Page 85 of Sawyer

“Iwantto define it,” he says, his eyes afire. “Webelongto each other. Iwantyou, Ivy. Ionlywant you.”

It’s my turn to have burning eyes. “I only want you, Sawyer.”

“And…and…I want to stay over here a few nights a week and for you to come stay at my place whenever you want…and when the summer gets busy, we’ll still find time for each other, and—”

“I want all of that, too.” I giggle, reaching up to wipe away happy tears.

“And when it’s time,” he says, lowering his voice, “when we’re ready…I want you to be my wife, Ivy Caswell. I want to marry you in the Presbyterian church and have our reception at the Parsnip. I want our kids to haveyour red hair and my blue eyes. I want them to love the old campground up in Dyea with my family and have slumber parties at your aunt and uncle’s house with their older cousins. I want you forever, Ivy. You and me. Forever.”

Every word he says touches my heart, and beyond wanting or longing, deep in my soul where only true things are allowed, I know it’s safe to believe in the sort of forever that Sawyer Stewart is offering me. Moreover, I cannot imagine a day when I don’t want it anymore.

“Huh,” I mumble, trying my best to look disappointed.

His eyes go wide. “What?”

“Well…I don’t want that, Sawyer.”

“Wait. You don’t?”

His whole body tenses, and for a second, Ialmostfeel bad.

“No,” I say softly, shaking my head back and forth. “Red hair is a nightmare. I’d prefer our kids to have yourblondhair and mygreeneyes.”

His mouth drops open, and he throws back his head to laugh. It’s a joyful sound. The best—the very best—sound.

“Oh, you little stinker!” he cries, lifting me up and throwing me over his shoulder caveman-style as I cackle with glee. “Where’s the bedroom in this place anyway?”

“Through the door over there!” I say, even though I can’t see a thing.

He marches through the bedroom door and pauses in the dark room.

“Um…”

“It’s an air mattress!” I say, thumping him on the back. “I only signed the lease on Thursday. The bed’s coming from Amazon in three weeks!”

“So, you got us an air mattress?”

“Let me down,” I demand. When he does, I look up at him. “Yes. I got us an air mattress.”

“From the hardware store?” he asks, barely able to conceal more laughter.

“It’s the only place in town that sells them,” I tell him. The air mattress sits by itself in the middle of the room, with a fitted sheet I stole from Aunt P.’s linen closet and a blanket I bought with the bed. Looking at it—the starkness of it on the floor of an otherwise empty room—makes me grimace. “I knew we’d want to christen the place, and I preferred not to do it on the hard wooden floor.”

“So you got us an air mattress,” he says from behind me, his voice tinged with equal parts humor and love.

I turn around to look at him, putting my hands on my hips. “Yes, I did! And if you don’t like it—”

“I love it,” he growls, kissing me again.

We grab frantically at each other’s clothes, shrugging out of parkas, toeing out of boots, unbuttoning shirts and button-flys, pulling T-shirts over our heads, and finally, whisking underwear over our hips to the floor. We stand across from each other in the darkness, suddenly still after a flurry of activity.

“I’d propose to you tonight if you’d accept,” he says. “I know what I want.”

My breath catches. My heart swells.

“Don’t,” I say, taking a step toward him. Every breath he takes makes the wiry little hairs on his chest tickle my erect nipples. “Not yet.” I reach for his hands at his sides and clasp them, adjusting our fingers, braiding them together. Naked, and bathed in moonlight, we stand face to face. “I love you, Sawyer. I want for us to be together.” I pause before continuing. “But I’d love a little more time. Not to find someone else. There is no one else, and there never will be. But I think I just want to be Ivy-Caswell-who-loves-Sawyer-Stewart for a little while before I’m officially Ivy Stewart.” His fingers tighten around mine. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, blowing out a breath before grinning at me. “Ivy Stewart. That’ll be amazing, right?”

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