Although she did seem to have some interest, no matter how standoffish she was.
She was also a walking contradiction. He could see the way she was hovering on the edge of her seat, ready to bolt. Except, there was something hidden in the soft gray of her eyes. If he wasn’t mistaken, and he usually wasn’t, this woman wanted him, but she didn’t like the fact. Kennedy Endsley was just damn good at dodging him at every turn.
Despite her underlying interest that she thought she was concealing so damn well, he could see her hiding behind that proper, ladylike cloak. The one he wanted to rip right off her, baring her both physically and emotionally so he could get down to the woman beneath. The woman he wanted to make wild with the fiery passion he’d glimpsed on rare occasions. Sure, most of the time, Kennedy’s fiery passion was shrouded in irritation and disgust, but he couldn’t help but find that incredibly hot, too.
“Who’re you waitin’ for?” he asked, knowing good and damn well she hadn’t been waiting for anyone.
“What?”
Exactly.
“Exactly what?” she questioned.
Well, hell, he hadn’t meant to say the word out loud. “Who are you waitin’ for? You said you were meetin’ someone. I want to know who.”
Kennedy’s skeptical glare and the way she shifted her elegant auburn eyebrow up toward her hairline told him that she didn’t appreciate his matter-of-fact question, but Sawyer wasn’t about to beat around the bush. Not with her. He’d spent too long doing that already.
He knew based on their recent interactions that their time together was limited. She generally spared him five, maybe ten minutes tops, before she found a way to ditch him. As soon as she found a legitimate out, she would be gone, leaving him to sit at the table and watch her for as long as he could stand it.
Cocking his head to the side, he waited patiently for her to answer.
And as though the universe was against him, the front door of Moonshiners opened and in stepped none other than . . . Sheriff Endsley.
“Him,” she said suddenly, grabbing that fruity drink she preferred before she slipped out of the booth.
To his surprise, she spared him a backward glance and a ball-shriveling grin that told him to back off or else. He smiled, tipping his beer toward her in salute, and watched as she turned away and moved toward her father on the other side of the room. For long minutes, he continued to watch her, noticing the way she tried not to look back at him, but failed miserably.
“Well, well, well.” A familiar voice caught Sawyer’s attention and had him glancing up to see Greyson sliding into the booth across from him as if he’d been invited.
Taking a pull from his beer, Sawyer stared at his friend and waited for the shit storm that always followed Greyson’s arrival. He was damn near as incorrigible as Sawyer’s brothers.
“She’s still avoidin’ you, huh?”
“I’ll plead the fifth on that one.”
“Well, from what I could tell, you clocked more minutes with her tonight than you have in the entire last three months. I think it might actually be a record.”
The “fuck off” was about to roll right off Sawyer’s tongue when Greyson held his hand up, halting him from talking.
“Fuck off, I know. You tell me that all the time. Which brings me to the reason I’m here.”
Fuck. “Can’t do it,” Sawyer immediately answered, knowing exactly where Greyson was going with this conversation.
It wasn’t a secret that in the past—even fairly recently, if three months ago qualified as recently—he and Greyson shared women. They’d been doing it since they were teenagers and for the most part, Sawyer hadn’t thought anything of it. Pleasure for the sake of pleasure and all that bullshit. But lately . . .
Sawyer found it damn hard to be with another woman and give her the attention she deserved. No matter who he was with, whether she was blond, brunette, or a striking redhead, Sawyer still thought of Kennedy. When he was plunging his dick into a woman, he found himself caught up in the daydream that Kennedy had finally given in to him.
No one deserved that shit, especially not some unsuspecting woman. Because no matter what people said about him, Sawyer gave a shit about the women he bedded. He was up front with them. One night, that was all he had to offer. They could either take it or leave it. Their choice.
Rather than argue with him, Greyson cocked his blond eyebrow and stared him down. From the outside looking in, they would look like two country boys sitting around shooting the shit. Based on the nonverbal conversation they were having at the moment, they were saying enough to write a fucking book.
