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“Sawyer,” I whisper, not sure what I’m about to say.
He leans in slightly, his breath warm on my cheek. “Yeah?”
But I chicken out. I’m the biggest chicken in the whole world. “Goodnight,” I whisper, giving his hand a little squeeze.
His eyes sparkle in the moonlight, and he gives me a tender smile, placing a soft peck on my nose. “Goodnight, Margaret.”
"A man doesn't know what happiness is until he's married. By then it's too late."
— FRANK SINATRA
20
MAGGIE
Iwake up to an empty bed, stretching languidly as a soft, euphoric feeling washes over me. My body feels deliciously relaxed, like I’m a little tipsy. It’s the kind of contentment that comes from being beautifully taken care of…
My cheeks flush as unbidden thoughts flood my mind. Oh boy. I feel a mix of warmth and bashfulness in my chest, painting my skin with a rosy glow. Yeesh, when did I turn into such a sap? But I can’t stop the giddy smile that spreads across my face as I burrow deeper into the plush comforter, savoring the lingering scent of Sawyer on the pillow next to me.
Padding into the kitchen, I’m hit with the mouthwatering aroma of a full breakfast spread. Sawyer stands at the stove, his back to me, whistling a jaunty tune. His sandy blond hair is tousled, he’s shirtless, (because of course he is), and he’s wearing low-slung sweatpants. I nearly choke on air at the sight of his muscles flexing as he flips a pancake.
“Morning, beautiful,” he says without turning around, like he has some kind of Maggie-radar.
I blush furiously, my face probably resembling a strawberry. Heat creeps up my neck and floods my cheeks, and I’m prettysure I could fry an egg on my face right now. My traitorous body seems determined to broadcast my attraction like a neon sign.
“Morning,” I mumble, suddenly very interested in my bare feet.
Sawyer turns, a megawatt smile lighting up his face like he’s the mayor of Flirt Town. “Sleep well?” He sets a mug of coffee in front of me, prepared just the way I like it.
I nod, suddenly feeling shy, avoiding Sawyer’s intense gaze. “Yeah, I slept great. Thanks for, um…everything.” Oh gawwwd!
Sawyer's grin widens as he takes in my flustered state. “I made breakfast. Thought you might be hungry.”
The way he says ‘hungry’ makes my insides do a little flip.
“Uh-huh,” I manage, reaching for my coffee mug to hide my flaming cheeks. Then I blurt, “Wow, you really went all out.”
“Well,” he says and winks, placing a plate piled high with eggs, bacon, and pancakes in front of me. “I figured you could…use the sustenance.”
My face burns hotter than the stovetop, a fact that’s not lost on Sawyer as his eyes dance with amusement. It’s ridiculous how easily he can reduce me to a blushing mess with just a few well-placed words and that infuriatingly sexy smirk of his.
“I…uh…the bacon smells good,” I stammer, grabbing a piece and shoving it in my mouth.
He chuckles, clearly enjoying my flustered state. “Just wait till you taste my pancakes. They’ll rock your world…again.”
I shove more food in my mouth before I spontaneously combust.
Sawyer leans across the counter, his face inches from mine.
“You know,” he says, his voice husky and intimate. “I could get used to waking up like this morning.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “Like what? With your sister in the next room?”
He chuckles, low and deep. “With you, Magpie. Looking all adorable and flustered.”
“I’m not flustered,” I protest weakly, even as my heart does a little jig in my chest.
Sawyer’s grin is positively wicked as he reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “No? So that blush is just…what? A sunburn?”
