“Sure.” I know other words. I can’t think of them, but I must know other words. I reach for the doorknob.One last chance, Sawyer.“Well, bye.”
“Bye.”
I let myself out and escape, heading for the trail back to camp as fast as I can without running in case Sawyer is watching me. But based on his laidback dismissal, I doubt he is.
I pick up to a jog when I hit the trail and keep it up until the halfway point where I come to a dead stop.
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
I am so stupid. I couldn’t have done a worse job of making Sawyer feel like I didn’t listen to him at all.
Tabitha, Tabitha, Tabitha. YOU IDIOT.
I turn and run back toward Sawyer’s even faster than I ran away, arriving on his porch, a panting, sweaty mess. But I knock anyway.
He opens and worry lines crinkle around his eyes as I manage to wheeze a “Hey” after my sprint.
“Hey. Uh, what are you…”
“I had the wrong information when I asked you about those three dates earlier. I meant to say they would be in Creekville, all day tomorrow, doing all of our town’s ridiculous traditions, and stuffed to the gills with my family and everyone who could possibly tell you embarrassing stories about my childhood, from shopkeepers to my Sunday School teacher. They will be intrusive, nosy, and offer lots of unsolicited opinions.”
He leans against the doorway, smiling.
“Does that sweeten the pot at all?” I ask.
He gives a quiet laugh. “Yeah. A lot. Sure, Tabitha. I’ll go on three dates with you tomorrow in Creekville, then I’ll kiss you until your lips go numb, and we can decide if we’re getting married.”
Now it’s my turn for my mouth to fall slightly open. “I don’t know if—”
“Great plan, Tab. Text me the address. See you tomorrow.” And he closes the door while I gape like a lake trout.
Chapter 30
Atnineo’clockthenext morning, Sawyer walks into Bixby’s looking like the posterchild for Hilton Head hotties, a light pink linen button-down hanging open over a white cotton T-shirt worn tucked into black shorts. He’s completed the outfit with slip-on Sperrys, and my heart pitter-patters.
Some women might like a bad boy, but I’ve always had a weak spot for a well-dressed Southern gentleman, and Sawyer’s East Coast beach aesthetic is the same vibe. I kinda want to fan my face, but instead I stand and wave him over to my table for two.
“Welcome to Bixby’s.” I reach up to give him a hug hello. He pulls me close and holds me against him for a few seconds.
“It’s good to see you,” he murmurs in my ear.
Oh, lordy. Yeah. I need to fan my face. When he lets go, I gesture around the café as we step back and take our seats. “It’s been around for longer than I have, but Taylor’s been running it for the last five years. I ordered for you, if that’s okay.”
“Baked goods and coffee is a great first date.”
“This isn’t even the date yet. This is pregaming with the best hollandaise egg sandwich you’ll ever have. I’ve tried getting this and the chocolate croissant recipes from Taylor, but—”
“Never gonna happen,” she calls from the register.
I point over my shoulder in her direction. “But that.”
He smiles. “Tell me what it was like growing up in a small town.”
Before I can answer, Miss Lily has come in while we were talking, and now she stops by our table. “Hey, Tabitha.”
“Hey, Miss Lily. This is Sawyer Reed. Sawyer, this is Miss Lily. She’s the heart and soul of this town.”
