Page 69 of Branded

“Oh shit!”

I scramble off the sofa and into the kitchen all the while he laughs at me.

Isaac

“This is actually really delicious,” I say, as I take another spoonful of soup into my mouth. “Even if most of it ended up on the stove instead of my bowl.”

I quickly dodge a wadded up napkin tossed my way.

“See if I ever feed you again, mister.”

We are on the sofa together, warm bowls of soup in hand, simply enjoying each other’s company. It’s not something I do with women often. Most of my time with them is very much like a business transaction. I get what I need, they get what they need, and then we go on with our lives. We are repeat customers for one another if we are feeling it, and sometimes we aren’t. A relationship is not something I could have ever predicted or wanted for myself. Until Sawyer.

“Thank you for taking me with you this weekend. I really had a great time,” she says, blowing on her spoonful to cool it down.

“Everyone adored you. Anytime I spoke with someone, they’d ask me where I found you because you’re so vivacious and personable.”

“Which I don’t understand because I think I’m a bit weird and awkward.”

“Why do you think you’re weird?”

She shrugs a bit then takes another bite. “I just feel like I do odd things. I find silly things funny and like to play around, sometimes too much. I have a horrifically dirty mind.”

“Um, since when are these bad things? There is nothing wrong with playing or laughing, and I always encourage a dirty mind. Hell, I make dad jokes all the time, and I’m not even a dad.”

She leans forward to place her now empty bowl on the coffee table, quickly objecting when I stand to take hers along with mine into the kitchen.

“You’re a guest in my home, Isaac. I’m not letting you pick up after me.”

“And you cooked. My Grams taught me manners, Sawyer. The least I can do is clean up the dishes.” I bend at the waist and kiss her lips. “I’m just going to wash these. I’ll be right back.”

I take a moment in the kitchen to really absorb everything I see, to try to get more of an insight to Sawyer. She has such a unique style in her home. Everything has her personal touch, and nothing feels out of place. It’s crisp and clean, but it doesn’t feel stuffy. There are magnets on the fridge with papers, bills, and pictures attached, and one of those black cat clocks from the 80s by the door that leads to her backyard.

I place the bowls in the dish drainer then look down to see Herbert has decided to make figure eights between my ankles.

“What are you doing down there?”

I scoop him up in my arms and scratch his chin, which he seems to enjoy.

“Are you just checking me out? Making sure I’m good enough for your mama?”

He doesn’t answer, of course, unless you count licking his chops then wiggling his head as an answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

I shut off the light in the kitchen and head back into the living room with Herbert in my arms, and when Sawyer sees, she just scoffs.

“I don’t approve of this. He’s stealing you from me.”

She reaches over her head and pulls a blanket from the back of the sofa and tosses it out over her legs.

“What do you say, pal? I’ll put you down now so I can go make out with your mom, and then once she’s fast asleep, I’ll come find you in the cover of night, okay?” I hold him closer to my face, pretending he is answering me and then I put him on the floor. “Thanks. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You only want me for my kitty.” She wiggles her eyebrows then holds up the blanket, offering up the space next to her.

“I am fond of that kitty of yours. I haven’t spent enough time with said kitty though. We’ll have to remedy that, don’t you think?” I sink into the space beside her and tuck her into my side, pulling the blanket around us.

“You can pet my kitty anytime you want to. My kitty is your kitty.”

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