The next week passes in a beautiful blur. Sawyer and I reach new heights every day, our passion for one another growing with every exchange.

We get groceries and make breakfasts that stretch until the afternoon. Bacon and eggs with a side of sex never tasted so damn good. And to distract ourselves from the nail-biting wait to hear back from Teddy, Sawyer and I use Dusty’s laptop to search for potential places we might want to go. Places where we could start a new life undercover. It’s hard to decide anything concretely, though; my mind is always on my mom. Worried and wondering, but at the same time anxious to know that she is alive and well. I’ll send her the money I’ve saved as soon I know where she is.

Sawyer sees my stress, and I know he has carried fear ever since his best friend came to the bar. We know we can’t stay in this town forever. Hell, Cal and Jules could return any moment. And what then? We can’t constantly be hiding. We need to start over somewhere with freedom. Somewhere far, far away.

My body has memorized Sawyer’s, and when he pulls me against him in the middle of the night, his hard cock grinding against my pussy, I give him what he desires; what I crave. And when he’s in the shower in the middle of the afternoon, there’s nothing that stops me from reaching for the shower curtain, stepping inside, and dropping to my knees. I suck him off, my mouth full with his length, and I let his salty come slide down my throat.

I swear when his seed fills my belly, a warmth spreads throughout me, making me whole. We may be hiding out in the middle of nowhere, but we are growing closer each day. The idea of the world driving us into one another’s arms shows— us that needing another person isn’t weak. In fact, it makes us stronger than we ever could have been alone.

Together, we seem to go further than either of us would be able to go on our own, and he reminds me on a daily basis, how beautiful it is to be touched and felt and held by him. The man who sees me as more than I have ever seen myself.

We haven’t left the cottage or bar in what feels like forever, and so one bright morning, when Sawyer asks if I’d like to go with him into town to find a bookstore, I agree.

“You aren’t nervous about being recognized?”

Sawyer shakes his head, pulling on his ball cap. “Nah, we’re good. I’ll keep my head low and my eyes on you. I’m getting a little stir crazy in here all day, everyday.”

In his Chevy, I take his hand, loving the way even a regular outing with Sawyer feels like a gift. When I spend time with him, I feel more relaxed than I ever have before.

He catches me smiling at him. “What has you in such a good mood?” he asks.

“I’m just really happy.” The answer is simple, but it’s the truth. Being with him is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.

Later, after Sawyer has got himself a stack of books fifteen volumes high, I ask what we should do next.

“Let me drop these in the car, then we can walk around Main Street?”

“Sounds good,” I say, watching him return his heavy bag to the car, my eyes on his perfect ass the entire time, but his pants are too loose. I need a better view. “You know,” I say when he returns. “I think you need some new jeans.”

“What’s wrong with these?”

“They aren’t tight enough.”

He scowls. “What did you have in mind?”

“Seeing as we are in farm country, I think you need some Wranglers, and maybe some cowboy boots.”

He laughs, shaking his head at me like I’m a fool.

“I mean it. I want to see you in some tight ass jeans, mister.”

He rolls his eyes, but when I smack his ass, and lead him down the street to the clothing store I saw on our way into town, he follows.

“No way,” he says when we enter the shop filled with cowboy hats and boots in every color.

“Yes, way,” I say, leading him to a display of jeans. “These ones look about right.” I hold up a pair of narrow jeans, and I can just imagine him in them, without a shirt. I’m wet just thinking about it. “Just try them on.”

He obliges, and a sales clerk comes over to help just as he has left for a changing room in the far back corner of the store. “I think I got this,” I tell her, knowing Sawyer would hate an audience. “But thanks.”

She returns to the front of the store where she’s unpacking a dozen boxes of new inventory.

I go to check on him, and he talks through the curtain. “No way, Sadie. These are way too––”

I don’t let him finish. I pull back the curtain and step in side.

Oh, hot damn. I’ve been looking at his naked body for weeks now, but still, when I see him in these tight-ass jeans, showing off his perfectly formed ass, revealing a hefty bulge in the groin, I want to devour him right here, right now.

