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“What’s wrong?” He brushes his square hand down over his beard. “You’re tired, and it’s late. I can carry you.”

Clearly, the man can carry me. There’s no doubt about that. You know who can’t carry me?

Leon.

You know who doesn’t make me feel safe?

Leon.

You know who doesn’t care that I’m tired, or that we’re getting married tomorrow, or that his head is buried in six inches of cleavage?

Leon.

“I know, I just… I think I’ll walk. Thanks, but, ugh… what are you doing here? Did you like follow me or something?”

He laughs under his breath and strokes his hand over his beard again. It’s gotten longer than it was years ago. Grayer too. I kind of like it this way…not that it matters.

“Would I be an asshole if I said yes?”

A shot of warmth rushes through me for some sick reason.

“Umm… not an asshole, but maybe mentally unstable.”

Sawyer laughs and hops down off the boat ramp before turning back to help me onto the wooden dock. He’s careful withme. The way he touches me. The way he makes me feel when he talks.

“Guess I’m mentally unstable then. You were talking about coming out here earlier, and you know the lake is on my way home, so… I thought I’d see what was up. Looks like I missed the‘pour alcohol on the bride’portion of the night, though.”

“Yeah, well, turns out that’s my groom’s idea of a good time.”

“He poured the alcohol on you?”

“No, one of his buddies.” I blow out a breath and stare up at the stars as we walk down the narrow path off the dock. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I mean, I thought I did. This wedding is important to my dad, to everyone. I…” My chest tightens and the stars start spinning as my breath picks up.

Seriously, Evie? You’re going to have a meltdown right here? Awesome. Great decision making on my part.

I should’ve stayed put and waited for Leon to get his head out of those tits so we could go home. Better yet, I should’ve kicked him off the boat and watched him swim to shore so he’d have to go home and change. Hell, the man probably would’ve stripped down and worn a tablecloth if it meant partying all night.

“I’d ask what you want, but I have a feeling you’re not allowing yourself that option.” Sawyer opens the passenger door of his truck and helps me inside before rounding to his side to climb in. “I mean, you were supposed to marry this guy five years ago, right? You’ve dragged it out for a reason.”

“God, you sound like my sister.”

“Your sister sounds smart.” He pushes the ignition and glances toward me.

I roll my eyes to the side and purse my lips playfully. “She does, and I know you’re both right. I know I should live my lifefor me, but I don’t know how to do that. I mean, I really don’t. My dad has such a hold on everythi—”

“I can take care of us, Evie. If he sends someone after us, I’ll take care of it.” His voice is rough and deep, sending a carnal signal to my brain that’s feeding me all types of desires I shouldn’t be craving.

The truth is, my father has more than guns, he has wealth, and wealthy people might be the scariest of all. With money, my father can make anything happen, and he has. Grace loved dinosaurs when she was little, so my father bought her an entire dinosaur. Every single bone of a stegosaurus. He had it set in the foyer of her bedroom, only to find out later the bones had been stolen by some seller in Mongolia. I don’t remember what happened, but I know my father didn’t give the bones up to the authorities.

What normal family does that happen to?

I glance toward Sawyer as he turns up the heat. It’s hard not to notice how good he looks. His shoulders are broad, his hat is on backward, and the sleeves of his flannel are rolled to show rows of tattoos. I need to look away, but my eyes hold on his. “Do you still think about us?”

Why did I ask that?

“Never mind,” I lean forward, my cheeks turning red, “I’m so sorry. Ignore me. I’m clearly out of my mind tonight. I think it’s probably wedding jitters or something like that. I don’t know. Either way, I’m an idiot.”

His hand lands on my thigh then moves roughly up my arm and onto the side of my face, redirecting my gaze toward his. Heat spills into the small space, and though it’s a cooler night, I swear I’m sweating.

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