Page 34 of The Rest is History

“Ah, fuuuckkk,” Wade says when he opens the first box and finds it filled with mini sponge cakes. To see a grown man almost have an orgasm over a boxful of cakes that look like fairies made them is beyond hilarious.

When I realize that I’m losing control of the boxes, I grab the one with the apple pies and back away from the mini food-frenzy, holding the box close to my chest.

“You guys are fuckin’ crazy.” Sawyer’s voice behind me sends a thousand butterflies racing down into my stomach. Shit. What the fuck?

Deacon holds up two empty boxes. “You snooze, you lose.”

Sawyer laughs, and I feel the sound in my chest. Like a skip of a heartbeat. I haven’t turned around yet. My palms dampen. What is this shit?

“Hey, Reece.”

Now, I have to turn around.

He’s dressed in work clothes. His shirt is tucked into his jeans and all that’s good for is to tell everyone how flat his stomach is. His sleeves are rolled up to his forearms. Thick, thick forearms. My stomach dips at the sight of him.

“Who stopped at Dotty’s?” he asks.

I clear my throat and raise my hand like a teacher’s pet. “Uh, I did.”

“She told you about the post office?”

I grin. “She did. Also about the diner and someone named Deliah.”

“No one will take care of you better than Dotty.” Then, he turns to Deacon with a scowl. “Unlike these assholes. You guys didn’t even leave me one thing?”

Deacon holds up two empty boxes and grins like a maniac. The boys laugh their heads off, sucking at their fingertips as they disperse.

Maybe Sawyer thinks the box I’m holding is empty too. “I saved you some,” I say quickly, as he turns away.

He looks back, his eyes dropping to the box. When he looks at me again, his eyes are just . . . delighted. Pride swells inside my chest. He’s pleased.

I step up to him, shoving the box into his hand. He opens it and if he was delighted before, now he’s just over the moon.

“Apple pies?” he says.

He brings his gaze back to me and I hold it too long. “Yeah.”

He bites into one. Actually, it’s more that he put the whole thing into his mouth and ate it all in one bite. I watch his mouth. Can’t take my eyes off him when his tongue comes out to lick at the sticky sweetness on his lips. I’m mesmerized.

“Apple pie is my favorite,” he murmurs once he’s finished. His voice brings my eyes back to his, and the watchfulness there makes my breath catch.

His eyes drop to my mouth.

My lips part without my permission.

“I moved into my own place yesterday.” It’s the first thing I could think of to get us both out of this fucked-up moment.

“Well, that’s awesome. You’re really getting things done, huh? Well done.”

The moment from before passes. I relax inside my skin and throw him a big smile. This is why I wanted to tell him first. I knew he'd say something nice like that.

We get to work after that. We work in silence mostly because the noises from the tools, and the trucks don’t allow for conversation, which might have worked out well for me if it were not for my heightened awareness of every single one of Sawyer’s movements, and then my over-romanticization of those movements.

I’ve known him all of two weeks, talked to him only a handful of times, yet, suddenly, his grip on the ax when he slams it down onto a thick piece of wood is no longer just a man doing his job. I obsess over the strength of that grip. The tautness of the skin covering his forearms. The sweat over his brows. And all I can think about is how Asher must enjoy all that brute strength.

Chapter 14

Sawyer

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