“You look delicious,” I tell him. “I could eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Sawyer raises an eyebrow, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Oh, yeah, exactly how hungry are you right now?”

I lick my lips. “There’s an old lady working about thirty feet away.”

“And?”

I laugh, and then cover my mouth, trying to muffle the noise.

Sawyer is hard as a rock; I feel his cock against my belly. I can’t resist the temptation. I lower myself to my knees, and my fingers undo his fly.

I pull the sexy jeans down, his boxers too, and what I find is nothing short of a meal made for one.

My tongue rolls around his tasty tip, and I tease him by licking slowly up and down the length of his shaft.

“Damn, woman,” he mutters under his breath, his hands running through my long hair.

I know we can’t draw this out too long or the shopkeeper will come asking if we need any help.

And we certainly have this under control on our own.

I take all of him at once, my mouth filled with his huge cock, and he pulls my head against him. I love it when his length hits the back of my throat, when he thrusts hard against me, taking my breath away. My hands are on his gorgeous ass cheeks as I move my head faster and faster.

My lips seal tight against his shaft, wanting him to come in me hard, suddenly desperate to taste his cream in my mouth. Wanting my belly to be full of his release.

I want to moan against him, but I do my best to suck him off soundlessly. He moves hard against me, pulling my hair in a way that makes me feel wanted and needed.

And when he comes in my mouth, I can’t help but drink him up, savoring every last drop.

He helps me stand, and I lick my lips, my cheeks hot and my pussy soaked.

“Sawyer, you are getting those pants. Understood?”

He grins, stepping out of them and handing them to me.

“At this point, baby, I’ll do anything you say.”

“In that case, I insist we get matching cowboy boots.”

Sawyer shakes his head at me. “Girl, I think you’re the only person in the world who could get me in a pair of those.”

Thirty minutes later, we walk back to his car, our hands tucked in the back pockets of one another’s jeans.

There is no denying the truth.

We fit together, and we look good. After all, we’re both rocking bright red boots.

* * *

When I get off my shift, late one night, I find Sawyer bent out of shape—pacing and drinking from a bottle of whiskey.

“What is it?” I ask, dropping my purse on the chair after pulling out my tips. I can’t count them now though. Sawyer’s a train wreck. I’ve never seen him this way. “What’s going on?” I ask again.

“Just read it,” he says. “Read this fucking article.” He points to the open laptop on the kitchen table. I sit down to look at what he’s trying to show me.

“What’s upset you so much?” I ask, waiting for the browser to load.

But he doesn’t answer because the web page fills the screen and I see what he’s talking about.

I look up at Sawyer, shocked at this story.

“Click there,” he says, pointing to a link. When I do, I see his parents with his fake girlfriend Sondra. “Those are the models signed with Juliana.” The photograph shows them watching as Levi Malone punches Danny Bruneau.

“What a motherfucker, I’d never guessed he would have been behind this. You can’t fucking trust anyone,” Sawyer says. “No one at all.”

I bite my bottom lip, feeling like a fool. Because I do trust Sawyer, but his words tell me he will never truly trust me. He won’t trust anyone ever again, not after this betrayal.

“I didn’t even remember that the movie fucking premiered yesterday. Can you believe that? I’m so fucking out of touch with life—” He runs his hand over his jaw. “But it isn’t my life anymore,” he adds, pressing his palms to his forehead. “I gave up my life. I fucking gave it all up.” His words are raw and he’s a jagged edge of emotion I don’t know if I want to soften.

Isn’t it his story? He can be mad about the choices he made. If he wants to be angry, let him be. If he wants to break, there’s no doubt in my mind that eventually, he will pick himself back up again.

But as his arms wrap around me and I wrap mine around him, I know he isn’t going to shatter. He’s sad and confused. Tormented even, but he hasn’t lost his center. He holds onto me and I cling to him and he is still standing.

We are both still standing.

Truth is, his anger and drinking don’t push me away—.I know it isn’t who he is at his core. And even if he says he can’t trust anyone, I don’t believe him. Because right now, he could leave this cottage and go live a life that has nothing to do with me.

