9. Casey

Chapter 9

Casey

I t was late; the shop was quiet except for the low hum of the overhead lights and the faint sound of running water from the grooming station.

I was at a counter, wiping down some stray fur, while Lisa leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and wearing a skeptical expression.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

I shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Why not? He's doing me a favor, and I'm doing him one. That's what friends do, right?"

Truthfully, when I said I'd owe Sawyer a favor, I didn't imagine... this.

My mind had wandered to other possibilities—none of which involved helping him with his job. But I didn't mind.

It was a chance to get to know him better. All I really knew about him was that he worked at his friend Griffin's bar and at his family's bookstore.

Maybe tonight would give me an opportunity to learn more.

Lisa smirked. "Wait, so you being there is the favor? Someone's head is getting a little big."

I rolled my eyes, tossing the cleaning cloth onto the counter. "No, he says he needs my help for something specific."

She raised her hand dramatically. "Raise your hand if you think this is just a cover-up for a date."

Chris, who'd been quietly grooming a poodle in the corner, raised his hand without missing a beat.

Then, as if Chris wanted to make a point, he lifted the poodle's paw and waved it in the air.

I ignored them both, walking over to the mirror on the wall. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it.

I could feel Lisa's eyes on me. Was this really a date? It didn't feel like one.

Sawyer had mentioned we'd be hitting a few bars tonight to try some new items on their menus. He said he wanted to get inspired and bring back some ideas for the bar he worked at.

He made it sound very work-related—like he needed my second opinion on the food.

Nothing romantic about that, right? Just friends helping each other out.

I frowned at my reflection. So why was I disappointed if it really wasn't a date?

Just then, the bell above the door chimed, and in walked Sawyer. I glanced up, catching the easy smile on his face as he stepped inside.

He looked good. Really good. His dark jeans fit him perfectly, and his button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, showed off his strong forearms. Casual but effortless.

A small flutter stirred in my stomach, and I quickly turned back to the mirror, pretending to be very focused on my hair.

"Hey," Sawyer said, his voice warm and deep as he approached the counter. "You ready to go?"

Before I could answer, Lisa chimed in. "So, what exactly are your intentions with Casey?" she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

Sawyer chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Just picking him up for some work-related research. Nothing to worry about."

Lisa squinted at him. "Hmm, research. Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"Alright, that's enough," I muttered, stepping forward and gently nudging Sawyer toward the door. "Let's go."

"We'll close up for you," Chris said, grinning. "You two have fun... researching ."

I shot him a look, my face probably a lot redder than I'd like to admit, and quickly ushered Sawyer out of the shop.

First stop was Griffin's bar. It had that kind of homey vibe that made you want to stay for hours, catching up with friends over drinks and greasy food.

I could definitely see myself bringing Lisa and Chris here sometime—maybe as a group thing or like a double date.

Wait. Date? No. Sawyer and I were just friends, obviously. So, it'd just be friends hanging out.

Sawyer waved over a server and ordered a couple of appetizers.

I raised an eyebrow, leaning back in the booth. "Why are we here? Aren't we supposed to be trying out menus at other bars?"

He gave me a lopsided grin. "We will, but first, you've gotta try the food here. Think of it as a baseline."

"A baseline, huh?" I asked, trying not to smile back.

"Exactly," Sawyer said, leaning forward, his eyes lighting up. "So, the loaded nachos? One of my personal favorites—they've got just the right mix of toppings. And the wings? Smoky honey glaze. Trust me, you're gonna love them."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Alright, fine. I'll try the nachos. But I'm holding you responsible if they're not as good as you say."

"Deal," he said, sitting back with an easy smile.

As Sawyer talked about the menu, I found myself glancing toward the front of the bar, my eyes scanning the entrance.

I didn't know how I sensed it, but a shiver ran down my spine just before I even saw him.

Garth.

I couldn't tell if the goosebumps or the sight of him came first. Either way, my whole body felt tense as I instinctively shifted further into the booth.

Sawyer must've noticed. His eyes flicked to me, then followed my line of sight.

His expression hardened the moment he spotted Garth. Without a word, he leaned forward and took my hand, gently leading me out of the booth.

"We should get going," he said quietly, his fingers curling around mine. "The next place fills up fast, and I want to make sure we grab a good table."

Before I could even respond, Sawyer reached over to fix the collar of my shirt, gently flipping it up.

He draped his arm around me, steering me toward the door. It was subtle, but I could tell he was making sure Garth wouldn't see us.

The cool night air hit my face as soon as we stepped outside, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Sawyer didn't say anything as we walked to his car, and I appreciated the quiet. The silence between us wasn't awkward; it was comforting.

But the drive to the next bar felt different. Not exactly awkward, just tense. I couldn't shake the feeling I'd thrown Sawyer off back there.

Had I made him uncomfortable? I mean, we didn't even get to eat the food we ordered because I freaked out when I saw Garth.

I glanced at Sawyer as he drove, his face focused on the road. My stomach twisted a little with guilt. I felt bad that we had to leave early.

What if he'd been excited about showing me those nachos he was talking about? It felt like I had ruined the moment.

