Page 61 of Sawyer

“Junie!”

We all look up at the shout from the parking lot. Everything inside me heaves when I see a familiar figure—twofamiliar figures—heading our way.

Sawyer looks pleasantly surprised as he raises a hand in greeting.

It’s all I can do not to slam my palm against my head.Duh. Of course his daughter goes to this preschool. It’s the only one in the area.

Of course he’d show up right when I do. Barely a minute’s difference. My stomach flips again, for a different reason this time. I’m not sure I believe in fate. But if I did, I’d think it was telling me something. This is the third time I’ve randomly run into Sawyer Rivers. Maybe it’s not so random anymore.

I like that idea. I like it a lot more than I should. Maybe because I’m hit by a wave of something like … relief. I don’t know Sawyer or Ella well, but they’re not total strangers. Seeing some familiar faces in such an unfamiliar place is comforting.

“Junie! Hi!” Ella comes running, her pigtails bouncing.

“Mommy!” June jumps up, releasing her hold on me. “Mommy, it’s Yella!”

Laughing, I blink when a tear slips out of my eye. “I think you mean Ella.”

Ella drops her tote bag and collides with June, the two of them wrapping each other in a fierce hug like they haven’t seen each other in years.

“I like your braid.” Ella runs her hand over Junie’s hair.

Junie giggles. “Thanks. My mom did it.”

Sawyer’s deep, rumbling laugh sends a delicious shiver up my spine. “You gotta stop followin’ me around, Ava.”

I try not to stare as he stops a few feet away and tucks his hands into the pockets of his vest. Not an easy task, considering how hot he looks.

But really, how does he look this good this early? I feel like I’ve been run through a blender, and I’m sure I look like it too. Truth be told, I can’t remember if I brushed my teeth.

Please, God, let me have brushed my teeth.

“Technically, you’re the one who showed up after me.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Doesn’t that make you the follower?”

The side of his mouth kicks up. “Guess it does, yeah.”

Sawyer is in jeans and cowboy boots. He fills out the denim button-up underneath his vest to perfection, his shoulders and arms looking especially broad limned in the bright morning light.

He’s wearing that fucking backward hat again, his dark hair curling out from underneath it. And his scruff, the mustache, the dimples?—

I am a dead woman.

Even Ms. Sherman is blushing when she waves at him. “Morning, Sawyer. Y’all know each other?”

“We sure do. These turkeys”—he nods at the girls—“were tearin’ a rug at the Wallaces’ barn raising this weekend.”

“How fun! I’m so glad June already has a friend on her first day.”

Sawyer’s blue eyes meet mine. “We feeling some nerves this morning?”

He’s obviously asking about Junie. But the way he looks at me—the soft, knowing gleam in his eyes—makes me think he’s asking about me too.

“Some, yeah.” My voice wobbles.

His kindness is making it harder to fight the tears.

The skin around Sawyer’s eyes crinkles. “It only gets easier from here, I promise. No one knows that better than me.”

Ms. Sherman laughs. “It’s true. Ella had a rather lengthy adjustment period this year.”

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