Leather and Lace

by Jessie Evans

  “Either that, or take the singing to the next level.”

  “Really?” Mia’s eyebrows crept higher on her forehead.

  She’d been after Bubba to consider singing professionally for years—he had an amazing voice, and was the kind of tall, dark, delicious cowboy female country music fans would go crazy for—but he’d always dismissed her suggestions. Bubba’s granddad had been a moderately successful country music star with a few top one hundred hits, but he’d also been a womanizer and general asshole. He’d left Bubba’s grandmother dirt poor, raising five kids, and running a ranch on her own when he took off with his backup singer, never to be heard from again, and no one in the Lawson family had forgotten about it.

  Bubba had been raised by people who distrusted work that wasn’t done with your hands, and who shunned fame to the point that Bubba’s mother had refused the San Antonio Art Museum’s offer to include her pottery in a Texas Artisans show, even though it would have boosted sales for her business. Mia had always tried to be understanding of Bubba’s reasons for wanting to keep his singing a purely recreational activity, but she couldn’t deny she was excited to hear he was considering taking his music to the next level.

  “I’m proud of you.” Mia clapped him on the back as they slid onto stools at the end of the bar farthest from the stage. “And I’ll help any way I can.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” Bubba said, grinning as he motioned for the bartender to bring them two of their usual—margaritas on the rocks, no salt, with an extra twist of lime. “Because I’ve got a favor to ask.”

  “Shoot.” Mia faced him, turning her back on the stage, where one of her mom’s old friends was singing an off-key version of “Stand by Your Man.”

  “I want you to give this Sawyer guy a chance,” Bubba said, wiping the smile from her face. “I talked to him Monday night at the Blue Saloon. I think he’s worth your time, and he seemed to—”

  “How is me going out with Sawyer Kane doing you a favor?” Mia asked, anger creeping into her voice. “Seriously, I wish all of y’all would keep your noses out of it. Tulsi’s been riding my ass for days.”

  “I’m not riding your ass,” Bubba said. “I’m saying I would feel better about gigs that would take me out of town for a night or two if I knew you were on the mend.”

  “I’m fine!” Mia rolled her eyes, ignoring the soft voice inside of her that insisted she wasn’t fine, that she was still hiding from life, and turning down the chance to be with a man who seemed as kind as he was gorgeous. “I don’t need you, or anyone else, to babysit me. And I certainly don’t need a boyfriend, or a booty call, or…whatever, to make my life complete.”

  “I never said you did.” Bubba sat up straighter on his stool, pinning her with that stubborn look she knew so well. “And I don’t care if you and Sawyer go on one date, or get married and have ten kids. That’s none of my business. But when I see you turning down a guy who seems to have everything going for him, I start thinking you’re going to be alone for the rest of your life, and I—”

  “Since when did you become a dating expert?” The bartender delivered their drinks and Mia scooped hers up immediately, taking a long swallow of the sweet and citrusy margarita before setting it none-too-gently back on the bar. “Maybe I’m looking for something different in a man than a beefcake with giant muscles, who looks good in a cowboy hat. Ever think of that?”

  “Who is also a decent guy,” Bubba added. “Good at his job, obviously into you, and only in town for a limited time. It’s not like dating him will lead to having an ex you’ll have to run into at the grocery store every other day. Even if your gram hires Sawyer’s company for the restoration job, he’ll only be around for a year or so at most.”

  “I only dated Paul for a year,” Mia said. “That’s plenty of time for things to get crazy, believe me.”

  “See, this is what I mean.” Bubba took a drink of his margarita, shaking his head as he swallowed. “The crazies are few and far between, Mia. You have to stop looking at every man as a potential Paul, and start looking at them as normal guys. A guy who might just want to get in your pants, or who lies about how much he can bench press, or who likes drinking with his buddies more than drinking with you, but not a guy who’s going to try to strangle you in your sleep.”

  Mia refused to flinch. She didn’t want Bubba to know that she hadn’t reached the point where she could hear that kind of thing thrown around and not feel like she was back in her bedroom in L.A., waking up with Paul’s weight on top of her.

