by Jessie Evans
“It isn’t me I’m worried about.” The intense look in Sawyer’s eyes sent a not-unpleasant shiver up her spine. If she didn’t know better, she’d think this man cared about her. And if she didn’t know herself better, she’d think maybe she would…like that.
Maybe even like it a lot.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said, stepping closer to him, until their body heat met and mingled and the smell of his spicy aftershave and her lavender lotion combined to create a fragrance heady enough to make her dizzy. “Don’t worry about anything tonight, okay? Let’s just have fun. I could use a little fun.”
“All right.” Sawyer cupped her face in his hand. “How about we start with eating an obscene number of fish tacos? The smells coming from that booth over there are going to have me drooling in about ten seconds.”
Mia smiled, pulse leaping as the rough pad of his thumb brushed against her cheek. “Sounds perfect.”
She looped her arm back through his and they strolled to take their place at the end of the taco line. When they reached the front, Sawyer ordered a dozen, making it clear he was serious about that obscene number. Mia teased that his eyes were bigger than his stomach, but she was forced to eat her words when Sawyer scarfed down eight tacos to her four, and swore he still had room for dessert.
“I don’t see where you put it all.” Mia tossed her napkin into the cardboard box their tacos had come in with a satisfied sigh. “I’m not that much shorter than you, and I’m stuffed to the gills.”
“Fast metabolism.” Sawyer grinned, his hazel eyes crinkling at the edges in a way she found unreasonably sexy. “Good for eating lots of tacos, and burning through alcohol at a faster rate than average. But don’t worry, I’m not going to challenge you to a drinking contest.”
Mia’s eyes narrowed. “You realize that just speaking those words is a challenge, right? And I don’t take challenges lightly.”
Sawyer’s grin turned wicked around the edges. “I had that feeling about you. How about we agree no more than four shots each? Anything more is asking for trouble.”
Mia knocked his hip with hers as they started through the rows of booths. “Maybe I’m in the mood for trouble.”
Sawyer’s smile became a smolder that sent a rush of awareness zinging from Mia’s lips all the way down to her toes. “Me too, but I prefer trouble that doesn’t end with anyone feeling sick the next morning. But I could be up for trouble later, if you play your cards right.”
Mia was about to mention that Bubba had a poker game going on Thursday nights, if he was literally up for “playing his cards right,” but decided against it. For the first time since she returned home, she didn’t want to spend a night hanging out with friends. She wanted to be with Sawyer, and she wanted him all to herself.
They left the food vendor area, made a beeline through the arts and crafts booths with their heads down—Lula had a booth where she sold her ceramic dolls, and she still hadn’t forgiven Mia for her suspected role in the pantying of her garden gnomes—and arrived at the adults only corner of the market. They showed their licenses to the man checking IDs, and held out their arms for orange bracelets before moving down the row of booths where beer brewers, wineries from farther north, and a tequila distillery had set up makeshift bars to give free samples and sell their spirits.
“You’re only twenty-eight,” Mia observed before handing Sawyer back his I.D. as they wandered past the long line for the micro-brewery’s booth.
Sawyer slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close as a man who’d already had a few too many stumbled past them. “You sound surprised.”
“I am.” Mia leaned into him, loving the solid feel of his chest against her shoulder. “You seem older.”
“Too much time in the sun,” Sawyer said. “Gives you wrinkles.”
Mia nudged him with her elbow. “No, not the way you look. You’re just…mature, I guess.”
He smiled. “Thanks. But seriously, once I moved in with my grandpa, I don’t think I spent more than fifteen minutes inside at a time. Even in the winter. I was too busy helping out around the ranch, then riding over to my uncle’s place to work on the ghost town. He was still working on Carol’s Gulch back then, and I couldn’t get enough of that place.”
Mia looked up at him, eyes wide. “You’re kidding! I didn’t know your uncle owned Carol’s Gulch. My grandmother visited years ago when it was still under construction. She said it inspired her to want to do something with the ruins on our property.”
