Page 50 of Make Me Yours
I smirked, straightening up. “They both require aim and patience to work right. I’m just branching out.”
He laughed. “Looks good on you. And that van—I suppose you bought it for her.”
“Figured she needed something reliable.”
“Reliable?” Rhett’s brows lifted. “That thing’s got heated seats, Sawyer.”
“Hey, if I’m gonna spoil her, might as well do it right.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re full of surprises lately.”
Before I could answer, Callie swept up beside him in a blue sundress that made Rhett look like he’d overdressed for church. She gave me that knowing grin I’d come to expect.
“It’s about time, Sawyer. You think you’ve been fooling anyone?”
I arched a brow. “About what?”
“Oh, please. Half the town’s been talking for weeks. You and Lilly, the flowers, the van, the way you look at her like she hung the moon. We were just waiting for you to stop pretending it’s casual.”
I tried not to grin. “Guess I’m not much good at pretending.”
Callie patted my arm. “Good. Because it suits you, being happy.”
That word stuck with me long after they wandered off.Happy.It had been a long damn time since anyone used that word about me—and meant it.
When guests arrived, the yard was filled with chatter and the smell of fresh-cut blooms. I helped Millie straighten a few rows, then joined Lilly near the back. She grinned and laid her head on my shoulder.
“You set up all the chairs yourself?”
“Mostly. Rhett helped for about thirty seconds before he wandered off to find the beer.”
Her laugh was soft, and her eyes crinkled at the corners. “You didn’t have to do all that.”
“You know better. You know I wanted to.”
Something about the way she looked at me then—half tender, half amused—made me want to kiss her right there in front of everyone. But I settled for brushing my thumb along her wrist. “You okay?”
“Just warm,” she said, touching her middle briefly before smoothing her skirt. “And a little nervous. Weddings always get to me.”
“Good thing you’re not the one walking down the aisle.”
As I pulled our chairs reserved for Lilly and me closer, she smiled, but her hand lingered on her stomach. I followed her gaze, that same protective feeling swelling in my chest.
Folks nodded or waved as they passed us—neighbors, friends, people who’d once kept their distance from the weird guy with PTSD out at Lucky Ranch. Now they stopped to say hi, and half of them looked at Lilly like she’d tamed a wild thing.
Maybe she had.
That’s when Marianne Carter sidled up beside Lilly, the way only Marianne could—grinning like she already knew the punchline. She lowered her voice, though not nearly enough to keep anyone from overhearing. “Did you really think you could keep that thing you’ve had going with Sawyer all this time a secret?”
Lilly’s cheeks went pink, and she laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Guess not.”
Marianne winked. “Honey, this is Lovelace. Secrets don’t last longer than a pot of coffee around here.”
Lilly blushed deeper, and I couldn’t help but smile, watching her try to hide it.
“We had our reasons, Marianne,” I explained.
“Doesn’t everyone, Sawyer?” Marianne winked and wandered toward her seat.