  “And I like Sawyer,” Bubba continued, oblivious to how tight Mia’s throat had suddenly become. “We talked a long time Monday night, and I got a solid vibe from him. He seemed into you, but not in a creepy way. I think he’d be a good guy to start with, you know, to get your feet wet again.”

  Mia forced down a healthy swig of margarita. “So you’re saying I should use him as a rebound guy?”

  “I doubt he’d care.” Bubba ran his hands over his hips, making a sexy-pouty face that was ridiculous. “I wouldn’t mind if a pretty girl decided to use me for my sexy body.”

  Mia snorted. “Joke all you want, but you could have any girl in this town, and how long has it been since you’ve been on a date? Five months? More? Are you in any position to tell me I’m not getting out there enough?”

  Bubba shrugged. “Yeah, well, maybe I’ll do something about that. After I meet with my new manager Friday night.”

  Mia’s jaw dropped as she reached out to slap his thick bicep. “Shut up! You already have a manager?”

  Bubba’s answering grin was bashful, and one of the cutest things Mia had seen in weeks. “I signed with her last weekend. She’s setting up some auditions for me Saturday in Austin, trying to get me a few regular weekend gigs. It’s a long way to drive, but I figure it will give me time to finish listening to those Stephen King short story audiobooks Mom bought me for Christmas.”

  “Aw, that is so great.” Mia slapped his arm again. “I’m so happy for you, I may have to keep slapping you all night.”

  Bubba laughed as his eyes drifted over her shoulder toward the door.

  “Seriously,” Mia added. “I think this is going to be great, Bub. I see big things in your future. Are you still going to remember the little people when you’re rich and famous and all the girls are throwing their bras at you while you’re up on stage?”

  “Yes,” he said, grinning as he eased off his chair. “And I’m going to remember that you didn’t share any of your bras when we pantied downtown, and keep them all for myself.”

  “Ha ha.” Mia frowned as Bubba backed away from his stool. “Where are you going? I thought you had a firm rule about not signing up for karaoke before eight o’clock.”

  “Don’t kill me,” Bubba said. “This is for your own good.” He turned and walked away.

  Before Mia could follow him, and demand to know what he’d done “for her own good,” six foot three inches of studly cowboy circled around her chair to lean his forearms on the bar next to her.

  It was Sawyer Kane, looking good enough to sprinkle with salt, lick clean, and follow with a tequila chaser.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “This seat taken?” Sawyer’s voice vibrated across her skin like a physical caress, making it impossible not to think about the moment when he’d called her beautiful, seconds before he’d tugged her shirt down, baring her breast to the warm afternoon sun.

  Mia cleared her throat, pushing the erotic memory from her mind. “You got to Bubba, I see.”

  Sawyer nodded, a serious look in his eyes. “I had to know if it was me, or if you ran this fast from all the boys.”

  “Boy isn’t the word I’d use to describe you,” Mia said, twirling her straw around in her half-empty drink, not sure whether she was flattered or unnerved by Sawyer’s attention.

  “Me either,” he said. “I’m not a boy, and I’m not the kind of man you have to worry about. With me, what you see is what you get, and what you say
is what I’ll do.”

  “Really?” Mia arched one brow. “I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

  “No¸ you said you needed space, and asked me to lock up. So I gave you your space, and I locked up behind me when I left,” Sawyer said in a reasonable tone that made it hard to argue with him. “But, if you tell me to leave you alone, I will. I was just hoping maybe that kiss on Monday was still on your mind, because I sure as hell can’t get it out of mine.”

  Mia took a deep breath, chewing her bottom lip as she let her eyes do a slow sweep up and down. In dark jeans and a black tee shirt that clung to his drool-worthy chest, Sawyer was looking even more devastatingly handsome than usual. The hint of scruff on his cheeks and on the top of his usually bald head gave him a rough-around-the-edges look that made Mia’s pulse spike, and every other female head in the joint turn to gape.

