Page 19 of Infinite as They Come (Sinful Trilogy #3)

Holly

Me and Sawyer had been sitting in the truck for almost ten minutes now trying to distract ourselves.

We played I spy and very quickly ran out of things to spy.

We went through the glovebox and looked at some receipts Sawyer had kept over the years.

We used my pen to draw stuff on the back of said receipts and tried to get the other person to guess what it was.

I drew a pig, and Sawyer thought it was “that fucking weird green thing from Ghostbusters ”.

We had officially run out of things to do.

“This is gonna be so fucking awkward,” Sawyer muttered. “It was awkward last time. It’s gonna be even more awkward this time.”

“It’ll be strange,” I said, reaching over to rest my hand on his thigh. “Strange and hard and uncomfortable, but…”

“But I need to do this. I want to do this. I have to.” And then he looked over at me. “And I can do it if you’re with me.”

Smiling, I gave his thigh a squeeze, the muscle hard underneath my fingers, even through the thick material of his jeans. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sawyer grabbed my hand, held it to his lips, and gave it a soft kiss.

We hopped out of the car after that, hand in hand as the sun beamed down on us.

It was a nice day out: not too hot, not too cold, with just the right amount of breeze surrounding us for it all to feel perfectly comfortable.

I could see Linda on the bench as we walked.

She spotted us too and stood up fast, a smile spreading across her face as she crossed over our way.

“You guys came!” she said, her voice bright, but I could hear a hint of relief in her words. “Thank you for coming. I… I wasn’t sure if you’d come…”

My chest felt all sore when she said that. I could see the regret in her eyes as they glistened for a tiny second. She blinked hard, like she was forcing the possibility of tears away, and I could hear Sawyer let out a sharp breath next to me. My hand squeezed his tight.

“We said we would, right?” Sawyer said, looking over at me, and I offered him a nod. “We wanted to come. The both of us.”

“Well, I’m so glad you did.” She clasped her hands together. “Spencer wouldn’t stop talking about seeing you. Again. You really are his hero, Sawyer.”

“Oh,” Sawyer said, giving his throat a clear. “Cool. Uh, where is he?”

“Over there in the corner.” She pointed to the left side of the park. “That’s where all the garden beds are for the flowers. Spencer’s in there every weekend planting stuff. Spencer, Sawyer and Holly are here!”

I could see his little head pop up suddenly. He pushed his glasses up his nose and stood up, making a slow walk over toward us. He was a lot smaller than I remembered, with little hands that he used to wipe on the fabric of his shorts as he stood by his mom.

“Say hi,” she said.

“Hi,” Spencer said, voice so soft.

“Hey, Spencer,” Sawyer said lowly.

The sweetest, tiniest smile spread across Spencer’s face. It showed up quickly and disappeared just as fast. He was too cute. All dark, messy hair that was a little on the longer side. Just like Sawyer’s.

“Spencer’s working on some flowers today,” Linda said, running a hand across the top of his head. “Aren’t you, honey?”

“I’m planting new ones. Do…” He tugged at the hem of his T-shirt. “Do you want to see them, Sawyer? We’re planting bluebonnets.”

I looked over at Sawyer, and I could see his eyes soften. “Yeah, I’ll come see them,” he said.

Spencer’s fingers fidgeted together as he moved towards the back of the park with Sawyer. From where I was standing, I could see Kurt there on his knees as he shot me a smile, giving me a wave with his gloved hand .

“Spencer’s been looking forward to this all week,” Linda said.

I smiled, hoping it didn’t look too unsure. “He’s really sweet.”

“He takes after his father. I love that about him. That he’s so gentle,” she said, her tone all wistful and tender as she took a seat on the bench. “Some people like to take advantage of that.”

Slowly, I joined her, hands patting down the back of my dress as I sat down by her side. “Some boys were being really awful to him the other day. The day we first met him.”

Linda’s eyes shut as she gave me a little nod. “Oh, we know all about that. Spencer’s so… He’s so sweet, so kind, but other boys see him as an easy target. We told him a hundred times that we’ll pick him up from school, but he’s eight now, and he wants to be a little independent.”

“Well, he seems to be good with gardening.” I looked over to the back section of the park where Sawyer and Spencer were deep in conversation. Spencer’s fingers kept fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt, all nervous and awkward. So cute.

