Page 7 of Freeing Savannah

Broader than she remembered. Older. Stronger. His hair was darker now, brushing his collar in need of a trim, but his eyes . . . Those eyes still held that same quiet steadiness that used to calm her when thunderstorms rattled her windows. Still that quiet, thunderstorm gray. Still watching everything. Still watchingher.

She stopped walking.

Sawyer.

Her heart stuttered, then surged like it recognized him before her brain caught up.

The world didn’t fall away, not exactly. It just . . . held its breath.

She reached into the pocket of her slacks before she could stop herself and closed her fingers around the cool edge of something small and worn: the wooden shield pendant he’d carved with a pocket knife the summer before she left. The one with their shared initials inside a heart.

She’d never stopped carrying it.

She’d told herself it was just a habit. A sentimental tic. Something from a simpler time. But the way her heart pounded now betrayed every lie she’d rehearsed over the years.

He turned, sensing her before she spoke, and their eyes locked. He didn’t say anything. Neither did she. But his mouth twitched slightly.

Recognition.

God, he still knew her.

Just like that, she was seven again, standing barefoot in the creek bordering their backyards, with the boy who’d been her world.

But the boy she remembered was gone.

The man standing in front of her looked like he’d been forged in fire and kept the burn seared into his soul. Tattoos disappeared beneath the edge of his T-shirt sleeve. A faint, pale scar, barely visible beneath his dark beard, curved under his jaw. He didn’t smile. But his eyes—they softened when they met hers.

When he uttered the long-forgotten nickname, a familiar tightness constricted her throat, and a wave of bittersweet memory washed over her. “Sawyer?”

His mouth twitched. “Haven’t heard that name in a long time.”

“You . . . You’re the bodyguard I didn’t want?” she said, her voice lower than she intended.

He tilted his head. “Apparently. And you’re the assignment I didn’t expect.”

Kandy let out a loud, exaggerated yawn behind them. “Ugh, is this going to be one of those broody, slow-burn dramas? Someone warn me so I can pack a sedative. Oh my God, Savannah, did your stepdaddy order you apersonal fantasy? He looks like a bodyguard-slash-regret from a small-town romance.”

Savannah didn’t even look at her. Couldn’t. Not when all her focus was locked on the boy who once swore he’d always protect her, and the man who’d shown up twenty years later to keep that promise.

As others from the tour began to arrive, she barely remembered walking toward him. Just a blur of footsteps, heat, and the hum of a memory waking up from a twenty-year sleep.

Unbeknownst to her, he’d efficiently led them away from Kandy’s line of fire and the prying ears of the other musicians,finding themselves alone at last, her pulse, which had been racing wildly, finally settled down, a nervous flutter in her throat. Sawyer stood in front of her like a wall she’d forgotten she’d ever leaned on. Tall. Quiet. Still.

Overwhelmed, she embraced him, the pounding of her heart echoing the desperate yearning in her soul. Everything that was him enveloped her as he wrapped his arms around her. She breathed in deep, clean soap, and something woodsy filled her senses. As they hugged, she perceived a sharply defined body, all hard angles and taut muscles, a stark contrast to the unexpected sense of belonging she felt for the first time in two decades. It was a sense of finally being home. The familiar comfort of his presence washed over her, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in twenty years.

With great reluctance that surprised her, she pulled back. “I didn’t know,” she said softly, “that you werehim.The bodyguard.”

“I didn’t know you wereyouuntil you walked in,” he replied. “Didn’t exactly expect my next assignment to be someone I used to watch the sunset with from my front porch.”

She laughed, the sound quiet and far too breathless. “Your porch had the better view.”

He gave a faint nod, something flickering behind his eyes.

A beat passed between them, thick with all the things they didn’t say.

“Your hair is longer,” she offered, instantly hating how stupid it sounded.

He tilted his head. “Yours is the same.”

---