Sawyer looked surprised. “Really? Uncle Felix didn’t do many tours back then. Only people who called with special requests. I bet he’d remember your gram if they met again.”
“Maybe they will, if you two get the job,” Mia said. “I, for one, have my fingers crossed.”
Sawyer’s arm tightened around her waist, making Mia feel warm all over before a single drop of tequila had slipped down her throat. “Me too. I’d like to stick around for a while.”
“Oh yeah?” Mia turned to him as they eased up to the bar surrounding the tequila tent.
“Yeah. There’s this fascinating redhead I’d like to get to know better.”
Sawyer’s arms went around her, and Mia was suddenly surrounded by powerfully muscled man, but the sensation didn’t trigger a spark of anxiety. Being pressed up against him set her body to purring with anticipation, making Mia wish they’d skipped the tequila booth and gone straight back to her place. She was going to invite him up to her apartment for a drink, and whatever else that might lead to. She knew it the moment he pressed a kiss to her forehead before fishing out his wallet, and paying for two shots of the añejo tequila.
Having made the decision while she was sober, Mia felt free to let go, and allow the tequila to work its magic upon the last of her inhibitions.
“Salt?” Sawyer asked, holding up the shaker between them.
“Definitely.” Mia lifted her wrist, holding Sawyer’s gaze as she dragged her tongue across the skin beneath her palm, not missing the heat that flickered in his eyes.
“I never thought I’d be jealous of a wrist,” he murmured as he sprinkled salt on her damp skin.
Mia grinned. “You like to be licked?”
“If you’re the one doing the licking.” He wet his own wrist with a sensual flick of his tongue that set Mia’s heart to racing. The man certainly knew what to do with that tongue during a kiss. She could only imagine what delightful things he could do when set free to explore the rest of her body.
The thought made her head spin even before she and Sawyer swept the salt from their wrists, downed their shot of tequila, and popped their lime slivers into their mouths.
“Smooth.” Sawyer pulled the wedge from between his lips. “You hardly need the lime.”
“Very smooth,” Mia agreed, but she was already having a hard time concentrating on the conversation. All she could think about was getting Sawyer home, and getting him out of that button up shirt that suddenly looked too tight across the shoulders. Surely he would be more comfortable out of that shirt…and those jeans…and whatever else he was wearing beneath them.
By the second shot of tequila, Mia could barely follow Sawyer’s story about his friend from Wyoming, who had brought home a bottle of tequila with a rattlesnake in it, and kept it in his pantry to scare his kids away from his wife’s chocolate stash. By the time they carried their third shot to a bench near the old theater, which now showed dollar movies on its single screen, neither of them had much to say. At least not with their mouths.
Sawyer’s eyes were saying plenty—promising long, hot kisses, and hotter hands running all over her body, leaving pleasure in their wake—and Mia had a feeling hers were doing the same. For the first time in her life, she was doubt-free about heading to the bedroom. She didn’t know if it was because she’d been deprived of human touch, or that she’d had another year to grow older and more sexually frustrated, or that Sawyer wasn’t long-term-relationship material that made her feel free to le
t down her guard, but Mia was ready. She was ready to be alone with the gorgeous man straddling the bench in front of her, and even five more minutes surrounded by the rest of the Lonesome Point community seemed like a waste of precious time.
“What do you say we have our fourth shot at my place?” Mia asked, as they dropped their empty glasses back to the bench between them.
“I’d say your place sounds perfect,” he said, his low voice vibrating across her skin, making her nipples pull tight inside her bra. “But I’d rather skip the shot.”
“Backing out of the challenge?” Mia braced her hands on the bench as she leaned closer, bringing her lips within inches of his.
“I’d just rather be sober,” he said, heat in his gaze. “If I’m lucky enough to get you out of those clothes, I want to remember every second of it.”
