Page 89 of Love Me Reckless

“Yes.” I sneak a glance at him. That he isn’t scared is messing with my head. Birch could make Sawyer’s life difficult in so many ways, and I’m just supposed to let it happen?

“Take me out of the equation,” Sawyer says, so quiet I barely hear him. “What about you? What do you want?”

The sleigh turns, following the river downstream. “What I want and what is possible are very different.”

“You have everything you need to change that, princess.”

Heat sizzles up my spine, making my face burn. “Stop calling me that.”

Under the blanket, he slides his mittened hand beneath mine and cradles it gently.

I should resist. I should yank my hand away and turn my back to him, shut him out of my life for good.

The thought of that tears me open inside.

“I drove by that preschool building,” he says. “The FOR SALE sign is back up.”

“So?”

He shrugs. “What if the other deal fell through?”

Warmth flickers to life in my belly and the dreams I cast aside rise up like a gentle wave. But it breaks just as fast, because I’m in no better position to buy that house than I was a month ago. I’ve researched grants and programs, and I’ve spoken with a representativefrom the Finn River Chamber of Commerce. While there’s interest for my idea, it’s slow going.

“Maybe the right person will buy it this time,” I say.

“I think that person is you.”

I blink back my emotions raging out of control inside me. If he’s right, why can’t I seem to make things happen? Going after what I want is only making me miserable.

When we return to the Huttons’ ranch, everyone gets out of the sleigh and heads for the house. Zach and Sofie hang back to help Henry unhitch the horses.

Inside the house, Barb has soup in a giant crock pot and mulled wine she’s kept on low, plus Christmas cookies and bowls of homemade caramel popcorn.

The kitchen fills with laughter and conversation as people line up with their bowls and fill plates with goodies. Ava and Hutch make a beeline for the hearth to build up the fire, leaving me and Sawyer alone in the entryway.

He pulls a small rectangular box from his pocket. It’s wrapped in shiny green paper with a little red ribbon taped to the top. “Merry Christmas, Kirilee.”

My breath catches in my throat. “I… don’t have a gift for you.”

He steps closer, and without the extra protection of our thick coats, the heat between us feels dangerous. “I think we covered this already, remember? Now open it.”

His bossy tone makes my spine tingle, but I peel back the paper to the plain white box underneath. There’s something rattling around inside it. I give Sawyer a curious glance as I slip the flap open on the bottom and slide the object into my palm. It looks like a rubber address stamp, with a smooth wooden handle.

Only…

I hand him the wad of ripped paper and empty box so I can look closer at the stamp. It’s made of raised brass, like it’s meant to imprint something soft. The letters are in reverse, but there’s a K and the outline of a bird.

“It’s a pottery stamp. You made this? For me?” The flutters clot in my throat. “How?”

He smiles. “I sent the design to a press maker, and they forged the metal. Then I used a woodworking lathe to sand the handle, and fused them together.”

Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them back. “This is so thoughtful.”

“You want to see it in action?” He nods to the door.

We step back outside and he scoops up a handful of snow, packing it into an oval ball. He holds it out to me. “Go ahead.”

Gently, I press the stamp into the hard snow. Under the porch light, “Crafted by Kirilee” arcs over an outline of a bird, her wings outstretched.

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