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Colton
I find Noelle in the kitchen with her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that barely looks sipped on. She hits me with a sad smile that makes my throat clench, and has me cursing my offspring once again.
I could’ve killed him for saying half the things he said to her. And frankly, I don’t believe anything that comes out of his mouth about keeping his sex life casual.
The real reason Sawyer doesn’t let women get close is because he’s afraid he’s gonna fall for someone who’ll leave him, like his mother. He’s falling hard for Noelle, if he hasn’t already. That’s why he’s doing everything he can to put distance between them.
He’s hurting her before she can hurt him. It’s why he’s taking off in his car right now, peeling down the long driveway, spitting snow behind him.
I don’t know where he’s running off to, and I honestly don’t care. Sawyer hurt the woman I care about, and he deserves to feel whatever his conscience will inevitably throw at him when he gets there.
“You okay?” I fold my arm around Noelle and kiss the top of her head. She sighs against me.
“I guess.” She goes quiet for a minute. “He quit his job so he could keep the promise he made to me. I don’t understand how he can just... Maybe he’s right. I’ve only known him a few days. I shouldn’t care if he takes a job in another state.”
“Sawyer’s been running since his feet hit the ground. He doesn’t know how to stand still. He’s trying to outrun his feelings for you, but they’re catching up to him.”
“Maybe,” she says, though her expression’s doubtful. “Look, I know you have to work today, but can I maybe come with you? I just need to get out of here for a little while.”
“Of course.” I kiss her forehead. “But only if you put on pants.”
Once she’s sufficiently bundled up, we hop in my truck and head for the woodshed. She insists on trying her hand at chopping wood, and I let her. She’s not too bad at it. A few more practice sessions and she’ll be swinging like a lumberjack.
We make deliveries, stopping at one of the cabins to fix a leaky faucet. I’m in awe, watching her make small talk with the guests that doesn’t feel small at all. She even gets a few of them to laugh.
After the firewood run, I take her to the Chinese place that’s always open on Christmas. Aside from one other couple, we’re the only ones there. I ask for a booth in the back so Noelle and I can sit beside each other.
“How’re you doing?” I ask. I’d made it a point not to talk about Sawyer for most of the afternoon, but the morning’s arguments are still clearly on her mind.
“Okay, I guess,” she says.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you Christmas-day arguments were just another Bell-family tradition?”
She chuckles. “Maybe. Are they usually that bad?”
“They can get pretty ugly. But I think it’s safe to say we set a new standard this year.”
“I can’t help feeling like it’s because I’m here.”
“Nah. Sawyer’s had this bottled up for a long time. All you did was pop the cork.”
We thank the waitress when she brings our hot-and-sour soups to the table. Noelle blows on the surface of her bowl of piping-hot broth, causing it to ripple.
I study her pouted lips, the pink in her cheeks.
“Areyouokay?” she asks.
“I’m good,” I say reflexively. To be totally fucking honest, Sawyer threw me for a loop. I knew he looked down on the simplicity of my life, but I had no idea his distaste was so deeply rooted in resentment. I never meant to make him feel like a mistake or a burden. I just wanted him to be more careful than I was.
“I know I’d be hurt by some of the harsher things he said to you,” she says.
“Youwerehurt,” I grumble, not yet ready to cut Sawyer any slack for being a prick to her.
We finish our soups just as the server returns with plates piled high with sweet-and-sour chicken, pork fried rice, and egg rolls. Noelle digs into the fried rice while I reach for the chicken.
“This is really good,” she says. “But I think we ordered too much. I’m still pretty full from breakfast.”
“We can take the rest home.” I bite into an egg roll, but all I taste is Sawyer’s glazed ham and French toast bread pudding. “For the record, I am glad Sawyer found a passion for cooking. I’ll be the first to say he’s great at it. More than great at it. He’s the best.”
