Chapter 3

Nora

”Hand me that hammer,would you, Nora?” Sawyer”s voice rolls over the field like distant thunder, casual yet somehow commanding. I”m squatting beside a pile of weathered wood planks and rusted nails, trying to appear more useful than I feel.

”Uh, sure,” I say, fumbling with the heavy tool before passing it to him. My hands are already blistered, my experience limited to the theoretical knowledge from YouTube tutorials I crammed last night.

”Never taken a swing at a fence post before, huh?” He doesn”t look up from where he”s steadying a post, but his teasing tone is as clear as the blue Texas sky above us.

”Does it show that much?” I ask, attempting to match his playful banter.

”Only a little.” Sawyer shoots me a wink, his sun-kissed arm muscles flexing as he positions the new section of the fence. ”You”re doing fine. Just watch and learn.”

”From the master, right?” I quip back, earning a grin that could probably outshine the sun.

”Exactly. Don”t worry. I”ll make a ranch hand out of you yet,” he chuckles, sending a warm ripple through me.

It’s funny. He hired my dad, but he’s spent more time training me than Dad.

Of course, it’s my own fault. I know that. I saw him the other day and offered to help him with some things. But what girl could blame me? The man is the definition if h-o-t, and I don’t know. I just want to be around him.

I try to focus on handing him the tools he needs, but it”s hard not to get distracted by the way his shirt stretches across his back, outlining every move he makes. The fence might as well be a million miles away for all the attention I can muster.

”Here, hold this steady for me,” Sawyer instructs, motioning for me to come closer.

Our bodies align as I press against the wooden rail to stabilize it. And that”s when it happens—Sawyer reaches past me, his rough fingers grazing my forearm. Was it intentional?

A spark of electricity zips through my body, lighting up paths I didn”t even know existed. I swallow hard, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

”Oops, sorry about that,” he murmurs. His eyes lock onto mine, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

”Fine, it”s...no problem,” I stammer, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks.

”Good to know,” he replies softly, his voice dropping an octave. There”s a charged silence, filled only by our breathing and the distant call of a hawk overhead.

The tension between us thickens, the air practically vibrating with unsaid words and unexplored possibilities. Every casual touch sends a jolt through me, awakening a longing that I”ve never allowed myself to fully acknowledge.

”Looks like we”re making progress,” Sawyer finally says, breaking the moment as he steps back to admire our handiwork.

”Thanks to the teacher,” I manage to say, throwing in a smile to cover up the turmoil inside.

”Anytime, Nora,” he says, his gaze lingering a bit too long to be purely professional.

As we continue working side by side, his teasing remarks take on a new edge, each word laced with an undercurrent of something wild and untamed.

And I can”t help but wonder what it would be like to let that current sweep me away.

* * *

The sun beats down, fierce and relentless, as Sawyer wipes his brow with the back of his hand. He catches me eyeing the shimmering creek beyond the fence line and grins.

”Whatcha say we take a break, Nora? That water”s callin” our names.” His voice is smooth, like gravel washed over by a gentle stream.

”Are you serious?” I ask, my eyes widening at the thought of the cool water against my skin.

”Never been more serious in my life.” He starts toward the creek, unbuttoning his shirt as he goes.

I follow, my heart racing. The idea of swimming with Sawyer sends a thrilling shiver down my spine. We reach the bank, and I watch, almost in a trance, as he peels off his shirt, revealing a chest that”s all hard planes and taut muscle. He dives in, splashing up a crystal spray, and beckons me with a devilish smirk.

”Come on in, the water’s perfect!”

I hesitate only for a second before kicking off my boots and pulling off my shirt and jeans, revealing the plain bra and panties I wear underneath. I tell myself that it’s no different from wearing a bikini.

His gaze sweeps over me, lingering just long enough to ignite a fire deep in my belly.

The cold rush of water envelopes me as I plunge in, and a gasp escapes my lips. Sawyer is beside me in an instant, his hands finding my waist as he steadies me. Our laughter mingles, echoing off the surrounding trees, as we splash each other playfully, the rest of the world melting away.

”Gotcha!” I squeal, sending a wave of water his way.

”Is that how it”s gonna be?” he challenges, his eyes flashing with mischief.

”Maybe,” I tease, trying to swim away, but he”s quick, capturing me in a gentle but firm grip.

”Caught ya,” he whispers, and for a moment we”re just there, floating, the tension between us as palpable as the droplets on our skin.

Eventually, we clamber out onto the bank, breathless and dripping. As I wring out my hair, Sawyer”s already digging through his backpack.

”Here, put this on,” he says, offering me his shirt. ”Gotta protect that soft skin of yours from the sun.”