But he isn’t going anywhere.

He may have run away from his life before, but he isn’t running from me.

“Sadie, it’s all a fucking mess. I should’ve just stayed and told Cal the fucking truth.”

I look up at him. “Told him what? I don’t understand.”

“It doesn’t matter. I made my choice, I died. I don’t regret it because it means I found you. But fucking Danny Bruneau did this to me. His choices fucking pushed me over the edge.”

I shake my head, now I’m the one who is angry. “You wanted to go over the edge, Sawyer. You were looking for a reason to disappear. You didn’t want the life you had, you wanted more. Or at least something different. You have that now. Don’t go backwards.” My eyes stay locked on his. “Don’t go back. Stay where you are. Let’s go forward together.”

There are tears in his eyes, and tears in mine and I hate that he’s hurting, but I’m not going to stand here and listen to him tell me he regrets everything because he is upset right now.

That’s not fair to either of us.

“How are you always so fucking strong, Sadie?” He shakes his head. “Right now, I’m the weakest I’ve ever been in my life. I hate that you’re seeing me this way. I want you to see me as a strong man; a man who has his shit together. Instead of a fucking drunk in the middle of the night. I want to be more for you. But right now, it’s fucking hard to know what more is.” He wipes my tears away with his thumb and I breathe him in.

He is wrong about what strength is and what weakness is.

A real man can admit his faults, and his fears. A real man knows the power of words and the power of keeping someone by your side as you walk through your pain.

But I need to know if I am the person he wants to let in.

“It’s okay, Sawyer. Nobody knows what they want all the time. Life is about figuring it out one day at a time. All I need to know from you is, do you want to figure it out with me? Do you want me by your side when you go down this road? If you don’t want me, just tell me now. Let me walk away with dignity. Because when you talk like this, it makes me wonder if what you feel isn’t the same as what I feel.”

Sawyer drops to his knees, his arms wrapping around my waist. He looks at me and his eyes say everything. They are deep and dark, but they are on me.

Me.

He is holding on, to me.

I never expected to find a man like this, especially not a man like Sawyer. A man who’s graced movie screens and magazine covers. A man who could have anyone, anywhere.

But here he is.

Here.

“I love you, Sadie. I don’t fucking know what’s gonna happen, and I hate that I can’t be sure. But my love for you is the one thing I am certain about. I wish I were a better man for you, a stronger man, but here I am, telling you that my heart is yours.”

I kiss him hard, salty tears streaming down my cheeks and the air around us still.

“Don’t cry, Sadie.”

“Dammit, Sawyer. The words you just said, I’ve never heard words like that in my life. I don’t know a lot, never went to college,,. I barely finished high school. I worked at a laundromat and could rarely pay all the bills on time, and I killed a man. What do I have to offer anyone? What do I have to offer you?”

“I don’t need anything but your love, Sadie. That’s all I want from you. You saw me at my lowest, yet you love me the deepest.”

Those words slay me in the most beautiful way. They are words that erase my fears and give me the grace to accept the love he has to give.

To accept him for all that he is and all he may become.

“I love you, Sadie. I love you.” He repeats it as if he knows I need to hear those words more.

Forever.

Now.

“I love too,” I tell him. “I love you so hard, Sawyer Bennett.” He brushes the last of my tears away and kisses my cheeks, refusing to let go of my body.

Our love story has been an isolated mess of a story, but it is our love story.

Maybe we needed the last few weeks alone, with no one else attempting to burst our bubble, so we would feel safe enough give one another what we so achingly dreamed of: acceptance.

We fall asleep in a tangle of professed love, believing in the power of what we’ve found.

So, when we’re greeted with a loud knock on the door a few hours later, with the early morning dawn barely breaking through, I sit up with a jolt, shocked at being taken away from my bliss.

Dusty calls out, knocking again, “Sadie, you need to open up, now.”

“What is it?” I say scrambling from the bed and grabbing a tank top and pulling on a pair of shorts. In bare feet, I pull open the door. “What’s happening?”

“Sadie, your mama’s here.”