4. Casey

Chapter 4

Casey

S lap!

"Ah! What was that for?" Chris yelped, rubbing his hand as if I'd hit it with a ruler instead of just giving it a light smack.

I rolled my eyes as he dramatically caressed the back of his hand, which, I noticed, wasn't even red.

Ignoring him, I carefully rearranged the finger sandwiches I'd bought last night, placing the one Chris had dropped back into its spot on the platter.

"These aren't for you," I said, trying to sound patient. "They're for our new landlord. He's coming in today, and we need to make a good impression."

I left out the part about needing to ask for a one-week extension on next month's rent.

Not the best way to start off with someone you're meeting for the first time , I thought, frowning at the small spread.

I hoped the new landlord would be as nice as Mrs. Hills had been. It was probably dumb to even ask for the extension—especially since I hadn't even met him yet.

Maybe I shouldn't have lent my brother that money, but it was too late to think about that now.

Sighing, I glanced at the sandwiches again. I probably shouldn't have been so cheap at the grocery store last night. The mini bagel bites might have been the better choice.

"But it's not like he's going to notice one missing," Chris said, pouting at the sandwiches like a kid eyeing candy.

I sighed again and handed him the dropped sandwich. "Fine, just one. If there are leftovers, you can have the rest later."

I checked my watch—still an hour before this ‘Garth Hills' was supposed to arrive.

We didn't have any morning appointments. Plenty of time for one of us to run across the street for something a little nicer than these tiny sandwiches.

The familiar ring of the doorbell snapped me out of my thoughts.

I looked up just in time to see Sawyer walking in, with Benny trotting at his heel, both covered in mud and dried leaves, as if they'd just rolled out of a kindergarten autumn art project.

As soon as they were inside, Benny gave a vigorous shake, spraying mud everywhere. Then, he plopped down on the floor, looking up at Sawyer with a proud expression, as if he had just completed a job well done.

Chris stared dumbfounded at the mess on the floor, which was a good distraction since it meant he wouldn't notice me staring at Sawyer.

Now that I could see him in daylight—even splattered in mud from head to toe—it was impossible not to notice how his chiseled features stood out.

His strong jawline and intense blue eyes shone through the dirt, almost as if the mud was highlighting them instead of hiding them.

"Sorry about the mess, but can you squeeze us in right now?" Sawyer asked.

"Yeah, of course. Come on in," I replied, quickly standing from my chair and leading them further into the shop.

As I walked ahead, I could've sworn I heard Sawyer whisper, "Good job," to Benny as he scooped him up.

Sawyer handed Benny over to me, and I immediately started prepping him for a much-needed grooming session. As I worked, Sawyer lingered nearby, watching us closely.

"You don't have to stay," I offered, glancing up. "This might take a while."

"If it's okay with you, I'd like to stay," Sawyer replied.

"Well, you're not staying here looking like that. There's a shower in the back," I said, pointing toward a small room behind us.

It was technically the office, but the shower inside had become essential—emergencies happened more often than one might think in a pet grooming shop.

"I'll grab you a towel and some clothes," I said.

Sawyer nodded and headed toward the back. I secured Benny on the grooming table, making sure he was comfortable before rummaging through a nearby cabinet for spare uniforms.

I pulled out a clean T-shirt and some sweatpants. Both were labeled ‘One Size', so I wasn't sure how well they'd fit Sawyer's broad frame.

"Sorry, we only have these," I called out, placing them, along with a towel, on a chair beside the bathroom door.

"It's fine," Sawyer's voice came from inside the bathroom.

The door was slightly ajar, just enough for me to catch a glimpse of him through the crack.

I turned just in time to see him pulling off his shirt, the fabric peeling away to reveal the powerful muscles of his arms and back.

His broad shoulders tapered down to a sculpted back, and every movement sent ripples through the lean muscle beneath his skin.

As he reached to tug the shirt over his head, I couldn't help but notice the sharp V-cut that disappeared below the waistband of his jeans.

My mind wandered, wondering how far that line went, and before I realized it, I had licked my lips.

Get it together, Casey.

Shaking off the thoughts, I turned back to find Benny staring up at me, his big brown eyes wide and innocent—but there was a hint of judgment in that look, like he knew exactly what had just crossed my mind.

