Page 39 of Branded

But… is Graham right?

Has Sawyer Westbrook managed, in such a short time, to make herself a home in my heart?

I’m not sure I have an answer to that yet, but what I do know is I crave her presence and the more I’m with her, the more I want to be around her.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

Chapter 10

Sawyer

I’mnotsureI’veever deep cleaned this house as much as I am right now. I’m cleaning shit I didn’t even know existed. I refuse to let him see even a speck out of place, even though at the end of the day, I’m a pretty messy person.

Not “eww, you’re gross” messy, but I’ll just leave the laundry piled in the basket and use it all until it just ends up in the washer again. It’s a cycle that works for me, and what’s the point in changing things now?

I’m proud of this home and everything I’ve done with it. I fell in love the moment I stepped inside with its open floor plan, expansive windows, and hardwood flooring. So much light is allowed in and that added vitamin D in my everyday life has made settling in Sunset Valley easier than I could have imagined.

The knock on the door sends my heart rate through the roof. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like I’ve never been around him before.

It’s just different with him being inside of my home. It’s like… another level.

With one quick glance in the mirror that hangs in my entryway, I pull the door open to find the most delicious version of Isaac I have ever seen.

He is wearing dark, navy blue slacks with a white collared shirt that hugs his biceps in the most incredible way. His hair is a bit messy, but it looks intentional, and his sneakers are pristine white. He has this swagger about him that makes it hard to remain upright.

“Hello, beautiful,” he says in that caramel-like voice, with his hands in his pockets, casual as ever.

“Hi.” I lean against my doorframe and just take him in for a moment, because it would be a shame not to gawk, at least a little bit.

“Hi,” he repeats, then leans forward to press a kiss to my forehead. “Can I come in or are you going to stand here and stare all night?”

“What’s so bad about that?” I joke then step aside. “Come on in.”

He walks by me and into my entryway and I close the door behind us.

“Wow, Sawyer. This place is nice. It’s cozy.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted it to be. It’s what I needed.” I step around in front of him. “Are you thirsty? Hungry?”

“All of the above, actually.”

“Follow me. I’ll make you something to drink and dinner should be nearly finished.”

“You didn’t have to make dinner for me, Sawyer. I would have been thrilled with an ordered pizza and beer.”

“Well, I wanted to because I think cooking is fun, and as for beer...” I open the fridge and grab two frosty bottles. “I have that covered.”

“You’re beautiful, funny, adorable, sweet, and you have impeccable taste in beer? Pinch me.”

“Now you’re just laying it on thick,” I giggle. “Make yourself at home.”

I watch him walk around my living room with his hands in his pockets, looking at the artwork on my walls and the few pictures I have on the mantle.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No, I think I have everything covered. It’s just in the oven,” I twist open my beer with my forearm, just like my Dad taught me, without even thinking anything of it.

“Whoa. We aren’t just going to ignore what you just did and not even acknowledge it,” he says, with wide eyes as he places his beer on the counter.

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