Page 144

That’s what she was holding.

Does that mean a dress?

Or is Sadie just looking for something different than what she already has?

The nerves are back, twisting in my stomach like a million daggers. Why did I ask the way I did? We could have just had casual conversation over dinner tonight without any pressure or labels.

Why did I have to slap an “it’s a date” stamp on it?

Bracing both hands on the top of the bar, I drop my head down and focus on my breathing as the memory of this morning comes back into focus.

Suddenly, I know exactly why.

Because Sadie has made me feel more alive than I ever have.

She brings me hope that I’ve never known.

And it’s not just her beauty that has captivated me, but her strength. Her resilience. The way that she clings to faith and light, no matter the circumstances.

“Whoa, you’ve got it bad.”

I pull back and glare at Sawyer. “If you’re here to mess with me⁠—”

“Not a chance.” He takes his coffee. “I’m here to help you.”

“With what?”

He eyes me over the rim of his cup as if I should already know the answer to it. “As long as I’ve known you, there has never been a woman in your life. You’re surly, unapproachable⁠—”

“Gee, thanks.”

He grins. “But you’re also loyal. And Sadie seems to bring you out of your shell a bit. Anastasia adores her. I think she’s great. We both want to see you happy. So, Mav, I am here—” He stops speaking, sets his coffee aside, and holds up both hands. “To help you set the scene.”

“Set the scene?”

Sawyer’s grin spreads. “Have I ever told you the story of the impromptu date night I made for Anastasia on Zane’s boat when we were running for our lives?”

Music drifts softly from the speakers near the dance floor. It’s a stark change from the usual music I play, and since—according to Sawyer—I have no romantic forethought, he chose the playlist.

I carry a bowl of salad out and place it on the table I set for the two of us. A candle flickers in the center, and I have to fight against the voice telling me that this is too much. That I’m going to scare her away by going to this extent.

Sawyer wanted to hang a gazillion little lights from the ceiling but decided the soft glow from the dimmed lights would be sufficient. He’d helped me move the tables and chairs, though, so the space would feel like it’s all ours.

Maybe I am doing too much.

What if she sees this and thinks it’s ridiculous?

Before I can second-guess myself, though, someone clears her throat behind me. I turn, and the air is knocked from my lungs as I take in the sight of Sadie standing at the entrance of the bar, her hair in loose curls, wearing a yellow sundress.

My mouth dries.

I lose the ability to even move as I drink in every inch of her.

Perfection. That’s what Sadie is.

“This is so beautiful, Maverick,” she says as she looks around the bar. That stormy blue gaze lifts to mine.

“Not compared to you,” I say, finally catching my breath. “You look stunning.”