And as if the stars were perfectly aligned, Kennedy and her father sat down in the booth next to them, which meant this conversation was about to get him in more shit with her than he was already in.
“Tonight,” Greyson said, and the one word spoke volumes.
“What about it?” Sawyer knew this game, knew he had to play along no matter what or Greyson would keep on.
“I’m meeting this chick at the resort.”
“Since when did we start booking rooms by the hour?” Sawyer asked offhandedly.
The smirk Greyson pulled said more than the following words ever would.
“Let me put it this way, this girl’s got more stamina than the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. Trust me, hours ain’t gonna cut it.”
Did Greyson always sound this crass when he talked about women? Hell, did Sawyer?
Shit.
Glancing past Greyson, he noticed the way Kennedy’s head turned slightly, proving that she was certainly eavesdropping even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“What’s her name?” Sawyer asked Greyson.
“Melanie,” Greyson said confidently before taking a long pull of his beer. “Or maybe it’s Sonia. Shit. I don’t know.”
That was exactly what Sawyer thought.
Figuring it was the only way to get Greyson off his ass, he’d have to agree now and come up with an excuse later. Since that was going to only add fuel to Kennedy’s Stay away from Sawyer campaign, he knew he was going to have to double his efforts in the near future. But hell, he’d been doubling and tripling them for weeks now and maybe he was the only one who noticed, but he was making progress.
Minuscule, maybe, but progress nonetheless.
“What time?” he asked.
“Ten.” The excitement that glimmered in Greyson’s eyes almost made Sawyer feel guilty about leading his friend on. Except he knew that Greyson would get what he needed with or without Sawyer there. They weren’t a package deal, never had been, and as of late, Sawyer found himself detaching himself from the threesomes as often as he could.
He wouldn’t deny the fact that he enjoyed a good old-fashioned threesome any way he could get it, but as time passed, the more he thought about it, Sawyer knew it wasn’t going to last forever. One day he would find a woman he wasn’t willing to share with anyone.
Hell, who was he kidding? He’d already found that woman. Just the thought of Greyson putting his hands on Kennedy made Sawyer want to cold-cock him.
“So, you in?” Greyson questioned, putting his beer bottle on the table.
“I’ll catch you later. I’ve got something to do beforehand,” Sawyer lied, seriously beginning to regret the lie.
Greyson nodded, grinned, and then slid out of the booth before making a beeline for the door. Sawyer watched as his closest friend left, and when he glanced back, he saw Kennedy staring at him over her shoulder, the death rays shooting out of her eyes enough to level any other man.
But not Sawyer.
Because little did Kennedy know, but there was only one woman he had any interest in lately. Sure, maybe he would give in to the temptation, but eventually, he knew it would all come to an end. He wouldn’t be able to pretend forever, but tonight, thanks to his mood, Sawyer got the feeling he was probably going to cave. As it was, his balls were nearly midnight blue from wanting Kennedy, and the only relief he’d found was with his
own hand.
As much as he wanted to believe he was strong enough to resist any other woman until Kennedy gave in—if she gave in—Sawyer knew his tendency to pretend she might be inching closer and closer to giving him a chance was just a figment of his imagination. He knew better.
If she gave him the slightest hint that there was even a chance for them, he’d be celibate until Kennedy gave him the green light. However, until that happened, Sawyer couldn’t promise to be a fucking saint.
KENNEDY KNEW THAT she had absolutely no right to be jealous. If Sawyer chose to be with other women, then that was his prerogative. She damn sure wasn’t going to be staking a claim on the biggest playboy to grace their little town. In fact, the idea of him with another woman only cemented her reasons for not wanting him.
He was no different now than he’d been in high school. Sleeping with an endless line of women, one after the other, one night here, one night there, no commitment. He’d mastered the art of the one-night stand, and surprisingly enough, there were plenty of women who had no shame when it came to giving in for just one night.