When we pulled up to the next bar, I let out a slow breath. It was a smaller place, with dim lighting and cozy booths tucked into corners.

We slid into a booth near the back, and the awkwardness from earlier still seemed to linger. I wasn't sure how to bring us back to where we were before Garth showed up, but sitting in silence wasn't helping.

To break the tension, I decided to bring up something lighter. "You know, the other day at the town meeting, people started talking about sandwiches."

Sawyer glanced at me, eyebrow raised. "Sandwiches?"

I nodded, laughing. "Yeah. Out of nowhere, the whole shifter discussion was derailed by everyone comparing their favorite sandwiches."

Sawyer's lips quirked into a smile, and I could see the tension in his shoulders start to ease. "Small-town politics at its finest."

As we continued talking, the mood between us lightened. Sawyer reached across the table at one point, brushing his thumb over my lip to wipe away a crumb.

The gesture was casual but sent a jolt through me. His hand lingered for a second before he sat back, his foot nudging mine lightly under the table.

Suddenly feeling too warm, I cleared my throat and rolled up my sleeves. As I did, Sawyer's gaze fell on the long scar on my forearm.

"What happened here?" he asked.

I pulled my sleeve back down, trying to brush it off. "Oh, it's nothing. Just an old scar."

But the way Sawyer looked at me told me he wasn't going to let it go that easily. His usual calm had shifted, and I could see a protective glint in his eyes.

I swallowed, feeling a knot in my throat. "It's from my ex. He kind of lost it on me one day. It was stupid, really—just a fight over some dirty dishes." I forced a chuckle, trying to play it off. "Guess I should've just done them, huh?"

Sawyer didn't laugh. His grip tightened slightly on my hand, his calm exterior masking the anger I sensed simmering beneath.

"But it's fine now," I added quickly. "He's got a mate, and I've moved on. I mean, I'm here with you, right?"

Sawyer blinked, his gaze softening as he looked at me. I wondered if I'd said too much.

I meant that I was in a better place now—better than when I first came to Pecan Pines.

But the words hung in the air, as if I were suggesting I'd moved on with him.

I thought about explaining, but before I could, Sawyer's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. Whatever he was thinking felt right, so I chose to let it go.

We hit two more bars before Sawyer brought me back to my apartment.

The night had flown by in a blur. It was hard to believe how comfortable I felt now.

The unease from earlier, when we'd left the first bar because of Garth, had faded, replaced by a warmth I couldn't quite explain.

The alcohol buzzed in my veins, but it wasn't just that—it was Sawyer.

His presence made everything feel a little lighter, a little brighter. I was pretty sure he was the buzz.

As we pulled up to my building, the night air had grown colder. I shivered slightly as I stepped out of the car.

We lingered by the door leading up to my apartment, and I was acutely aware of how close Sawyer was.

The chill bit at my skin, but his warmth made me want to lean in and soak it up.

"So, what did you think?" Sawyer asked.

I glanced at him, pretending to think for a moment. I squinted my eyes, tapping my chin playfully. "About what? You or the food?"

Sawyer chuckled, leaning against the doorframe of my building, his posture relaxed. "Good question."

He smiled—that slow, lazy smile that always made my stomach flip—and pretended to consider his response.

"Well, you did say this wasn't a date, right?" I added with a smug smirk, watching him closely.

He didn't correct me—didn't even acknowledge the tease. Instead, he answered as if I hadn't said anything at all.

"The food."

I grinned, playing along. "Well, the calamari was the best. Crispy, just the right amount of seasoning. The sliders at the third bar? Could've used a bit more kick, but the fries definitely made up for it."

"And the last place?"

"Their wings were solid. Probably my favorite. The sauce had just the right balance of sweetness and heat."

Sawyer nodded thoughtfully, but his eyes softened.

Before I could say anything else, he leaned in so close I could feel his breath—warm and intoxicating.

His earthy, familiar scent wrapped around me, and I felt myself drawn in, as if he was pulling me under some kind of spell.

"You've got good taste," Sawyer said.

I smiled against his lips. "Don't I always?"

His lips brushed mine softly, almost tentatively, like he was testing the waters.

This kiss—it wasn't like the first one in the park. That had been spontaneous, heated, driven by raw attraction.

This one was different. Careful. Gentle. It made me wonder if it had something to do with what I told him earlier.

When he finally pulled away, our hot breath mingled in the cool night air.

I wanted more, but I didn't want to seem like I was just waiting for him to kiss me again. I grinned and said, "The calamari was better."

Sawyer blinked, then threw his head back and laughed—a real, deep laugh that sent warmth surging through my chest.

Before I knew it, I'd grabbed him, pulling him back into me.

This kiss was different. Harder. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer as my fingers threaded through his hair.

He pushed me back against the door, pressing his body against mine.

His hands slid lower, down to my hips, then to my ass, and I felt a shiver run up my spine as his touch sent sparks of electricity through me.

His lips were hot, insistent, and I could feel the fire building between us as our bodies pressed together.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard, the cold air cooling the heat between us just enough.

I pulled back slightly, just enough to whisper, "You coming up?"