Great. Now I had a dachshund silently calling me out.

I took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand, pushing all distracting thoughts aside.

As I concentrated on Benny, I heard the door creak open behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Sawyer stepping out.

The clothes I'd given him were clearly too small—his T-shirt clung to his chest and arms, accentuating every hard line and muscle.

The sweatpants barely covered his calves, and that V-cut I had noticed earlier was even more pronounced.

I felt my eyes lingering on the sweatpants but quickly flicked them back up before Sawyer could catch me staring.

Coughing, I grabbed a bottle of water and took a long sip to steady myself.

"So, what did you two do to end up this dirty?" I asked, focusing instead on scrubbing the last of the mud from Benny's fur.

Sawyer shrugged, settling onto a nearby stool. "We took a run in the woods."

I glanced at the mud matted deep in Benny's fur. It looked like he'd rolled in it, not just run through it.

"Must've been a pretty rough trail, huh?" I commented, rinsing off the soap.

"Yeah, well, that's how it is in the pack lands," Sawyer replied casually.

My hand froze mid-rinse as I looked up at him.

Pack lands?

"You're a shifter?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

I glanced down at my arm, where the skin around the scar—hidden by my sleeves—suddenly felt itchy.

I resisted the urge to scratch, forcing my focus back on cleaning Benny and trying to shove the memories threatening to resurface back down.

But it was too late. The memory crashed into me, pulling me back to a different city over a year ago.

I could feel the cold, hard floor of my old apartment beneath me, the weight of a body pressing me down as I kicked, desperately trying to push it off.

The terror from that night surged in my veins again, as if I were still bolting out the door, clutching my bleeding arm, running as fast and far as my legs could carry me.

"Are you okay?" Sawyer's voice broke through the memory like a lifeline, snapping me back to the present.

I blinked and looked up to find him standing in front of me, brows furrowed with concern. I must've looked more shaken than I realized.

My heart pounded so hard, I wondered if he could hear it. I met his gaze for only a second before quickly looking away, not trusting myself to hold eye contact for too long.

"I'm fine," I muttered, focusing intently on Benny, hoping that lathering shampoo into his fur would keep me grounded.

But something felt off. I was nervous, though not in the usual way I felt around shifters, even the nicer ones like Mrs. Hills.

With them, I always kept my guard up, a barrier I couldn't quite lower, no matter how kind they were. But this... whatever this was with Sawyer felt different.

Honestly, it had never even crossed my mind that Sawyer was a shifter.

As I continued working on Benny, I felt Sawyer's hand gently rest on my shoulder. I blinked, surprised.

Normally, I would've flinched at a shifter's touch. My instincts would have been screaming at me, or my arm would be itching like crazy. But not this time.

Instead, I felt my heartbeat slow, the tension coiling in my chest easing.

When I found out he was a shifter, my initial reaction had been knee-jerk—a reflex born from old fears. But what I felt now was something else entirely.

Every time I looked into his dark blue eyes, I felt an inexplicable calm, as if I knew, deep down, that I could trust him.

It made no sense after everything I'd been through. Yet here I was, dropping my defenses without even realizing it.

And that—more than anything—was what made me nervous.

Because it meant I might finally be okay with letting my guard down. And that was something I hadn't done in a very long time.

I found myself massaging Benny's ears and head a little too long, enjoying the way he nuzzled into my palm.

His soft fur was comforting beneath my fingers, grounding me in a way I couldn't quite explain.

Benny had always been a good judge of character, and right now, that was enough of an explanation for me. If Benny trusted Sawyer, maybe I could too.

I looked up when I heard a soft wince from Sawyer as he tried to take a seat.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's just my leg," he replied, hopping a little as he finally settled into the chair.

I glanced down, watching as he massaged the area around his knee. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it before.

Had it been this bad the night we first met when he chased after Benny? How had I missed something like that?

"Are you alright?" I asked, frowning. I couldn't shake the worry about how he had managed to run with it.

"It just flares up from time to time. Don't worry about it," Sawyer said, waving it off like it was nothing.

I hesitated for a second, my gaze still on his leg. I wanted to ask more, maybe offer him a more comfortable chair, but there was something in his tone—an edge that made it clear he didn't want to dwell on it.

