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Her hand moved to caress my cheek, her touch calming the storm within me. "Change is always scary, but incredible things can happen when we step out of our comfort zones. I learned that myself when I moved here."
I smiled, grateful she'd taken that leap.
"I believe in you, Sawyer."
"You have no idea how much that means to me."
Our conversation flowed like the tide, back and forth, revealing dreams and digging up insecurities. And with each ebb and flow, I felt something shift inside me—a connection strengthening, an intimacy growing beyond the physical.
“Have you ever been in love, Sawyer? Before me?” she asked, a hint of vulnerability in her gaze.
“Never,” I confessed, and it was the truth. I’d cared for women, sure. But love? That was uncharted territory. Yet as I looked into Hannah’s eyes, I knew I had crossed some invisible line. “You’re the first, and I’d like you to be the only.”
Her smile faltered, a flicker of doubt passing over her features. “You mean that?”
“Every word,” I said firmly. “I don’t throw around words like ‘love’ lightly. But with you...” I paused, searching for the words. “With you, it’s like I’ve found what I didn’t even know I was missing.”
She let out a soft laugh, the sound mingling with the morning light. “Sawyer Banks, are you getting sentimental on me?”
“Only for you, Hannah. Only for you.” And I meant it. There was no fear in admitting it—not anymore. The thought of her not being mine was unimaginable.
“Good,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss me, slow and deep, sealing the silent vow that was forming between us.
“Promise me something,” Hannah said suddenly, her hand splayed across my heart.
“Anything,” I replied, meaning it.
“Promise me we’ll keep talking like this—open and honest. No matter what happens.”
“Cross my heart,” I said, capturing her hand and pressing it firmly to my chest. “Now come here.”
And as I pulled her closer, the rest of the world faded away, leaving just the two of us and the quiet promise of the day ahead.
twenty
HANNAH
The scrub sink’srhythmic hiss lulled me into a momentary calm. Animal Control had just brought in an injured dog, and I was prepping for a surgery I wasn’t convinced he’d live through. But as I started to scrub my hands, the door swung open, and in walked a man carrying a collar in his callused hands. His face was etched with worry, deep lines framing a mouth that seemed unused to frowning.
“Doc,” he said, voice gruff like gravel on a backcountry road, “they said you’re treating Bear. He’s my boy. Got attacked by a damn coyote last night.”
I glanced at the choke collar, then at him—Doug Samuels, known more for his solitary nature than any fondness for small talk. I’d seen him around town, always at a distance. My gut twisted, not just from the image of the mangled dog, but from those weathered eyes now searching mine for hope. I dried my hands and escorted the man back to the waiting area.
“Mr. Samuels,” I began, keeping my tone neutral despite the pang of skepticism that hit me like an unexpected wave. “Coyotes attacks are rare around here. And from the size of Bear, and the extent of his injuries, I’m convinced that it was something else.”
“Nah, no way,” he interjected quickly, almost defensively. “I know what I saw, Doc. It was a coyote, alright.”
“Alright, sir,” I conceded, not wanting to rile him further. “Can you tell me about Bear’s whereabouts before the incident?”
He shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his tousled hair. “He was out back, near the woods. I heard growling and barking, and by the time I got there, this...thing was on him.”
“Did you see the attack happen?” I asked, trying to gauge how much of his story was witnessed versus assumed.
“Caught the tail end of it,” he admitted, his gaze flickering away briefly before locking back onto mine. “Bear’s tough, though. Aren’t you gonna be able to fix him up?”
“Doing everything I can,” I reassured him, though the wave of uncertainty within me wasn’t easily quelled. “It’ll help to know exactly what happened, to give him the best treatment, and prevent future incidents.”
“Right,” Doug said, rubbing the gray stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “Guess I’ll need to keep a closer eye on him.”