”Thanks,” I murmur, taking the fabric from him. It”s warm from his body, smelling faintly of sweat and something uniquely Sawyer.

”Need help?” he asks, a hint of huskiness in his voice.

”Sure,” I reply, my breath hitching.

He steps behind me, and as he helps guide my arms through the sleeves, his fingers brush lightly against my bare skin, sending ripples of desire cascading through me. I tilt my head back slightly, catching his eye.

”Perfect fit,” he murmurs, his hands resting on my shoulders a moment longer than necessary.

”Feels like you’re still holding me,” I whisper, turning to face him.

”Wouldn”t be the worst thing,” he says, his voice low as his gaze drifts to my lips.

”Definitely not the worst,” I agree, my heart thundering against my ribcage, aware of the growing heat between us even as the shirt hangs loose and open around my frame.

”Better button up,” he suggests, though his hands make no move to leave me.

”Maybe in a minute,” I reply, realizing that with every word, every touch, I”m coming undone under the spell of Sawyer Blackwood.

He finally steps back and clears his throat. “What do you say we grab a bite to eat? My treat for working you so hard today?”

All I can do is nod.

* * *

I slide into the booth across from Sawyer, the worn red leather creaking under me. The diner is a cozy, neon-lit slice of Americana with the scent of fried food lingering in the air like a savory promise.

”Thanks for inviting me,” I say, picking up the laminated menu. It”s sticky and has probably seen better days, but it feels warm, familiar.

”Least I can do after you slaved away fixing fences with me,” he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners. ”Besides, I heard how much you love pie, and they have the best pie in the world hear.”

”Guilty as charged.” I grin. ”But if we”re talking about hard work, you”re the one who should be getting the royal treatment.”

”Watching you handle those tools today? That was my treat.” His voice is playful, but there”s a heat to it that makes my cheeks flush.

”Careful now, don’t make me think you enjoyed the view more than my stellar handiwork.” I tease, but inside, my stomach flutters like a field full of butterflies taking flight.

”Can”t it be both?” He leans forward, forearms resting on the table, bringing his face closer to mine.

”Maybe,” I concede, allowing the word to linger between us, heavy with possibility.

The waitress comes over and we order, exchanging smiles and small talk until she leaves. Then, it’s back to the dance of our conversation—flirtatious, charged. With every word, I feel myself being pulled deeper into whatever this thing is with Sawyer Blackwood.

”Enjoy your chicken fried steak,” the waitress says as our meals arrive, ”and don”t forget to save room for dessert.”

”Sweetheart, I always have room for dessert,” Sawyer replies, but he’s not looking at the waitress. His gaze is heavy on me and burning with something intense—something I can’t even identify.

”Good to know,” I murmur, my heart pounding in sync with the jukebox”s rhythm.

After dinner, he insists on paying, brushing off my protests with a wave of his hand. ”This is just part one of tonight”s thank-you,” he says, leading me outside.

”Part two?” I ask, curious and a little breathless as we step out into the cool night.

”Yep. Follow me.” He heads towards his truck, and I trail behind him, the gravel crunching beneath our boots.

We climb into his truck, the interior smelling like leather and something distinctly masculine. I shiver as he starts the engine, the rumble vibrating through the seat and into my bones.

”Where to?” I ask, as we pull away from the diner.

”Somewhere quieter,” Sawyer says, casting me a sidelong glance that sends a rush of heat swirling in my belly.

”Quieter than this?”

”Trust me,” he murmurs, and I realize that I do. Implicitly.

The drive is silent except for the sound of tires on the road and the occasional hum of the engine. His hand rests casually on the gearshift, inches from my thigh. I”m hyperaware of the space between us, of the warmth emanating from his body, of the charged air that seems to crackle with electricity.

”Look at that sky,” he says, after what feels like an eternity or maybe just a moment. He pulls off onto a dirt road, the truck bouncing slightly as we head into the open landscape.

Stars pepper the black canvas above us, so bright and numerous they look like they”ve been sprinkled by a divine hand. We”re moving away from the rest of the world, into a place that feels like it belongs only to us.

”Beautiful,” I whisper, not sure if I”m talking about the stars or the man next to me.

”Nothing compared to you, darlin’,” he replies, his voice low and rough.

I turn to look at him and find his gaze already on me. There”s a promise in his eyes, a silent vow that sends another shiver down my spine.

”Stop it,” I say, but it”s half-hearted, and we both know it.

”Stop what?” He feigns innocence, but the corner of his mouth quirks up in a knowing smile.

”Making me feel like...like...”

”Like you”re the only person in the world?” he finishes for me, pulling the truck to a stop.

”Exactly like that,” I confess, my pulse racing.

