When he got himself sorted out this afternoon, he’d be able to focus on what mattered—put the hard work into becoming the man he needed to be for his kids. Maybe his workaholic tendencies wouldn’t be such a liability after all, if he could just refocus his energy. He wouldn’t let his daughters grow up resentful. He’d make sure they got what they needed, and then some.
The door to the house opened behind him, and Sawyer glanced back to see Lloyd come outside with his thermos in one hand and a sandwich in the other. He took a big bite of the sandwich, then nodded to the truck.
“On second thought, you drive,” Lloyd said past the food in his mouth. “I’ll tell you where to go.”
Sawyer climbed in on the driver’s side.
“The key’s on the visor,” Lloyd said, swallowing. “And you do what I say when I say it. You hear? I don’t want another accident on my hands with you.”
“Got it.” Sawyer flicked down the visor and caught the key as it dropped. He started the truck and with the rumbling beneath him, he felt a wave of relief.
This must have been what it felt like to head out for a day on the ranch. If he needed some comfort today, he’d get it the old-fashioned way—with hard work. He couldn’t dump his emotions onto Olivia.
That evening when Sawyer and Lloyd got back, he was tired and it felt good. A lot of the work was starting to come back to him. He still needed Lloyd to prompt him with what to do, but his muscles seemed to remember the movements, and he was catching on quickly. Some of it was just logic—usually what he thought he should do next considering everything going on around him turned out to be the right thing. He was going to be able to pitch in around here a little bit more, and that was a relief.
When they got back for dinner, Olivia had already cooked. It was some sort of meat sauce on top of rice. It was new to him, but it tasted good, especially as tired and hungry as he was. Olivia fed the girls some rice and pieces of meat without the sauce. They didn’t eat much of it, and Lloyd grabbed them some yogurt and crackers—those disappeared a lot faster.
Sawyer had missed the girls while he was gone. He was kind of relieved to feel that pang. He’d been half afraid he wouldn’t, and didn’t know what that would say about him. So after dinner, he cuddled his daughters on his lap and read them a story until they nodded off.
“Did you need a hand?” Olivia asked.
“I can do it,” Lloyd said, coming into the living room. “I’ve kind of missed this part.”
“Oh...of course.” Olivia smiled and sank back into her spot on the couch.
Lloyd eased Bella off Sawyer’s lap and Sawyer hoisted up Lizzie. They ambled down the hall together, and Sawyer glanced back once to see Olivia watching them with a tender look on her face. Then they headed into the bedroom and the men lowered the toddlers into their cribs. Lizzie moaned a little as she was getting resettled, but it only took a few seconds for both girls to be snoring softly from their beds. Sawyer closed the curtains, and Lloyd shot Sawyer a smile as they both headed for the door.
This must have been the routine before Olivia arrived, he realized, him and Lloyd pitching in together with the kids. Lloyd seemed to know the drill.
“Back to normal,” Lloyd said. “Almost.”
“Yeah?” Sawyer wished he could remember that.
“We held down the fort,” Lloyd said, and then he nodded down the hall. “I’m turning in, too.”
“All right.” Sawyer nodded. “Good night.”
He headed back out to the living room, and he found Olivia where he’d left her, sitting on the side of the couch, her legs tucked up underneath her. He paused, gave her an uncertain smile. She looked sweet and soft, and he cleared his throat, gazing down at his boots instead.
“About before...” he said.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” she said.
“You’re trying to be nice, but I think we do,” he said. “I know it got kind of...intense earlier. And I know that’s on me. I’m starting over in a lot of ways, and I don’t remember much of anything between us, so I guess I’m making a fool of myself. And I’m sorry.”
“You’re no fool,” she said, her voice low. That same certainty was back on her face from earlier, and he wished he could believe her.
“I’m a bit of one,” he said ruefully. “Maybe I’m just lonely or something, but I’m finding myself slipping into... I don’t know.”
He didn’t want to confess any of this, but he couldn’t very well go on with some awkward moment standing between them, either. She was the only friend he had right now—that he could remember.
“It’s funny,” she said quietly. “I thought it would be different this time. But we always did have this problem.”
He sank down onto the other end of the couch, his gaze locked on her. “You told me we were friends.”
“And we were,” she said with a nod. “We chose to be friends because it wouldn’t work between us to be more... I honestly thought that the chemistry would be gone between us by now.”
“So we were always like this?” he asked, shaking his head. “The attraction, I mean. Because I know I feel it and I was beating myself up all afternoon thinking that I’d probably offended you.”
“No, you didn’t offend me,” she said, then shrugged weakly.
“Good...” He let out a breath of relief. “But I’m still sorry. I’ve been dreading
