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“—but I’m confident we can have them up to par soon. And if not, we can look to hiring others. I think Luce deserves a shot. And you deserve the next step.”
There was another reason too. One I couldn’t tell Landry about. One that knotted my stomach every time I thought of taking a promotion. Of committing myself here long term. But I pushed that unease down, focusing on Landry.
“Think it over.” She nodded slowly. “You deserve this, Sawyer. I know you’ll make the right call.”
With that, she strode from the office, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sighed, bracing myself for the biggest decision I would make in years.
* * *
By the time I left the Anchorage, my mind had been playing a game of ping pong. One moment thinking of Landry’s offer—and all the good and bad that came with it—and the next, a different blonde would appear at the forefront of my thoughts.
Hannah was a whirlwind. A fucking adorable one. And I had no time or energy to let myself get caught up in one. But I couldn’t stop the memory of how her body felt up against mine.
I hadn’t even cared one bit that she’d puked right after. But I also knew nothing could, or would, come from that little interaction. She was cute. Okay, she was gorgeous, even post-throw up. But I didn’t know anything about her, and it probably needed to stay that way.
I had too much shit going on to get involved with anyone, and choosing someone literally in my backyard was probably the dumbest thing I could do.
The night outside our homes was serene and unsettlingly quiet. The moon was high, a silver coin tossed carelessly into an ink-black sky, and it was way past the witching hour when most of the small town was already lost to dreams. I let myself in as quietly as I could, knowing she’d be asleep. I made my way back to her bedroom and found the door wide open.
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath, my gaze sweeping over the room—a sea of tranquility where Hannah lay sleeping, her chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. The silence was almost tangible, wrapping around me like a blanket, too thick, too still.
The cottage seemed to hold its breath along with her, a cozy little sanctuary nestled on the outskirts where the ocean whispered secrets to the shore. I never had much patience for quiet—it had a way of making me antsy—but there was something about this hush that settled on my skin.
I exhaled softly, and walked back to the main living area, chastising myself for the strange urge to fix things out of place. The living room looked lived-in, which wasn’t a crime, but the perfectionist in me itched to tidy up. I knew that Hannah wasn’t supposed to move around much, and some kind of force inside me was screaming at me to do this for her. That it would make a difference.
“Focus,” I whispered, steeling myself against the unwanted pull of my thoughts toward her. I moved quietly through the space, picking up a few scattered magazines, straightening cushions that didn’t really need straightening.
A throw pillow had made its escape from the couch, lying abandoned on the rug. I couldn’t help but chuckle; the place was a reflection of Hannah herself—mostly put together, with a few charming missteps. Taking care of those missteps was a way to keep my hands busy, to stop them from trembling with the inexplicable mix of desire and protectiveness that surged through me.
I gathered the trash, mostly takeaway containers that told stories of meals eaten alone. They must have come from Alex. I knew Hannah had been working overtime to get the clinic ready. Probably didn’t have the time to cook, and now she wasn’t supposed to until she healed up. I made a mental note to maybe bring her dinner sometime—just to be neighborly.
Taking the trash out, I let the screen door close behind me with a soft click, careful not to wake her. The ocean air hit me then, briny and brisk, filling my lungs and clearing my head. I paused, staring out into the dark where the waves must be cresting and falling, unseen but ever present, like this gnawing feeling inside me.
Christ, when did you become such a sap?I scoffed at myself, tossing the trash into the bin. I’d have to leave soon, get back to my own place across the lawn; staying would be crossing some invisible line I wasn’t sure I wanted to cross. Not yet.
But damn, there was something about Hannah Wilson, with her clumsy charm and green eyes that seemed to see right through the bullshit. She made me want to stick around, maybe even long enough to figure out why the thought of leaving her side felt like swimming away from the shore into darker waters.
I walked back inside, restless, scrubbing a hand down my face. It wasn’t like me to fall, especially not this fast. Not for someone who probably thought my tattoos were a roadmap of bad decisions, or that my bike was just a noisy piece of metal.
Back in her room, the moonlight seeped through the gauzy curtains, casting a silver glow over Hannah’s sleeping form. She lay there, one arm now flung above her head, looking every bit like a serene angel lost in dreams. I paced a few steps, feeling the tug-of-war inside me; the urge to stay and watch over her versus the voice that told me to get out before I got in too deep. Finally allowing myself one last look at her angelic face, I turned and strode through the house, not stopping until I reached my own door.
five
HANNAH
A few days later,a sharp rap on the cottage door startled me from my thoughts as I laid on the sofa watching trashy reality TV. “Come in!”
The door creaked open, and Alex poked her head in with a smile. “How’s my favorite invalid doing today?”
“Ugh, don’t call me that.” I laughed, tossing the TV remote aside and sat up with a wince. My head still throbbed dully from the accident, the bump on the back of my head now the size of a goose egg. “I’m going stir crazy stuck in here all day.”
After the tripping incident, I’d called Dr. Espinosa and told him what had happened, leaving out some of the more embarrassing details. He was not amused. I had earned myself an extra week of bed rest.
But one good thing to come from this was developing a nice rhythm with the only two people I got to interact with. Sawyer had been coming by every morning and night. And despite my better judgment, I couldn’t help but internally squeal anytime he did something kind or sweet for me. I was starting to concern myself.
Alex came over and gave me a gentle hug, bringing me back to the present. “I know, sweetie. The doc says you need to take it easy for a few more days. You’re looking better, though. Your face has a little color to it, at least.”
“I feel better, just bored. Want to watch some bad daytime TV?” I asked hopefully. Alex laughed and settled onto the sofa beside me.