The truck rolls to a stop, and the world outside is a still painting of moonlight on sagebrush and rock. Sawyer kills the engine and the silence rushes in, as vast as the desert stretching out around us.

”Come on,” he says with that half-grin that”s all trouble, and I”m unbuckling before my brain catches up with his intent.

We”re stepping into the cool night air, the kind of quiet where you can almost hear the stars twinkling if you listen hard enough. He grabs my hand, leading me to a spot where the earth dips and the sky opens wide.

”Wow,” slips from me because there”s no other word for it. The heavens are spread above us like a dark velvet sheet dotted with endless diamonds, and I”m caught, breathless.

”Beautiful, isn”t it?” Sawyer”s voice is low beside me, sending ripples across my skin.

Before I can respond, he”s pulling me close, his arms wrapping around me in a move as smooth as the slide of silk. Our bodies press together, and I can feel every line of his muscular frame against mine. His heat seeps into me and I”m melting, melting...

”Look up,” he whispers, and I tilt my head back against his shoulder, gazing up at the cosmic dance above. His chest rises and falls against my back, and I”m caught in the rhythmic tide of his breathing.

”Ever seen anything like it?” he asks, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, and I shiver.

”Never.” The word is barely a breath, but it”s true. The stars have nothing on the man holding me.

“I imagine this right here is why my grandparents chose this place to build,” Sawyer admits softly.

I don’t speak, sensing he’s going to say more.

”They built the ranch with their bare hands,” Sawyer explains, pride lacing his words. ”And every generation has added to it.”

”Tell me their story,” I urge, hungry for more than just the history.

As he recounts tales of love, hardship, and triumphs, I see a new layer to Sawyer Blackwood—a man deeply rooted in legacy, yet standing right here with me, vulnerable and open. Each word is a window into his world, and as he shares them, it”s like he”s giving me pieces of his soul.

”Your turn,” he says after a while, eyes searching mine.

”Me?” My life seems small compared to the epic saga he just told me.

”Everyone”s got a story, Nora. What”s yours?”

”Nothing special,” I demur, but Sawyer shakes his head.

”Come on, darlin’. Surprise me.”

So, I start with the little things—my favorite books, the summer I learned to swim, the scar on my knee from a bike accident. And Sawyer listens, really listens, his gaze never leaving mine. In this quiet night, filled with the echoes of the past, we”re weaving a new narrative, one that”s just ours.

We talk until I don’t know what time it is, and I realize this is no longer just about flirtation or games.

This is something real, something that could last longer than a summer on the ranch.

”Thank you,” I whisper, touched by the trust he’s shown in sharing his family”s legacy with me.

”Thank you,” he replies, his hand finding mine across the table, warm and certain. ”For listening.”

I look up at him, and there it is.

That look he gives me, that super intense look that makes my heart want to skip a beat.

His lips part, and am I imagining it, or is his head moving closer to mine?

A thousand thoughts run through my mind.

Yes, I want this. I want him to kiss me.

But he’s my boss. He’s so much older than me. He technically hired my dad. Could this get my dad fired?

But then it all fades away when Sawyer’s lips finally touch mine.

My eyes slip closed and fireworks explode behind my eyelids.

Sawyer”s lips are firm yet gentle, coaxing mine open with a practiced finesse that leaves me reeling. His tongue dances with mine, tasting of cinnamon and something quintessentially him.

I melt into him, my body aching for more of this contact, this connection. His hands roam down my sides, leaving a trail of fire everywhere they touch.

Wetness pools between my thighs, and I whimper into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Sawyer murmurs before he pulls me tight against him, “Do you know what you do to me, little girl?”

Before I can answer, he captures my lips again, his tongue swooping back into my mouth to kiss me more deeply this time.

I can taste the want in his kiss, the desire burning like a sun going supernova. His hands move from my sides to my lower back, pulling me closer till we”re as pressed together as two bodies can be without becoming one.

His fingers dig into my flesh through my shirt, and I can”t help but arch into him, inviting him to touch me more. I whimper when he takes the invitation, his hand slipping beneath my shirt to make contact with bare skin.

His calloused palm is warm against the small of my back and I shudder, half because it feels so damn good and half because it”s Sawyer...Sawyer Blackwood, doing this to me.

”Is this...okay?” he rasps out between kisses, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. His pupils are blown wide with desire and I know mine must mirror his own.

”Yes,” I gasp out, ”Yes, it”s beyond okay.”

He smiles then, a wolfish grin that has me thinking of wild, untamed nights under these very stars. He crushes our lips together once again and I let myself go further into him.

His hands start moving lower now, tracing the curve of my hips before gripping my thighs. He lifts me up as if I weigh nothing and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist.