“He loves this sort of stuff. He watched one gardening show when he was five, and now we can’t go a day without him having dirt on his hands.”

I smiled at the visual. “It’s good he has a hobby, I guess. It’s better than playing video games all day.”

She let out a little laugh. “That’s true. We… We didn’t really get to talk much the other day. I’m sorry. It was a little intense.”

Lips pressed together, I gave my head a shake. “Don’t apologize for that.”

“I wasn’t really sure how that day would go. I wasn’t even sure if Sawyer would turn up. He…” Pausing, her lips trembled that tiny bit. “He told me the only reason he could do it was because you were there with him. So, thank you, Holly. For being there for him.”

My breath suddenly felt trapped in my chest when she said that.

I could almost imagine the scene, could almost hear Sawyer’s voice, all rough and deep and honest, admitting that to his mom.

He had told me that earlier. That it was me getting him through it, but it still made my heart tighten to know that he trusted me with something so important to him.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” I whispered .

“I never got to see Sawyer at Spencer’s age,” she said, voice wavering a little. “I left when he was so young. When he just started school. I missed out on so much. What was he like? In school, I mean? Or did you two meet in New York?”

“Me and Sawyer already knew each other before New York,” I explained. “I’m from Dallas too.”

“Oh, where abouts? I still remember that city like the back of my hand.”

“Highland Park.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh my. That’s a lot different to where I grew up. Sawyer too…”

“Yeah, Sawyer always liked to remind me about that,” I said, a little smile tugging at my lips. “We moved to New York when I started studying at Columbia. We’re kinda having a little break before we go back to the real world.”

“Oh, some break.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry. I ruined that.”

“You didn’t. Not at all. I’m glad this is happening. I mean, not all the painful stuff. I’m glad… I’m glad you and Sawyer found each other again.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “Me too. I wish so bad that I had been there for him. I missed it all, didn’t I?”

“You can learn about him now, though. There’s still plenty of time for that.”

She gave me a little smile before suddenly perking up in her seat. “Have you ever seen Sawyer’s baby photos?”

It only hit me then that I hadn’t ever laid eyes on a single one.

Sawyer didn’t exactly have any. I could see the excitement in her eyes as I nodded, her hand diving into her bag to pull out her wallet.

She slid out three photos, all perfectly flat and crisp, not a single crease or tear in them.

She handed me the first one and I instantly recognized Linda looking back at me.

Her face was a little rounder and her hair was longer and curlier, falling down effortlessly against her shoulders.

She looked so young. Maybe around twenty, maybe my age, and I couldn’t even imagine having a baby so young, but she seemed far too happy in that photo that it seemed like that thought didn’t cross her mind even once.

Her smile was so big. Proud and radiant, her dimples on show as she held a little baby in her arms. My eyes lowered to that baby—eyes shut, cheeks all soft and chubby, a tuft of dark hair on its head.

“Sawyer was only a few weeks old then,” she said, her words all laced with a tone I could only describe as longing. “Not even a month old. He was so little. I swear, I held him twenty-four seven. Every minute of the day I had him in my arms. I didn’t ever want to let go…”

I stared at him. At a little baby Sawyer who had no idea what was about to happen to him. I couldn’t even stop the tears from forming. “So cute,” was all I could manage to say, my thumb running across the smooth photo.

“And there’s this one,” she said, handing me another photo. “He’s older here, obviously. He just turned three. We went to the park that day. It was such a good day. Just me and him…”

A smile spread across my face as I took in the image.

All of that dark, messy hair had come in by then, the strands in his face, his green eyes bright and big.

He was standing in front of a tree, his hands behind his back as he shot the photographer a big, crooked grin.

His smile was too sweet, too innocent. It tugged at my heart before I could stop it and found even more tears welling in my eyes.

“And this one,” she said, giving me the last one. “His first day of school. One of the last photos I took of him…”

I held the photo tight between my thumb and forefinger.

There Sawyer stood. A little bigger than the previous photo, that dark hair all neatly swept back.

He had his little T-shirt tucked into some shorts and I smiled at the idea of his mom getting him all dressed up for school, for his first big day.

There was some dullness in his eyes in the photo.

Maybe it was just him not being ready for such a big moment on that day, or maybe he had already witnessed things no one his age—or any age—should have been around.