Page 37 of Make Me Yours
For a moment, the air between us loosened. We ate in a quiet expectant silence—forks scraping plates, crispy bacon crunching as we ate, the rhythmic thump of Sunny’s tail against the floor. The sun slanted through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on him that made the moment feel almost… domestic.
Too domestic.
It hit me how natural it all felt—how wrong that was for two people still calling whatever this wasprivate.I told myself I was imagining it, that the silence was comfortable, but it wasn’t. It was full.
Sawyer glanced up from his plate, his gaze steady. We both knew why he was here; it had nothing to do with breakfast.
The word “talk” hung between us like a live wire that neither of us wanted to touch first.
Sawyer was the first to break the silence. He set his fork down and leaned back in the chair, eyes still on me. “So,” he said casually, “how’d it go with your doctor? You get the prescription?”
The question landed harder than he probably meant it to. I smoothed my apron with shaky hands. “He got called out to deliver a baby,” I said, keeping my tone light. “I had to reschedule.”
His mouth twitched, almost a smile. “So no prescription yet?”
I shook my head and focused on cutting another bite of pancake I had no intention of eating.
He crossed his arms, the movement easy and deliberate, a faint grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Guess that means we’re on pause for the bareback rides then.”
I nearly choked on my coffee. “I guess so.”
He laughed quietly, that deep, rumbling sound that always did things to my pulse. But the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t completely joking.
“Just saying,” he murmured, voice dropping low, “next time, I’d rather not need a barrier between us.”
I froze, the coffee cup still halfway to my lips. He said it like it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing—not to me.
That kind of closeness wasn’t what scared me—I was the one who’d brought it up first and started thinking about what it would be like without anything between us. What scared me was what it meant now. Somewhere between the jokes and the heat, it had stopped being just physical. And if I wasn’t careful, I was going to want more from him than he could give.
I set my cup down and managed a weak laugh. “You don’t quit, do you?”
He smiled, slow and steady. “Not my style.”
The warmth in his voice tangled with the warning bells in my head. I told myself I’d think about it later, that we’d keep things simple, keep them safe.
But deep down, I knew there was no going back to simple.
I drew in a shaky breath, tracing the rim of my coffee cup with my thumb. “It’s not just the prescription,” I admitted quietly. “I’m… late.”
Sawyer’s chair creaked as he leaned forward, the easy humor draining from his face. “How late?”
“A few weeks,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Could be stress, could be nothing—but I can’t stop thinking about it. I already took one test, and it was negative.”
He was silent for a moment, eyes steady on mine. Then he nodded once, slow and sure.
“Let’s do another one. We’ll go get it right now.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Finish your coffee,” he said, pushing his chair back. “We’ll drive to town.”
I shook my head, trying to laugh it off. “I can do it myself.”
“Not the point.” His gaze found mine—calm, certain, unflinching. “I’ll drive. You shouldn’t have to overthink it alone.”
That single word—alone—landed somewhere I didn’t expect it to. The steadiness in his voice made my chest clench. He was so sure, so composed, like he could fix anything if he just followed a plan.
That’s what he does,I thought.Takes charge. Stays calm. Like everything in life is a mission with a checklist.
