Page 19 of His Middle

Noah’s brain was about to explode. How did Sawyer keep all this stuff in his head? How could anyone keep track of all these details? He already knew he couldn’t, that was a given. But even with new managers at the helm, as owner, Noah would still have to oversee everything and make sure things were running properly. Otherwise, six months down the road he’d just end up with another pile of gross, sticky bottle pourers and a team of hostile employees.

“Noah, look at me. Breathe.”

Noah’s eyes snapped up, meeting the calming, sea blue eyes that belonged to Sawyer. If only he could live in those eyes and forget all about his crappy reality—be happy and relaxed, enjoy life again.

“I’m sorry, Sawyer. You’re going to think I’m weak and a quitter, but I can’t do this. I’ll never be Mr. Slick Club Owner. I play Mario Kart and pet my llama and come up with rhinestone-studded binkie designs for the T-shirts I sell. I don’t oversee, and I couldn’t possibly remember what all the things were that I was supposed to be overseeing anyway.” He sniffed. “Bob probably won’t even recognize me anymore. I haven’t been to his pasture in weeks.”

Sawyer laid a hand on Noah’s wrist. Noah lowered his gaze, horrified by the shredded bits of cocktail napkin he’d left on the bar. He hadn’t realized he’d been destroying the carefully arranged pile of napkins, completely undoing Sawyer’s work.

“Oh man. Look at the mess I made.”

Noah tried to clean up the wadded bits of paper, but Sawyer tightened his clasp on Noah’s wrist.

“Don’t worry about that right now. I need you to look at me, Noah. But more importantly, I need you to listen, to trulyhearwhat I’m saying. Can you do that one thing for me?”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.”

Jesus. What the fuck. Arlen was right. How much more obvious could he be?

Sawyer snort-coughed. “Well, you don’t have to go quitethatfar. Look, I know you didn’t sign up for this adventure. And maybe you’ll eventually discover that you don’t want to do this. I’m sure you can run this club with the proper guidance and tools—no one magically becomes a successful business owner overnight. But if you decide this isn’t for you after all, there’s no shame in selling or finding someone else to take over.”

Sawyer sandwiched Noah’s hand between both of his own. “The one thing I’m more certain of than anything else, is that your father wanted you to be happy. If you discover this club isn’t meant to be your life’s work, then let it go. But can you do me a favor before you come to any decision one way or another?”

Noah kept staring at their joined hands. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d do anything for Sawyer.

“Of course. Whatever you want.”

“Then give it six months. Give yourself a chance to succeed before you give up. Like I said earlier, I’ll be right here. You’re not alone, sweetheart.”

Noah jerked to attention.Holy shit. Had Sawyer just used a term of endearment? The ‘not alone’ part was pretty awesome, too. He was possibly reading too much into one random sentence from Sawyer, but Noah didn’t care. He’d take it.

“All right.” Noah gave Sawyer the best smile he could manage. “I’ll give it a chance.”

A knock at the front door caught his attention. A group of guys stood outside, and Noah realized it had to be after noon already.

“Uh-oh.” Sawyer looked at his watch. “It’s already ten past. You grab the door, and I’ll write up the menu on the front board.”

“You got it.”

Noah quickly wiped the napkin bits into his hand then shoved them into his pocket. He didn’t have time to run behind the bar to throw them away. Sawyer was already halfway to the front, so Noah jogged to catch up to him.

“Hey, Sawyer?”

Sawyer stopped and regarded him with a smile. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for talking me off the ledge.”

“Anytime, Noah. Remember, I’m here for you.”

Noah smiled back and rushed to let the customers in. If only Sawyer would stay on for good, would be here for him forever.

Then he could conquer the world.

Chapter Seven

Sawyer dropped the last bag of trash from the kitchen into the dumpster behind the club. He let out a puff of breath and rolled his shoulders.

Good thing I’m in shape.

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