  A glance down the bar revealed that no fewer than five women between the ages of twenty-one and forty had turned away from the stage and leaned back on their stools to get a better look at the stranger who had wandered into The Ticklish Iguana. Their expressions ranged from envious to downright combative, and if Mia turned Sawyer loose, he’d be surrounded like chum in a shark tank in ten seconds flat. Sawyer was the stuff wet-panty dreams were made of, and she had a feeling she’d regret it if she sent him on his way. It wasn’t like legions of sex gods were throwing themselves at her feet.

  Mia knew she was prettier than your average twenty-something, but she’d never been a man magnet. She was the kind of girl who ended up being one of the guys, a girl too outspoken, stubborn, and over-the-top for your average cowboy. Bubba said she scared the weak of spirit, but Mia had a feeling she came across as high maintenance, and not in the way most men could get behind. She wasn’t needy or co-dependent, couldn’t be mollified with flowers or sparkly things, and refused to play any boy-girl games. She wanted something real, and she wouldn’t settle for anything less. Most men sensed that in the first ten minutes, and went looking for a less challenging woman not long after.

  But Sawyer seemed not only interested, but downright determined to win a place on the stool next to her. She should at least give him a chance, a real chance, one that involved her head as well as her libido.

  “Three questions each,” Mia said, heart beating faster as she dipped a toe into the dating pool for the first time in twelve months. “If either of us don’t like one of the other person’s answers, I walk out of here, and you mosey on down the bar to get tackled by one of those women drooling into their cocktail napkins while they check out your ass.”

  Sawyer’s lips curved, but he didn’t turn to look over his shoulder. His eyes stayed glued to hers, and Mia wasn’t surprised to find that simply making eye contact with this man felt vaguely sexual. He had an intense personal energy, and there was no doubt she was attracted to him physically, but she needed more than that to put an official end to her dry spell.

  “You first,” she said. “Ask me anything. But something that matters.”

  Sawyer nodded, his eyes narrowing as he thought. “Okay. True or false: As long as you’re in a relationship, it’s okay to listen to your partner’s phone messages, or scroll through his texts, even after you’ve been asked not to.”

  Mia shook her head, knowing exactly where she stood on that question after last summer. “False. It’s never okay to invade someone’s privacy, especially after being asked not to. Trust is important, and so are boundaries. A person who doesn’t understand that isn’t ready to be in a relationship.”

  Sawyer nodded, looking satisfied by her answer. “I agree.” He paused to ask the bartender for a draft lager before turning back to Mia. “Your turn.”

  Mia shut one eye, pinning him with her best pirate glare, pleased when the ugly face made his smile wider. “Okay, so…say I stop wearing makeup today, and never put on so much as a speck of lip gloss ever again. Can you live with this decision long term?”

  “Of course, you’re beautiful with or without makeup,” Sawyer said, sending a silly rush of pleasure through Mia’s chest. “That shouldn’t count as a real question. Try again.”

  She pulled in a deep breath, struggling to think of something serious. She’d started this game, but it felt intimate to ask real questions.

  But then, that was the point, wasn’t it?

  “It’s our third date, and we end up at your place.” Mia’s tongue slipped out to dampen her lips as she fought to ignore the butterflies beginning to flutter in her belly. “We haven’t done anything serious yet, or spent the night at each other’s place, but I ask to sleep on your couch so I won’t have to drive forty-five minutes across town to my apartment. What do you do?”

  Sawyer frowned. “This is your real question?”

  “Yes, it is,” Mia said, sitting up straighter on her stool and downing the rest of her drink.

  On their third date, Paul had insisted she go home if she didn’t sleep in his bed, saying he was too attracted to her to sleep in the same apartment if they weren’t going to do more than sleep. It was one of the first times she’d excused something that felt wrong, and she was curious to know how Sawyer would handle the same situation.

  Sawyer lifted one shoulder. “Okay, well…I would make up my bed with fresh sheets, put you in it, and crash on the couch myself. And if I got up before you, I’d make you coffee.”