Kennedy wasn’t that type of woman.
Nor did she want to be.
“You okay?” her father asked, pulling her attention from the conversation that had taken place at the booth behind her. She probably should’ve been embarrassed to have been blatantly eavesdropping, but she wasn’t. She was just pissed.
“Great,” she lied, plastering a smile on her face. “How was your day?”
“Boring as hell,” Jeff stated firmly.
Jeff Endsley was a man who said exactly what was on his mind, regardless of his company. Kennedy had long ago learned that he would tell her what he was feeling. If she asked. That was the key though. She had to ask and she had to keep questioning him or she’d walk away with very little detail as to anything that was going on with him. They were close, always had been, but he wasn’t one to talk much.
Kennedy noticed her father was looking behind her and she briefly turned, looking past Sawyer to the bartender, Mack. Crap. She turned back quickly, realizing Mack was staring in their direction.
“Dad?” she asked, wondering where he’d mentally disappeared to.
“Huh?” he muttered, barely noticing her.
Kennedy snapped her fingers in front of his face, trying to get his attention.
When his gray eyes, so much like her own but only by eerie coincidence, met hers, Kennedy frowned. “What are you looking at?” she asked.
“Nothin’,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. “Give me a sec. I’m gonna get a beer.” Her father stood from his seat and looked back down at her. “Need anything?”
Kennedy held up her half-full glass and shook her head. “I’m good.”
She twisted in her seat, watching her father as he made his way to the bar to get a beer. A beer he wouldn’t drink because he was still on duty for another half hour. No, his need for a drink had nothing to do with thirst and everything to do with the conversation he was now having with the bartender. The first thing she noticed as she watched the interaction between the two men was that Mack, a normally gruff-looking guy on a good day, was now smiling.
Turning back around, she was grateful that she didn’t have to look at Sawyer. He was still sitting behind her. Alone. While she waited for her father, she stared down at the table, so many thoughts running through her head, she could hardly keep them straight. Somehow she managed to sort through them, trying to line up the facts as she knew them. Her father was single, had never married, rarely dated, and when he did, he didn’t bring his partners home with him.
And by partners, Kennedy was referring to men. Her father was gay. Albeit he was as in the closet as they came.
Or was he?
She’d actually been in high school when she found out that her father was interested in men. It had been a complete accident, but she remembered the moment well.
“Where’re you headed off to tonight?” Kennedy asked her father when he traipsed through the kitchen looking more dressed up than usual. She was used to seeing him in his uniform, but certainly not sporting a long-sleeved button-down shirt and . . . slacks. Wow. He was going all out.
“How’s the homework comin’?” he asked, ignoring her question altogether.
Kennedy knew something was up at that point.
“Good. Now your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
“To answer my question. Where are you goin’? You got a hot date or somethin’?”
“Or somethin’. I’ll be out late.”
“Well, I hope you don’t plan to bring any strange women back to the house,” Kennedy teased.
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
Kennedy watched her father for a moment as he finished buttoning the cuffs on his shirt. For grins, she added, “Okay, no strange men, then.”
For the first time in her entire life, she saw her father’s face turn beet red as he stood in front of her. He looked like a kid who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Dad?” Kennedy asked, suddenly realizing that it wasn’t an accident that he looked like that. “Are you . . . ?”
“Girl, I don’t want to talk about this.”
Kennedy nodded, acknowledging the stern tone of his voice. He sighed, which usually meant he had realized he’d been a little harsher than was warranted.
He walked over, kissed her on the forehead, and mumbled a good night. It was when he got to doorway that led to the living room that he turned back to her. “I don’t think I need to explain how important it is that you don’t mention that to anyone. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Kennedy replied automatically. She certainly did. Not that she needed to be told to keep quiet. She was just happy that he was actually showing signs of having a real social life. That was enough to keep her from spilling his secret to anyone.
