid came through.
“Oh no, is Virginia okay?” Anastasia asks.
Virginia Faye has run the Stormwatch Ranch since she and her husband bought it from Weston’s mom after her husband ran off. Even so, Virginia and her late husband allowed them to remain in the ranch manager’s cabin at the edge of the property.
His mom has since relocated to an apartment in Florida, but Weston still lives there, working on the ranch in exchange for rent and a small paycheck.
“I think so. If it’s serious, she hasn’t told me. Said it’s just the price of getting old.” He shrugs.
“Any word from Reese?” Tessa asks.
At the mention of his teenage sweetheart, Weston’s mood further falters. From what I hear, the two of them had been headed for marriage when Reese suddenly ended things and took off right as Weston was reeling from the loss of his sister.
I don’t know much more than that, but for it to have wounded the stoic cowboy in front of me, it must have been hard.
“She doesn’t care about this place,” he says. “She never did.”
Tessa starts to respond but seems to shake it off. Zane wraps an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her temple.
The background music changes, shifting to a slow song about a long-lost love and the fight to win it back. I glance over at Anastasia and hold out my hand.
“Want to dance?”
“Here?” she looks around at the others.
“Dancing sounds nice.” Katelyn stands and reaches down to Garrison, clearly trying to make Anastasia feel better about it. “How about it, hubby?”
“Absolutely.” He stands, and Katelyn winks in my direction.
I grin back, my way of thanking her without bringing too much attention to it.
“Okay.” Anastasia slips her hand into mine, and I tug her to her feet, then pull her in close. I wrap one arm around her waist and press our joined hands against my chest.
We’ve danced before. Once or twice when we went to hear a band playing at the local watering hole.
But never like this.
Never so—intimate.
She rests her head against my chest, and I close my eyes, losing myself in the song and the way it feels to have her in my arms. The warmth of her body pressed against mine.
“I could stay like this forever,” she whispers.
I lean down closer so only she can hear me. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”