Mia’s tongue slipped out to dampen her lips. “You have a way with words, cowboy.”
“I also have a way with my hands.” The words didn’t come out sounding like a line. They sounded like a statement of fact, a promise Mia wanted him to keep.
Without another word, she took his hand, and started across the market, bypassing the dance floor, aiming them both toward her apartment, where they could finally be alone.
CHAPTER TEN
Sawyer held Mia’s hand as they left the sights and smells of the Farmer’s Market behind. They strolled along the sidewalk toward her shop, fingers tangled together, taking their time, as if they both wanted to draw out the moments before they reached her place. Sawyer knew he did. It had been a long time since he’d wanted a woman as much as he wanted Mia, and prolonging the anticipation was only going to make satisfaction that much sweeter.
He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand, marveling at how soft her skin was, knowing the rest of her was going to be every bit as soft. He couldn’t wait to explore every inch of her. He wanted to blow her mind, worship at her altar, and make her feel so good she couldn’t remember a single reason to feel bad. He always did his best to satisfy his lovers, but with Mia he wanted to give her more than pleasure or release. He wanted to give her a taste of oblivion, to make her come so hard she forgot not only the stress of the day, but the misery that had sent her running back to Lonesome Point in the first place.
Bubba hadn’t been forthcoming about Mia’s ex—he’d simply said that a bad breakup had led to her leaving Los Angeles after getting her master’s degree—but Sawyer could read between the lines. Bubba’s story, combined with the way Mia had run from their kiss, was enough to confirm Sawyer’s suspicion that someone had hurt her.
Some fucking bastard who didn’t deserve to be walking the same earth as the woman beside him.
Sawyer had only known Mia five days, but he already knew that she was a sincere, honest, fun-loving woman who was devoted to her family and would do anything for a friend. She was something special, one of those people who illuminated the world around them.
But Sawyer knew that bad people didn’t care how many lights they snuffed out on their way to getting what they wanted.
The thought made him think of Sarah. Even after all these years, he’d never forgotten his sister’s bright green eyes, her infectious laugh, or the way her hugs always made a bad day better. Sarah had been the brightest light in his universe, the only person he could count on after their mother died, and their father started spending all his free time with his club. Sarah had practically raised him. She’d stayed home from school to take care of him when he was sick, read comic books aloud to him for hours after their crappy excuse for a television exploded, and let him curl up in bed with her when he was scared of the dark—which was almost every night.
Sawyer had grown into a man as tough as anything lurking in the shadows, but he’d been a typical eight-year-old kid. The kind who preferred to sleep with the closet light on, and who ran to hide in the woods behind the house when his dad’s loud, scary friends came to visit. Sarah was the only one who had made him feel safe, and she had been as innocent and good as any person Sawyer had met, before or since.
But his father’s enemies hadn’t hesitated to snuff her out, taking her life before she’d had a chance to grow up to become the amazing woman Sawyer knew she would have been.
His sister had fallen prey to people who couldn’t appreciate the light one beautiful soul could bring to the world, but Mia had escaped from her dangerous situation. She’d made it back to Lonesome Point, where people who loved her were devoted to helping her heal. He was grateful for that, and determined not to bring any more pain into her life.
He paused at the base of the steps leading up to the shop, hanging back when Mia opened the door and started inside.
When she realized he wasn’t beside her, she turned to face him, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. “Something wrong?”
He searched her face in the glow of the moon, the soft light making her look even sexier than she had in the yellow bulbs strung above the farmer’s market. “I really like you. A lot.”
“I like you, too,” she said, her full lips curving at the edges.
“But I meant what I said before, about not being ready for anything serious.” The words tried to stick in his throat, but Sawyer forced them out. He owed Mia honesty, and he wanted to make damned sure they were on the same page before things went any further. “I want to make sure that’s still okay. I wouldn’t ever want to hurt you.”