Another glance over her shoulder had Kennedy smiling to herself. She tried to hide it, not wanting anyone to see. What she had just figured out wasn’t something her father would want anyone to know. Hell, he’d kept his sexual orientation a secret all his life, and Kennedy knew without a doubt he wouldn’t want an entire bar full of people to know that, for the first time in as long as she could remember, their surly, take-no-shit sheriff was showing some serious interest in someone.
Mack the bartender.
Holy crap.
Her father didn’t give her long to ponder her revelation before he turned back toward the booth, his previously sullen expression now gone. In its place was a much more content look that made Kennedy’s heart lurch in her chest.
Her father and Mack.
Could it be?
When her father returned, his face was once again expressionless, the hard mask firmly back in place. “You okay?” she asked, watching him as he lowered himself into his seat.
“Great,” he answered. He was lying, she knew it.
As tempted as she was to turn back around and look at Mack, she didn’t. “Is somethin’ wrong?”
“Nope. How’s work?” he asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.
Kennedy found herself smiling. That was her father, never dwelling on any conversation that centered on him for long. “Good. Kinda busy right now.”
“How come?” Jeff questioned.
“No idea, but we’re booked pretty solid with appointments this week. I was hopin’ to take a few days off, but doesn’t look like that’s an option right now.”
“You hire someone yet?”
“Not yet, no,” Kennedy told him.
Her father was referring to the open position she had for another technician in her veterinary office. Previously she’d had two, but one had up and left without even a phone call a couple of weeks before. She’d known the girl was a little unreliable, but for the last two months, she’d been working out, so Kennedy hadn’t thought much of it. That was until the morning she came in to find that her help had suddenly dwindled from three down t
o two, counting the receptionist she’d recently hired to answer the phones. With the abrupt reduction in head count, that left Kennedy filling in the gaps and her longtime tech, Olivia, putting in more hours than should’ve been expected of her.
“What about you? You hire someone yet?” she asked, realizing her father’s gaze had once again drifted past her.
“Huh?”
Kennedy frowned. “What’s going on, Dad?”
“I told you. Nothin’.”
“You did and I don’t believe you.”
Jeff’s thick, salt-and-pepper eyebrows formed a V on his forehead as he processed her question. “It’s nothin’, I promise. Just work.”
“Somethin’ going on at the station?”
“Same old shit,” he replied.
Okay, so clearly this conversation wasn’t going anywhere.
Her father seemed to realize that as well because he said suddenly, “I should probably head out.”
“Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” Kennedy could see the worry marring her father’s handsome features.
“I’m sure. Just got some shit to take care of,” he replied, getting to his feet and leaving his untouched beer sitting at the table. “You still comin’ by for dinner tomorrow night?”
Kennedy stared up at her father. “Yeah. If you still want me to.”
“I do,” he said softly, his eyes meeting hers and holding for a second.
Holy crap. Was he . . . ?
“Is someone else gonna be there, Dad?”
A real smile turned up the very corners of Jeff’s mouth and Kennedy knew instantly that the answer to her question was yes. And she didn’t even need to ask him who because she already knew.
“Well, then. Of course I’ll be there. Right after work.” She definitely wouldn’t miss a chance to be introduced to someone her father was interested in. In all of her thirty-three years, her father had never introduced her to any man that he’d dated. She’d gotten used to him being single. Now that she thought about it, she really liked knowing her father might’ve actually found someone.
“Good. I’ll see you then.”
Kennedy didn’t move from her seat as she watched her father walk out of the bar. A second later, while she was still examining the door where he had disappeared, she saw Sawyer leave. Her thoughts instantly drifted back to the conversation she’d overheard a short while ago. Sawyer was going to the resort to meet Greyson and some chick whose name was either Melanie or Sonia—not that those names sounded at all similar, so how Greyson hadn’t known was a little on the pathetic side—and whose claim to fame was stamina.
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