I manage a smile this time as he nears my street. “Trust? What even is that?”
He smirks. “No idea. I think it’s a thing some people do when they’re in a—involved,” he says, correcting himself before he says too much.
Because we aren’t in a relationship. We’re simply getting the sex out of our systems. Sneaking around. Enjoying a delicious secret like we share the Sam Silversmith one.
“I’ve heard that it’s this big hurdle that some people are able to get over, but I don’t know how that would work,” I say dryly.
“Don’t ask me,” he says as he reaches my home and pulls intothe driveway, then parks next to Roxie and turns off his car. After he blows out a heavy breath, he says, “Katya would say her cheating was my fault. She told me she felt alone when she was with me. That was a bitter pill to swallow.”
I grimace, my heart hurting for him. “I’m sorry. But for what it’s worth, I’m sure she’s wrong. I never feel that way with you.”
He gives me a small, soft smile that melts my insides. “Good. You shouldn’t.” But he follows it with a sigh, scrubbing a hand across his jaw. “I thought it was all going to work out with her. And then…it all fell apart.”
I wish I could take the pain away. “I’m sorry, Sawyer. I wish it didn’t still hurt.”
He snaps his gaze to me. “It doesn’t. Still hurt, that is. Truly,” he says, holding my gaze, like it’s vital for me to know this. And something in the way he says it makes me soften even more for him.
“I’m glad it doesn’t,” I say quietly.
“But it’s still there, even if it doesn’t hurt. Know what I mean?”
Oh hell do I. “It’s that way with me and August. It’s in the past, but the memory of the mistake doesn’t disappear even when you get over them.”
“Exactly,” he says, then runs his palm down my thigh. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I hesitate, then add, “I don’t know why I asked if you were into my dog.”
“You do know. Because we both don’t want to make mistakes again,” he says, remarkably vulnerable, opening up as we talk about how hard it is to open up.
“I do. I don’t trust…myself,” I admit. “I’ve been working so hard to become someone. To pay my bills. To have a business. To not struggle with money. I don’t want to mess that all up.”
“I hear you. I don’t want you to either. I want to see you thrive,” he says, and dammit. My heart goes squishy all over again. He lifts his hand and cups my cheek, running his thumb down my jawline. His touch is warm, and I lean into it, closing my eyes for a few seconds to just enjoy the moment.
When I open them again, he says, “But coming to see me tonight? That’s a good idea. I promise.”
“I have no doubt,” I say, then I kiss him, feeling connected to him in a whole new way.
But also knowing nothing will likely come of it.
* * *
Later that day, after I finish sending out training reports for clients, I slip out to meet my friends.
Bridget invited Ripley and me to come by her inn today—she’s been wanting to show us something. That’s all she’s said.Something.
I pop out of Dog Tails, telling myself not to wave goodbye to Sawyer on the way out. I don’t want to be too obvious at work. I head down a few blocks to The BookHouse, where I find Ripley locking up her purple bike outside the inn, the basket filled with bouquets of lavender she’s dropping around town as part of her regular deliveries.
“A farmer’s work is never done,” I say.
“Truth,” she says, then nods to me. “Or a dog trainer’s. Howwas the shoot? How’s everything? I feel like it’s been forever since I saw you.”
“I know. I’m not okay with that!” I throw my arms around her, and I’m about to blurt out that I’m seeing Sawyer tonight, but I’d better save that for both my besties. But there’s hardly any time for gabbing since Bridget pops out of the hotel’s entryway seconds later and waves to us, then beckons us inside.
Anyway, I want to focus on her and the secret she said she wants to unveil. Hersomething.
“You know those renovations we’ve been working on for the last few months?” she asks, speaking even faster than usual.
“Yes,” we say in unison.