  Mia’s lips stretched into a delighted smile. She knew he could be blowing smoke up her ass, but the no-nonsense way he’d answered felt real. “Really? You swear?”

  “I swear.” Sawyer leaned closer, wiping a few drops of moisture from her top lip. “I love your smile. It’s…uncomplicated.”

  Mia’s brows drew together, but the rest of her face refused to cooperate with her frown. “Thanks. I guess.”

  Sawyer winked. “It was a compliment. Trust me.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Mia swept a finger across her lip, but it didn’t banish the memory of his touch. “Your turn, question number two.”

  “I take my time before telling you about my past,” he says, holding her gaze, vulnerability in his eyes that made it clear this second question meant something to him. “Not because I want to hide from you, but because it’s not something I share with many people, even people I care about. Do you resent me for keeping a few secrets, or do you understand?”

  Mia reached out, covering his hand with hers. The familiar electricity leapt between them, but this time there were softer emotions there, too. “I understand. It was like you said the other day, sometimes the past needs to stay in the past.”

  He turned his hand over, until his palm kissed hers and his fingers curled around her hand. “Your turn.”

  Mia left her hand in his, ignoring the curious look Ugly Ross shot her as he moved past them to join Bubba and their other friends at a table near the stage. It felt good to hold Sawyer’s hand, and this conversation was too interesting to come up for air just yet.

  “What’s your dream for the future?” Mia asked. “The big, pie-in-the-sky dream, if there were no extenuating circumstances and nothing holding you back.”

  Sawyer hesitated for a moment, and Mia could see him debating how honest he wanted to be.

  “The whole truth,” she warned. “I’ll know if you’re fudging. I have a sixth sense about things like this.”

  “All right.” Sawyer’s eyes dropped to their joined hands. “I’d liked to have a family someday, and be the kind of father I wish I’d had. The kind my kids can count on, no matter what.”

  His answer made her chest ache. “That’s pretty sweet.”

  Sawyer glanced back up, meeting her eyes. “But I won’t be settling down any time soon. I just got out of a bad relationship. I’m not looking for forever right now, if you know what I mean.”

  “Me too.” Mia laughed. “I mean, me either. My last relationship was bad, too, and I’m not looking for forever. I’m up for dating and having a good time, but no emotional heavy lifting.” She took a breath,
her nerves finally giving way to excitement. “Would you be interested in something like that?”

  Sawyer grinned. “I would be very interested in something like that. I’d also be interested in taking you to dinner tomorrow night after we finish our tour.”

  “I have a better idea,” Mia said, shifting closer, relishing the clean, masculine scent of him. “Third Thursdays are live music nights at the farmer’s market. Bands come to play, vendors sell food and beer, and they set up a dance floor in the middle of the square. It’s a good time, even if you don’t dance.”

  “Who says I don’t dance?” Sawyer asked, playing up the offense in his tone.

  “I’m sorry,” Mia said, grinning up at him. “So are you saying you’d like to take that swagger of yours to the dance floor with me tomorrow night?”

  “Sounds perfect,” he said, leaning in until she could feel his breath warm on her lips. “It’s a date.”

  A date. The words sent a hint of anxiety flashing through her chest, but then Sawyer’s lips were on hers and he was kissing her with that gentle, insistent passion that made her body light up and stars flash behind her eyes and her anxiety faded away.

  When Sawyer was this close, it was hard to think about anything except how much she wanted him even closer.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Nothing puts a damper on a perfect afternoon like the discovery of a dead body.

  Sawyer cussed as he lifted the edge of the tattered shirt covering the skeleton’s chest. He shifted his flashlight back and forth, getting a better look at the body at the bottom of the cavern beneath the old jailhouse. The bones were old and the flesh had been eaten away by insects, but the blade wedged between two of the skeleton’s ribs made it pretty clear the man’s death hadn’t been an accident.

  “You okay down there?” Bubba called down from fifty feet above, where he and Mia had helped set up a pulley system to lower Sawyer safely down into the cave.