My skirt rides up dangerously high from the movement and I can feel his hard length against me even through our clothes. It makes me heady with desire, knowing that I”m the one who did this to him.

”You”re shaking,” he whispers against my lips and indeed I am—not out of fear, but anticipation. His words are sandpaper against my heated skin, and I crave more.

”I...I...”

But he silences me with a kiss, his lips moving over mine, frying every thought in my brain. His hands explore my body in ways I”ve only ever dreamed of, lighting up nerve endings I didn”t know existed.

”What do you want, Nora?” He breathes into my ear, his voice husky with desire.

”You,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. It feels like the biggest secret I”ve ever told. But it”s not a secret at all. it”s the truth. A truth I can no longer ignore or hide from.

Sawyer doesn’t say anything for a moment, just holds me tighter. Then he lets out a low growl that sends shivers down my spine and grinds his hips against mine—a crude but oh-so-enticing movement that has me gasping aloud.

”I’ve wanted to hear you say that from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he admits hoarsely.

My heart flutters at this admission.

His mouth descends on mine again and the conversation ends there—replaced with moans and gasps and whispered promises between shared breaths. His hands are everywhere, claiming what’s his—marking me as his own.

He slips my clothes from my body until I’m standing naked before him, and then he stands there and stares at me slack-jawed.

“More beautiful than I even fucking imagined,” he rasps out as he grips his cock roughly through his pants. “Fuck, I could come just looking at you, baby.”

My heart races at his admission, and then the next thing I know, I’m in his arms again.

His lips press against mine with a fervor that sends shivers down my spine and liquid heat pooling between my thighs. His hands are everywhere, kneading my breasts, squeezing my ass, sliding over every inch of me like he”s trying to memorize the feel of my naked body against his.

“God, Nora,” he pants into my ear, “I”ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”

The words send a thrill through me. I arch into him, whimpering when his lips close around a nipple. His hand slides down my belly, inching closer and closer to the aching space between my thighs. My hips buck against him as I plead for more.

“Please,” I whisper, my fingers tangling in his hair as he lavishes attention on my breasts. “I need...I need...”

“Shhh, darlin’,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice thick with lust. “I know what you need.”

Then his fingers are there, parting my folds and dipping inside me. I gasp loudly at the sensation, reeling from the intimate touch.

“You’re so fucking wet for me.” He growls.

His fingers move expertly, stroking and teasing and creating a storm of pleasure that has me crying out. My hips roll into his touch, seeking more, always more.

”Fuck, baby,” he groans, ”You like that?”

”Yes,” I pant, ”Don”t stop.”

I hear his chuckle just before he dips his head to replace his fingers with his tongue. The sensation is almost too much and I grab onto his hair as if it’s my only lifeline. His lips and tongue work magic, pulling moans and cries from me till I’m shaking with the intensity of it all.

Sawyer brings me to the edge, then backs off just enough to keep me hovering there—a quivering mess under the open sky.

“You’re fucking beautiful when you come apart for me,” he rasps against my skin. “I want to see your face when I fill you up for the first time.”

Roughly, he pulls me back into a standing position, spinning me around till my naked body is pressed against the rough bark of a tree. I gasp, both in surprise and anticipation.

His strong arm wraps around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His hard cock presses against my ass through the fabric of his jeans. He grinds against me in slow circles, making me writhe and whimper for more.

”I want you now,” he growls in my ear, ”Tell me you want it too.”

“Yes… oh yes…” I moan out.

He hastily unzips his jeans freeing his substantial length. A moment later, he slides inside me slowly.

I cry out at the delicious stretch of him, my body seeking to accommodate his size. Every inch of him fills me, burning and perfect.

His hands grip my waist, his movements unhurried as he slides in and out. His breath is ragged as he buries himself within me again and again.

”My Nora,” he rasps in my ear, ”So tight...so perfect...mine.”

I can only whimper in response, lost in the sensation of him moving within me. The world narrows down to just us, just this moment. His cock thrusting into me, our bodies joined.

I”m close again, so fucking close I can taste it. I whimper, grinding back against him and he groans deep in his chest, thrusting harder.

With a final cry, I come apart around him and Sawyer follows a moment later. He buries his face into the crook of my neck as he empties himself inside me. Our gasps and panting fill the silence that follows.

”I...I didn”t know it could feel like this,” I admit when I finally find my voice.

He chuckles against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. “Believe me, darlin”. This is just the beginning.” He promises with another roll of his hips that has me gasping again.

And just like that, under the stars with Sawyer Blackwood – rugged rancher and my boss – I lose myself.

“You’re mine now,” Sawyer whispers against my lips before he plants another branding kiss on my lips again.