This could go one of two ways. One, she could brush it off, and they’d be done talking about it. For some inexplicable reason, she went for number two, number two being compassion. It was like now that she was apparently done being mad at Sawyer, she wasn’t sure what should fill the space the anger had taken up. “Obviously I don’t know what the last ten years have been like, but it seems to me that if you’re overprotective, you have your reasons.”

His eyes did something she couldn’t quite figure out. It sort of seemed like they were ramping up to do that sparkling thing. Which made her panic a little. For many reasons, not least of which was that she didn’t want to drown because his eyeballs had put the whammy on her. So she reverted to option one. “Anyway, it really was no problem. Clara is great.” She clapped her hands. “Okay, if we’re going to do this, let’s do it.”

Maybe he should have thought about this a little more thoroughly. Because the thing was, Sawyer hadn’t had Evie Abbott in his arms for ten years. And now not only did he have Evie Abbott in his arms, she was wet. And wearing a bathing suit.

And doing exactly what he said.

And, stupidly, what he’d said—because he was a damn idiot—was, “Lie back in my arms, and let’s see if we can get you floating.”

She—the actual, physical fact of her in his arms—was a shock. But also not. Because she was, simultaneously, familiar.

He knew, in some kind of bodily, bone-deep way, how to hold Evie Abbott. In general, you had to hold her lightly enough that you weren’t holding her back. But, depending on the circumstance, you might also have to, temporarily, hold her tight. Be a bolster, a place to anchor.

But he had learned this over time, through experience. Through trial and error. Last time they’d been together in the water like this, he’d held on too lightly. They’d been, what? Fifteen? Not dating yet—officially still in the friend zone, but hanging out a suspicious amount. He, of course, had been in love with her.

But then, had he ever not been in love with her?

He hadn’t understood, back then, how deep her fear of water went. He hadn’t held tightly enough. He had learned from his mistake, though. Even though she’d never wanted to try swimming again, there had followed plenty of opportunities to hold Evie Abbott. He had become an expert at holding Evie Abbott.

So much of an expert that he’d known exactly what he had to do to get Evie Abbott to stop holding him.