Her smiled faded, but her eyes remained soft, unguarded. “You won’t hurt me.” She ambled down the stairs, stopping on the stair above his, putting them face-to-face and their lips inches apart. “I’m fine with a night, or a week, or the summer…however long feels right. And when it stops feeling right, we go our separate ways, no anger, no regrets.” She lifted her arms, twining them around his neck, sending arousal surging through his body. “This is exactly what I need, Sawyer. You are what I need, and I can’t wait to touch you. Everywhere.”
Any hope of resisting vanished as that last word feathered between her tempting lips. Sawyer closed the distance between them, claiming her mouth as his arm wrapped tight around her waist, crushing her body to his. Her breasts flattened against his chest and her body heat caressed him, making his pulse spike and a moan sound low in his throat. He wanted this woman—badly. And he was past ready for them to be alone in a room with a bed, a door, and a lock to keep the rest of the world out.
Sawyer lifted Mia off her feet, carrying her through the shop entrance before kicking the door shut behind them.
“Up the stairs,” she whispered against his mouth. “Bedroom’s up there.”
“You taste fucking amazing.” He hitched her thighs around his waist and took the stairs two at a time. “How can you taste this good after tequila and tacos?”
“How can you lift me like I weigh ten pounds?” she asked, breath rushing out as his fingers dug into the strong muscles of her ass. “God, I love your hands. I couldn’t stop staring at them today.”
“I love your ass,” he said. “And your legs, and your shoulders in that tank top, and the freckles on your nose. I’m a fan of every inch of you.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” she said, thighs tightening around his hips. “Right here. Blue door.”
Sawyer opened the door at the top of the stairs, and moved into the shadowed room. He smelled vanilla and lavender, a feminine scent that was sexy and homey at the same time. He peered over Mia’s shoulder, spotting a bed with ruffles cascading down the sides, and an odd-looking rug warming the hardwood floor beside it, but he didn’t stop to flick on the light to get a better look at Mia’s choice of decor. The moonlight streaming through the window cast enough light to see the heat in her gaze as he laid her down on the bed, and that was all the illumination he needed.
“I want to taste every inch of you,” he said, working open the buttons on his shirt. “Head to toe.”
“No toes,” she said, pulling her tee shirt over her head, revealing a white lace bra a shade lighter than th
e creamy skin of her breasts. “I’m not a foot girl.”
“You will be when I’m done with you.” Sawyer reached down, capturing her wrists when she reached for the close of her bra. “Don’t. That’s my job.”
“Then is this my job?” She twisted her wrists free and made quick work of the remaining buttons on his shirt before pushing his button-down off his shoulders, revealing the skin-tight undershirt beneath. “After the day we’ve had, I think you deserve to be comfortable.”
“Thanks,” he said, biting his lip as her fingers trailed back and forth across his chest, her teasing touch making his nerve endings sizzle.
“You’re welcome, but I think we can make you even more comfortable.”
“You think?” His breath caught as her hands slipped beneath the bottom of his shirt, smoothing up his bare stomach. Her fingers were cool, but they trailed fire through him, making his pulse race and more blood rush between his legs. At this rate, he’d be hard enough to demolish condemned buildings in a single blow before they were anywhere close to the main event. He had to slow this down, and make sure Mia was the one with her head spinning.
He lifted his arms, letting her strip his undershirt away, but the moment his head was free of the fabric, he pushed her back onto the bed, covering her body with his own.
“My turn,” he said, kissing his way down the graceful column of her throat as his hand slipped behind her back, popping open the close on her bra. He guided the lingerie down her arms, and drew back to drink in the view.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, running his palms up her ribs to cup her fullness, proving that she was the perfect handful. In the pale moonlight, he couldn’t make out the tempting peach shade of her skin, but he could see that her nipples were pulled into buds that practically begged for his touch, and Sawyer wasn’t the type to let a cry for attention go unanswered. He brushed his thumbs across her erect tips, his cock twitching in his jeans when she gasped and arched into his hands.