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Shock slams into me with a tidal force. My jaw drops, and I gawk, staring wide-eyed at the person in my living room. I hadn’t even looked for his truck as Lauren pulled up. We were too busy chatting, and he must have parked it off to the side, not right out front.
“Sawyer?”
He pauses but doesn’t stop with the unboxing. His sweet smile threatens to melt me into a puddle, and the sight of what he’s setting up floors me.
“Is that…” I approach him, almost frantic to rush closer and make sure I’m not imagining things. Because I very well could be. If I’m not mistaken, he’s taking off the protective cover and guards for a brand-new sewing machine. Not just any old thing, like the one I’d found when I came here. It’s a Brother Stellaire model, something I didn’t even have at school. They’re insanely expensive, able to last forever, and perform a variety of stitches, including embroidery. The last time I fell under a spell of wistful thinking, I looked them up and daydreamed about where I would find fifteen thousand dollars to afford the top-of-the-line piece of equipment.
“Sawyer.” I swallow, becoming frantic at the thought of something like this here. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you set up something in your work area.”
I gape at him and shake my head. “No. No way. I mean. Sawyer, I can’t afford that!”
“I don’t care.” He stands and shrugs. “It’s a gift. From me to you.”
I know Kevin explained that Sawyer holds all of their dad’s construction company now, but still!
I blink at him, too shocked to reply, but as I try to let this discovery sink into my brain, I notice how clean the whole place is. He reorganized the entire living room, going so far as to put up proper shelving while I was gone.
“Sawyer…” I lick my lips, feeling the burn of tears again, but this time, they would be tears of joy.
Before I can ask what exactly he’s up to, he takes my hand. “I need to show you something.”
I huff out a weak laugh, already so thrown off by his amazing and generous gestures.
He leads me outside, heading toward his truck, and I feel so very confused. And stupid. If I want to think he doesn’t care for me, I might have to seriously reconsider. Buying me that sewing machine and putting this much effort into perfecting my workspace, he’s practically showing me that he adores me. I watch his back as he guides me to his truck, and without a word, I take a leap of faith to just trust him and go with it.
If he’s not careful, I’ll be hopelessly, utterly in love with him and stare at him like he just hung the moon for me.
He seems to be in a trance as he drives, tense and nervous. We leave Dalton’s property, and I do my best to tamp down all the questions running through my mind as he heads to Breckenridge.
Why?
How?
When?
What?
But mostly, why? Why would he go so far to make this happen for me like this if he’s cool with diminishing what we have as a mere hookup?
He stops at a storefront on the main drag. It’s full of tourists here for the summer season and retail shopping. Unlike the smaller town near the Goldfinch Bed and Breakfast, plenty of activity is going on here.
“Sit tight.” He exits the truck and rounds it to open my door, and helps me out.
I step out and hold his hand, unsure what’s coming next as he leads me toward the building. The specific place we’re in front of is empty, maybe abandoned. Windows are covered up, and some peeling paint shows on the outer walls.
I shield my eyes and squint to look up, but no name reads on the awning, and no sign flaps in the slight breeze. My surprise is extended even further when he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key that he slides into the door. He leads me inside to the empty space, and I furrow my brow.
“I own this building. My father purchased it, and he left it to me. The tenants recently retired and moved out.”
My heart races as he tells me this, and I can’t stay still. I walk around with him, confused but starting to catch on to what I think he’s showing me. He points out a showroom, a huge back room, and an attached office.
Back in the center of the space, he faces me. “I spoke with Dalton, Claire. If we get engaged, it will give Dalton and Caleb’s lawyers time to sort out the mess with your mother. It might be enough to convince Adelaide to drop the issue with your trust fund, or we can take the case to court and properly press charges against her.”
I open my mouth, but he doesn’t let me speak, holding up his hand.
“If it doesn’t work, if your mother refuses to let go, you can have this place. It would be yours. All yours, for free. I can do the work to make it into the bridal shop of your dreams.”
