Chapter 6 Skye
SIX
SKYE
Night and day start to blur together as I finally make my way out of the bedroom and into the rest of the cabin. The pain in my lower pelvis from needing to pee has me beelining straight to the bathroom and ignoring the sofa—with the very large, very sullen mountain main lying atop it—altogether.
I shouldn’t have kissed him last night. Any possibility of sleep had escaped me the moment I did that, and in true pregnancy-related anxiety spiral, I spent the last several hours contemplating why I had to do something so stupid.
Why did I go for the lips instead of the cheek? I could blame it on being dark, but…I shake my head as I wash my hands and dry them on the hand towel by the sink. Nope, I saw him clear as day.
It’s the loneliness, I decide as I leave the bathroom. I have great support: my best friend, my sister, my cousin, even my own OB slash boss. It’s not like I’m wanting for anything with them around.
Except for orgasms that aren’t self-inflicted. Those are scarce while nine months pregnant.
Then again, it wasn’t like I was having many of them before my ex left.
Those were pretty self-inflicted too…
I enter the living room quietly, coming up short with a frown. Sawyer isn’t lying on the sofa. As a matter of fact, he’s nowhere in the cabin. His disappearance makes my heart pound. A few more steps allows me to see the kitchen and dark landscape beyond the window.
Still no grumpy hero.
Oh God, did he leave? Was I too weird last night?
It shouldn’t surprise me. Men like him…well, they’re an entirely different breed. If they choose to live on the mountain, then there’s a good reason.
Knowing a little more about Sawyer has me understanding more and more why he’s so…him.
But I really, really hope I didn’t scare him away last night.
A sound comes from somewhere behind me, making me turn. The mountain man in question, all six foot something with tattoos curling up his thick forearms, leaves the bedroom in fresh flannel and clean jeans.
“Oh,” I say, running my eyes over him. “There you are.”
Sawyer comes to a stop, brows furrowed. “Where else would I be?”
I feel my cheeks warm as I stutter. “Well, I couldn’t—I thought—maybe you'd left.”
A frown tips his lips as he takes a step towards me. “I wouldn’t leave you during a blizzard, Skye.”
There’s something about the gruffness of his voice that sends a tingle right through me. And he still smells amazing. “I thought maybe I scared you away. After what happened last night. Which should not have happened, and I am so sorry—”
Sawyer cuts me off with a sigh, pushing past me without a word.
Maybe I fucked this up. He came and rescued me, and I…
I thanked him with a kiss.
Honestly, I still don’t know what came over me. Even now, I don’t quite understand the panic rushing through me as I watch him enter the kitchen. I clasp my hands over my belly, following slowly, though I manage to keep a very normal, healthy distance between us.
There’s a draw about this quiet, sullen man. There shouldn’t be. Not a single ounce of me should be pulled into him and whatever issues he’s dealing with. The men who live on the mountain do so for a reason. Personal reasons, but a reason that should make anyone run—even if I don’t know it.
My best friend might have found true love with one of these mountain men, but that’s not something I should think about at all.
Not now, not ever.
Not with my sweet girl so close to arriving.
And not when I know damn well I need to be alone. Maybe I am no better than the mountain men, because being alone is better than relying on someone who could walk out at any moment.
“You must be hungry,” he says, voice low. “Go sit down, and I’ll make you something to eat.”
Fuck. I know what it is about him: it’s how easily he slips into a role where he takes care of me. I used to be the person who took care of everyone. My sister, my cousin. My baby daddy ex who jumped ship when I gave him the chance.
But this man I don’t know well has no problem stepping up and just…doing these little things that make my heart warm. All the necessary walls I’ve been constructing these last few months against everything—men, in particular—are starting to crumble just from him.
It makes me think there’s someone out there who could see me as more than just a failing soon-to-be single mom.
It makes me hope he could see me as more.
Nope. Snap out of it. It’s just the hormones. Just me being nine months pregnant and ready to pop. It’s the loneliness I’ve been feeling the last couple of months especially.
And yet, as I watch him cook oatmeal on the stove—something so simple it shouldn’t make tears spring to my eyes—I realise it might not be that easy after all.
I check my cell for any missed calls or texts, but the lack of either makes my belly dip. What if something happened to my sister or cousin? What if they’re hurt—or worse?
I know Sophia will tell them I’m safe with Sawyer, but it makes me a little nervous knowing no one has tried to reach out.
Granted, reception is all over the place.
One little shift on the sofa and I go from three bars to none.
And if last winter proved anything, my sister is probably slammed at the hospital.
Who knows how many nurses couldn’t make it to their shifts and doctors who had to call out because they got snowed in?
I remember last year, and it was hell.
Sawyer is either oblivious or doesn’t care about my inner turmoil, not as he sets himself up at the dining table to fix…something. I don’t know what he’s tinkering with, but it has him completely engrossed, allowing me to observe him.
His quiet nature should put me off, but it doesn’t. I’m so used to activity that the silence and calm here is nice. It makes me wonder more about this man: his life, his past, his now. Especially after last night and what we talked about.
I’m still mortified over the kiss and talking down about holiday babies, and well, pregnancy brain got the better of me.
But it’s also hard to forget the wonder in his eyes when he spoke and baby girl responded.
She’s never been much of a mover, usually so calm.
And then he started speaking, and it’s like she came alive.
I still don’t understand how he has such an effect not just on her, but on me, too.
I’m a single mother, working my ass off to maintain the job I always dreamed of having, while also preparing to raise a kid alone. Better to be alone than with someone who needs to be raised alongside a child, in my opinion, so it’s not like I miss having a boyfriend.
But last night, it kind of felt like I had someone who could be a partner in all of this.
A breath, frustrated and heavy, falls from my lips as I sit back.
“It’ll be a little longer,” Sawyer says suddenly, his voice low, the grumble sending a shiver down my spine. “But I’ll let you know when it’s done.”
I frown and look over at all the parts strewn across the dining table. “When what’s done?” I ask, contemplating whether I should get up and have a look at whatever he’s doing.
“The satellite phone.” He looks over at me, emotions carefully hidden, save for the flicker of uncertainty in his dark eyes. “So you can call your sister and friend.”
Emotion creates a thick ball in my throat, making it hard to breathe. “Satellite phone?” I repeat, clambering to my feet. “When—how?”
Sawyer watches me, eyes dark, as I waddle over to him.
“Went to the other cabins. I have keys,” he explains, tracking me, though he doesn’t move even as I come to a stop beside him.
“One of the rangers had a broken one in a cabinet in the kitchen. Another had the tools to fix it. Figured they wouldn’t mind so long as I returned the gear after and explained. ”
I blink hard against the tears forming in my eyes. “Well,” I say, clearing my throat. “Thank you.” Even though I try to look at all he’s done to fix the device, I can’t seem to pull my gaze from him.
The mountain man bows his head in a nod. “Get some rest,” he says without looking away. “Let me take care of it.”
It’s those parting words that stick with me as I go for a midday nap. What would it feel like to have someone else take care of it?
What would it feel like to rely on someone as unmoving as Sawyer?