"So, was that why you were running earlier? For your leg?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Yeah," Sawyer nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It helps keep it from stiffening up too much."

A thought crossed my mind, and before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Maybe I could join you sometime? You know, for exercise?"

Wait. Did I just ask someone out? More importantly, a shifter ?

Sawyer looked at me, a little surprised, then smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that," he said.

Feeling slightly more at ease, I returned to cleaning Benny, making sure every last bit of mud and dirt was gone. Finally, I dried him off, fluffing his fur with a towel until it was soft and shiny again.

"There we go," I said, slipping a little bowtie around Benny's neck—the one we always gave pets after grooming.

"Oh, Mr. Hills! Good morning!" Chris's voice boomed from the front, startling me. It was loud enough to be heard from the back and a little too enthusiastic to sound natural.

I groaned. I'd told Chris earlier to let me know when our new landlord arrived, but this wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind.

I dried my hands quickly and turned back to Sawyer. He was staring toward the front of the shop, his brows furrowed.

I wanted to ask if everything was okay, but I needed to greet the new landlord first.

"Sorry, could you excuse me for a moment?" I handed Benny's leash back to him but couldn't help noticing the look on Sawyer's face. There was something there that I couldn't quite figure out.

I hurried out to the front, plastering on my biggest smile. "Hi, Mr. Hills. It's so good to finally meet you!"

I patted my hands on my jeans, not sure if I was trying to dry them or calm my nerves before reaching out to shake his hand.

"Call me Garth," he said with a smile.

But his smile… well, let's just say it was nothing like Mrs. Hills' warm, friendly one.

"Are these for me?" Garth asked, pointing at the sandwiches I had prepared.

"Yes, help yourself," I replied, trying to keep my tone light and my smile wide.

Garth didn't hesitate to pop a couple of sandwiches straight into his mouth, chewing with a smirk.

"If I'd known you were going to give me the special treatment, I would've come here sooner," he added with a wink.

As he spoke, Garth stepped closer, resting his hand on my shoulder. I had to clench my fists tight at my sides, hard enough that I wouldn't have been surprised if my skin tore.

There was something about him that made my instincts flare up. Everything about him screamed ‘danger' to the suspicious part of my brain—the part that had spent too many nights binge-watching true crime shows. His overly friendly demeanor felt forced, making me want to keep my distance.

But I gritted my teeth, forced a bigger smile, and shoved those instincts aside.

I needed to stay polite, at least long enough to work up the courage to ask Garth for an extension on next month's rent.

Suddenly, Garth burst out laughing at something behind me.

"What the hell are you wearing? Are you working here now?" He sneered at Sawyer. "With that leg?"

I glanced back at Sawyer, and his face was tight, his eyes narrowing.

For a split second, I saw a flash of gold in his irises, his gaze locked on Garth's hand still draped over my shoulder. Sawyer's eyes flicked down, looking at my clenched fists.

"Oh, he's just—" I started to explain, trying to shrug Garth's arm off my shoulder, but he cut me off, slinging his arm around me even tighter.

His cheap cologne filled my nose, making me instinctively turn my face away, trying to put some space between us. But Garth leaned in, his voice loud in my ear.

"If you need help that badly, you'd be better off finding someone else. In fact," he added with a smug grin, "you should consider someone who's quickly rising to the top of the pack."

I forced a polite smile, trying once again to peel myself away from Garth's grip.

Just as I managed to step back, Sawyer moved in, pulling me aside.

He looked at me, his expression questioning, as if silently asking if I was alright. I gave him a small nod.

Garth's face darkened as he looked between us, clearly displeased. Before he could say anything else, Sawyer placed a firm hand on the back of Garth's neck, his grip so solid that Garth stumbled slightly.

With one arm still carrying Benny and the other guiding Garth toward the door, Sawyer moved them both outside.

"Come on, I think Cooper's waiting for us," Sawyer said, his tone calm but firm.

Just before they reached the door, Sawyer glanced back at me, concern still etched across his face.

I mouthed that I was alright, and after a moment, he gave a slight nod, finally leading Garth out toward the parking lot.

I let out a long breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, then looked over at Chris, who was staring down at the half-eaten plate of sandwiches that Garth had attacked earlier.

"You still want those?" I asked.

Chris made a face, his disgust clear. "Nah. Throw them away."