Chapter 22
JULIETTE
Carol lingers by the front counter, purse tucked under her arm, eyes sparkling in that way that means she’s about to say something she’s been holding onto all morning.
“I have to say,” she tells me, “you’ve done an incredible job with this whole Sawyer situation.”
I can’t help but to choke on my laughter. “That’s a sentence I didn’t expect to hear today.”
She shrugs. “Oh, come on. The business association is thrilled. Social engagement is bonkers, foot traffic is up, and now they’re officially kicking off the Dominion ambassador program with local businesses.”
I pause mid-receipt stack. “Officially?”
“Officially,” she confirms. “Which means”—she grins—"I hope you don’t get sick of seeing Sawyer.”
I don’t miss a beat. “Oh, we won’t.”
The look she gives me suggests she hears exactly what I meant.
Carol gathers her things, then hesitates again, lowering her voice. “Oh—you know, I probably shouldn’t say this, but I have a friend on the grant committee.”
My heart immediately does a very unhelpful little jump.
“She mentioned the mystery shopper already came through,” Carol continues. “So… if you got it, you should be hearing soon.”
I grip the edge of the counter like it might float away. “Soon as in…?”
Carol shrugs. “Soon as in soon.”
That’s not helpful. But it’s also everything.
After she leaves—with one last wink and a cheerful “keep doing what you’re doing!”—I cross my fingers behind my back, then uncross them, then cross them again just in case the universe didn’t catch it the first time.
I’m still mid-silent plea when the bell over the door jingles.
Sawyer walks in wearing a soft hoodie and that relaxed smile that’s been sneaking up on me lately, the one that feels less like a performance and more like a truth. He’s carrying a cardboard drink tray in one hand and a paper bag in the other.
“Hi,” he says, like he hasn’t just improved my entire day by existing.
Charlie pops up from behind the counter instantly. “Is that coffee?”
“Sure is. With donuts too,” Sawyer confirms. “Figured it’s a good afternoon pick-me-up. Plus one very important donut that no one is allowed to touch because it’s for Theo.”
Charlie gasps. “You even labeled it this time.”
“I’m a donut connoisseur myself,” Sawyer says solemnly.
I shake my head, smiling. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know,” he says easily. “But I like doing it.”
He sets everything down on the counter, already moving like he knows the rhythm here, like he’s done this a hundred times instead of whatever number we’re actually on. When he hands me my coffee, our fingers brush, and it feels familiar in a way that still surprises me.
His gaze flicks to my face, warm and curious. “How’s your day been?”
Sawyer asks like he genuinely wants to know. Like the answer matters. Like we’ve been doing this for twenty years and he’s ready to ask me that for twenty more.
“Busy,” I say. “Which is great, because busy usually means we’re paying bills.”
He smiles, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “Ah. A fan of financial stability.”
“Big fan,” I say. “Huge supporter.”
Charlie snorts from across the shop. “Nothing sexier than cash flow.”
Sawyer laughs, easy and unguarded, and it does something ridiculous to my chest. He leans a little closer, lowering his voice. “So, about last night…”
“Stop it,” I growl, changing the subject and clearing my throat like I mean business. “Remember Carol? She stopped by. Apparently, the business association is very pleased with you.”
He curls his lip in delight. Like a sexy little snarl. “Should I be worried?”
“Only if you’re afraid of commitment,” I say sweetly.
He raises an eyebrow. “Too late for that.”
I pretend not to notice the way that lands. Pretend my pulse doesn’t skip.
Charlie clears his throat again. Loudly. “I’m still standing right here.”
Sawyer doesn’t move away. “You’re doing great work, Charlie.”
Charlie sighs. “I’m going to need a raise.”
I take a sip of my coffee, warmth spreading through me, and for a moment the shop feels exactly right. I’m still smiling—like, really smiling—when the bell over the door jingles again.
I look up, only to have my stomach immediately fall to the floor.
Theo bursts in first, wearing what looks like a brand new blazer, with his backpack slung over one shoulder, cheeks flushed, joy fully activated. “Mom!”
Right behind him is David. Casual. Relaxed. Like this was always the plan.
My brain scrambles to catch up. I look at my watch. “Theo? Why aren’t you—”
“Dad took me out of school today,” Theo announces proudly. “We went shopping.”
David lifts a hand. “Before you react—”
“Oh, I’m reacting,” I say, already doing math in my head. “Who said you could—”
“We needed clothes,” Theo cuts in. “For my birthday and the Father-Son Breakfast!”
I open my mouth to say something, anything, when I become acutely aware that Sawyer has gone very still beside me.
However, Theo has seen him and, not aware of the situation, says, “Sawyer, wanna see my clothes for the game?”
Sawyer crouches slightly, easy and warm. “Sure, bud.”
I turn to David, still assessing but also protecting. “David, this is Sawyer. He’s our…” I pause, unsure of what to label him as. Our hockey player? Our gentle giant?
“...shop assistant she never knew she needed.” Sawyer straightens and offers a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same. I’m a fan.” David takes it, his grip firm, his smile polite but assessing.
Something subtle shifts between them. Nothing dramatic. Just two men quietly measuring each other while pretending not to. If this was a reality show, there would be producers instructing cameramen to zoom in, then insist on layering the moment with dramatic music.
Theo, blissfully unaware of the energy crackling around him, tugs on my sleeve. “Dad bought me a blazer.”
“A blazer,” I repeat.
“For the breakfast,” David says, like this clears everything up.
Sawyer glances at me. “A blazer,” he echoes, solemn. “Cool.”
“I’m wearing it,” Theo grins as he spins around, needing to show us the goods. “I look awesome, right?”
“You always do,” Sawyer says without hesitation.
Theo straightens immediately, shoulders back like he’s already modeling the blazer. “Dad says I look very grown up.”
“You will,” I say, smoothing his hair.
Sawyer grins. “You’ll be asking to borrow my suits soon, won’t you?”
“Oh yeah!” Theo laughs and leans into Sawyer’s side for just a second—easy, unthinking. Sawyer doesn’t hesitate. He just rests a hand briefly on Theo’s shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I catch it the second it happens.
David does too.
His gaze lingers—not sharp, not threatened. A barely-here father who, at this moment, is observant. Taking inventory. Reassessing.
“Well,” David says after a beat, checking his watch, “I should head out. I’ve got to get ready for a dinner interview tonight.”
“Another one?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Occupational hazard.”
Theo rolls his eyes. “He talks on his phone a lot.”
David huffs a laugh despite himself, then turns to Theo. “I’ll see you later, okay? Be good.”
“I always am,” Theo says solemnly.
He nods my way, then turns to Sawyer again. “Guess I’ll see you at the game.”
Sawyer meets his eyes easily. “Looking forward to it.”
There’s no edge in it. No competition. David gives a small nod, satisfied—or at least reassured.
The bell jingles as David leaves, the door swinging shut behind him.
Theo immediately relaxes, tugging at his blazer. “Can I take this off now?”
“Yes,” I say. “Please.”
Sawyer laughs softly and crouches again so he’s eye-level with him. “Still looks awesome, though.”
Theo beams like he’s just been knighted as Sawyer turns to me, eyebrow raised, a smile tugging at his mouth.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
I nod. “Yeah. I really am.”
And I mean it.
Because standing here—in my shop, with my kid nearby, my boundaries intact, and Sawyer still right beside me—I realize something important: I don’t need rescuing. I don’t think I ever did. A nudge, yes. A helping hand? For sure. But no one needed to save me.
Yet, I’m beginning to realize, I don’t mind the company at all.