Page 72 of Infinite as They Come
He nodded, grabbing one of my chips and pushing it into the salsa. “Yeah, baby, everything’s fine.”
I nodded, still not quite believing him but not sure what else to think, because Sawyer wasn’t a liar. He was anythingbutthat, so I just changed the topic. “I stole one of your chicken wings, by the way.”
“Little thief over here, huh?” He grabbed another one, hovering it above my plate. “You want some more?”
“One’s enough.” I didn’t want to put a damper on the night. He had been out all day—doing something, doingstuff—and I finally got the chance to look at him. There was something behind his eyes that made them look a little brighter. Excitement, maybe? “So, what’s with this Bartlett place?”
He gave me a nod, straightening up in his seat a little. “I can’t wait to show it to you.”
“What’s so good about it?”
“It’s… just the kind of place I think you’ll like.”
“So, we can spend the day together?” I asked, and I hated how desperate it sounded when I said the words out loud.
“Yeah, sweetheart, we’ll spend the day together. And you can tell me what you think of the place, right?”
I slid another chip into the salsa. “Why do you care what I think?”
“Well, I want you to like it.”
“Because?”
His lips parted before he just gave me a shrug. “I just do.”
Munching on the chip, I kept my frown to myself. He was being weird and closed off and the last thing I wanted to do was push him, so I decidedto just leave it as it was. We were together, and we’d be together tomorrow, and that was all that mattered.
Chapter 19
Holly
Sawyer had kept his promise. The next day, we were in Bartlett. Fingers interlocked, we moved down the main street, the air fresh and the roads quiet and just that perfect hint of heat in the breeze. Someone was baking fresh bread, that alluring scent there all around me. It was comforting. The kind of place both me and Sawyer would usually like, but my mind kept going back in time.
The morning had been a little strange, and I was doing my best not to think about that too much. How Sawyer once again rushed out of the room when he got a call and how he looked like he didn’t want me to hear a single word he was saying. It wasn’t just that, though. It was him at the diner last night being all weird. Him leaving for hours, sometimes the whole day, only for him to come back to the motel and shrug and say he just got a little busy. Him being secretive, and me with a brain that wouldn’t stop me from wondering what on earth he was up to.
I wanted to focus on the moment and the fact that we were together. I wastryingto, but that nervous feeling had a way of sneaking up on me whenever I felt the slightest bit at ease. It forced me to squeeze his hand a little tighter, his head turning my way.
“You okay, honey?” he asked.
Forcing a smile, I nodded. It was me being panicky and not being able to live in the moment, because here I was, side by side with the boy I loved so much, and I was busy thinking about a stupid phone call.
“I’m fine,” I said, letting my eyes scan the street we were on. It had all of that old school charm with tiny cafés and buildings from way back when. We had been walking around for a little while now. For such a small town, there was a lot to see. I nodded to his side, using the antique store we had passed as an excuse. It had a whole heap of those old vintage dolls that always looked ready to come alive and kill you in the display window. “Those dolls are just freaking me out.”
“Huh?” Following my gaze, Sawyer whistled. “One of them looks like you. Let’s buy it.”
“It’s gonna strangle us. Or possess us. Or both.”
“Exactly like you.”
I snorted, tucking my face into his neck. “Don’t bully me.”
Arm wrapped around my shoulder, he pulled me into him, placing a slow kiss to the top of my head. It was easy enough to forget all that tension and worry and confusion over the last month. Sawyer had a way of pushing away all of my stress, and I was certain he was the only one who could ever do that. There was just something about the way he held me and kept me close and steady against him that always had me melting.
We kept walking around, all pressed together as we moved through the street, the quietness of the town and Sawyer’s presence settling any and all nerves. We found some little farmer’s market that was selling fresh lemonade and Sawyer bought me a cup, letting me sip on the overly sweet drink as the sun just got hotter.
“This tastes awful,” I mumbled. “I can’t stop drinking it, though. What does that say about me?”
Sawyer made a noise. Something between a half mumble, half groan.
