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The most obvious reply is none. We sit there in silence for a few awkward moments until he clears his throat and asks about what Lauren’s dress will look like. It’s such a vague and open-ended question, and I have fun answering it the best I can. He might have overreached with that blunt flirtation, but as he sticks with small talk and asking about the dress design, we fall into a more comfortable companionship. Despite our mutual urge to poke fun at each other, he is easy to get along with. We smile and bicker in equal measures, and as we enter Denver, I can’t believe how fast the drive passed us. It’s nice to be around people who don’t have expectations of me for a change, and that’s just how Sawyer treats me—like I’m just a woman in his truck along for a ride, with no expectations or obligations to meet.
He doesn’t stop there. Once we’re in the city, he’s patient to type in each fabric shop’s address and drive me to every single location. I thought he’d bring me here and ditch me while he went off to handle picking up the trailer, but it’s clear that isn’t his intention at all.
“Where to next?” he asks after the second stop.
I smile at him as we return to his truck. He’s insisted on carrying the fabric samples from both of the places we stopped at so far, and it charms me. Maybe it’s a simple gesture, him offering to carry my things and hold doors open for me, but I admire him all the more for it. He can be quick to tease me, but he is a gentleman, too. It’s a nice balance I want to get used to.
“Are you sure? I know you’ve got your stuff to do.”
He nods with a goofy grin. “Yeah. I’m sure. I’m…curious.”
“About fabric?” I smile as we get into the truck together.
“About you and what you’re doing.”
I lean forward to tap in the next place on his navigation screen.
“But I don’t get why you can’t just buy the fabric now. Instead of collecting samples.”
Once the address is in, I buckle up and face him. “Because this is very important to Lauren.”
He laughs. “Well, I imagine every bride will think her dress is important.”
More so for her. I can’t tell him about her past. It’s her story to tell him, not mine. “The details and approval of her dress matter, and I want to make sure every step of the way is meeting her needs. I want her full approval first. Then I can order it and have it delivered.” I look out the window, watching the scenery. “I hope the shipping process is quick, though.” Once I have Lauren’s approval, I’ll be more impatient to get going on it.
Sawyer shrugs. “I drive over here often enough for supplies. I can just pick it up for you.”
I blink at him, stunned by his easy reply. “That’s, um, that’s really nice of you.” Even as I say it and mean those words, I can’t wrap my head around his genuine offer to be helpful. I’m not used to people doing things for me without expecting anything in return.
For the next couple of hours, we stop for a quick lunch and collect the samples and fabric I need to start framing the dress. I can at least get started on the actual creation of the gown, but I’ll still wait for Lauren’s approval to purchase anything more.
It has already been a long day, but I know it’s far from over.
Sawyer still needs to get his trailer, and with my stops done, he heads toward the hotel we’ll be staying at for the night instead of driving back so late.
“I appreciate your patience and offering to take me around,” I tell him honestly. It may not seem like a lot to him, but it does to me.
“No problem.”
“I took up your whole day,” I protest. I feel like a problem.
“Then finish it off by sticking with me while I get the trailer.” He winks. “Return the favor and keep me company at the store so I can grab my supplies, too.”
I shrug and smile. “Okay, but now I’ll feel overdressed.”
He chuckles and changes directions to get the trailer.
Once there, I wait alongside the truck bed as he hooks up the trailer, and I struggle with the view. Seeing his arms flex reminds me of the muscles in his rugged physique. And later, when witnessing him in the hardware store as he grabs his supplies, I notice his confidence and knowledge of what to get and what to pass on.
It’s a whole new world and a shopping experience that’s far different from my line of work. But we’re not so different. We’re both in our own lines of services, and I take the moment to daydream further.
I run my hand down the smooth, polished surface of the long workspace of a counter as we wait to pay for Sawyer’s things. This surface hosts the transactions for nuts and bolts, tools, and wood. If I had my shop, my counter space would let me measure and cut fabrics with multiple drawers and bins for fasteners and tools of my trade.
“What’s that smile for?” he asks with a gentle nudge at my side.
I sigh. “Thinking about having a shop like this one day.”
“To sell hardware?”
