“Because Buster’s gettin’ tired of me bein’ gone,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“Buster?” she asked, not believing for one second that was his only reason, although it was a good answer, she’d give him that.
“Yes.”
“What else is goin’ on, Sawyer?” she implored.
He didn’t say anything more, but his eyes locked with hers as though he wanted her to read his mind.
“Just come to my place for the night.”
“One night?” she asked, still not able to give in. She knew she was wasting time with all the questions because she would eventually give in. Being with him just felt . . . right.
“We’ll start with one and work our way up,” he replied with a sinful smirk.
Kennedy didn’t answer him immediately, choosing to study him instead. When the silence between them became laced with that sexual tension that pulsed whenever they were close to one another, she finally relented. “Fine.”
“Thank you,” he told her, and although he smiled, Kennedy could see it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something was up, and now she had to figure out what that was.
“Are you ready? Or do you want to hang here for a while?” he asked, once again looking around the room.
“I’m ready.” The only reason she’d come to Moonshiners was to see her father for a few minutes. Okay, so she’d hoped to see Sawyer as well, not wanting their only interaction to be in the bedroom. But, from what it looked like, that was his intention. Since she couldn’t resist him, no matter how hard she had tried, she figured it was best to give in to the inevitable now.
They had gotten to their feet when the front door opened and in walked Greyson. Kennedy noticed immediately that he didn’t look happy and his glare was directed right at Sawyer. Then, as though Sawyer’s tension wasn’t enough, his body tensed immediately.
When he reached for her hand, she was tempted to pull away, unsure what was going on, but then the next thing she knew, he was practically dragging her out of the bar. When they stepped outside, the cool night air chilled her, but so did the way Sawyer was acting. That was when the door opened and she turned to see Greyson following them out.
“What the fuck is your problem, man?” Greyson called after Sawyer.
Sawyer didn’t stop walking, continuing to pull Kennedy toward his car.
“I’ll drive myself,” she told him. She’d only had one and a half drinks over the span of nearly three hours, so she was fine to drive. More than fine actually.
Sawyer nodded, then led her toward her car. She had to tug at him when he began pulling her too hard. “What’s the matter with you?” she snapped, yanking out of his grasp.
“Sawyer, damn it, man. Fuckin’ stop.”
Kennedy spun around to see Greyson standing right behind them, his emerald-green eyes shooting fire. Sawyer didn’t respond, although his chest puffed up as he stared down his friend.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, man? So what? This piece of ass finally gives you the time of day and all of a sudden you can’t even fucking talk to me?”
There was a blur of movement and then Sawyer was slamming Greyson against her car, while she took a step back to get out of the way.
“Don’t do it, bro,” Sawyer growled. “You can be pissed at me all day long, but don’t you fucking dare disrespect her like that. You hear me?”
Greyson’s eyes narrowed, his chest heaving, but at least he had the good sense not to say anything. Kennedy had never seen Sawyer like this. She’d heard plenty of stories, but hadn’t personally witnessed this side of him.
She might not be privy to what had happened between Sawyer and Greyson, but based on Greyson’s out-of-character response, she’d dare to guess that it had something to do with her.
SAWYER WAS TRYING to rein in his temper, but it was quickly getting away from him. He knew Greyson was pissed, but the fact that he’d referred to Kennedy as a piece of ass had Sawyer on the verge of stomping his ass into the ground.
The fact was, Sawyer didn’t want to see Greyson. He didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to listen to his excuses. After what he’d learned from Gage earlier that afternoon, Sawyer wasn’t sure he could trust the guy. And at that moment, he knew he needed time to process the information he’d been given before he did something drastic. Like beat the shit out of the guy who’d been his best friend for damn near all his life.
He knew this was going to happen, which was why he had attempted to get out of there before Greyson showed up. The conversation they’d had earlier, when Greyson had cornered him at AI, hadn’t gone well. He got it. He did. Greyson was his lifelong friend and they’d spent years nailing women together, but seriously, for him to get that pissed because Sawyer informed him that he wasn’t looking for that anymore seemed a little over-the-top. Not to mention, if Greyson had actually done what Gage believed he had, there was nothing Greyson could do or say to make it better. And he damn sure wasn’t going to have the conversation in the parking lot of Moonshiners. With the sheriff inside.
Pushing back from Greyson, Sawyer released him and moved back a few steps. “I’ll see you later.”
Turning back to Kennedy, he reached for her hand, but she didn’t take it. She looked up at him as though he’d lost his mind.
Great. Just how he wanted his night to turn out. As it was, Greyson was livid, and on top of that, Sawyer was a little worried about Brendon. For the past couple of weeks, his brother’s mood hadn’t actually improved—if anything, it’d gotten worse since the last Sunday dinner at their parents’ house. Enough that Lorrie had called Sawyer to discuss what was going on with him. He hadn’t been able to get in touch with Brendon so that they could talk. He got the distinct impression Brendon was purposely avoiding him. Possibly everyone.
Greyson turned and headed back into the bar, casting a menacing look at him before disappearing inside, leaving Sawyer standing in the parking lot with Kennedy.
Sawyer must’ve gotten lost in his own thoughts because it wasn’t until Kennedy touched his arm that he looked at her again.
“What’s goin’ on, Sawyer?” she asked, shivering.
“Let’s go to my place and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He stepped closer to her, grateful when she didn’t try to back away this time. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, burying his face in her neck. It was crazy how wonderful things had been, yet in the last couple of days, so much shit had gone down, Sawyer was more confused than ever. The only ray of hope he’d had was Kennedy, and he desperately wanted to talk to her about what was going on, yet he hadn’t bothered to let her in. Instead, he’d fallen back on keeping things merely physical between them.
It was time to change that.
HALF AN HOUR later, Sawyer was sprawled out on his couch waiting for Kennedy to arrive. Before they left Moonshiners, she had informed him that she needed to go home and get some clothes. His first thought was that she was going to stand him up. Since he wasn’t going to break down and call her—not wanting to sound as needy as he felt—he had no choice but to wait to see whether or not she actually followed through with her promise.
This was something incredibly new to him and maybe that was part of his issue for the last few days. Never—not one single time in his entire life, with the exception of each and every time he’d spent just a few minutes in Kennedy’s company—had he ever anticipated seeing a woman again.
And never had he invited one to his house.
It was strange, he had to admit. Not something he was all that comfortable with, but something he’d come to accept. However, he didn’t find the doubt thing all that pleasant, either. It made him pause when he thought about the women he’d left after one night, never seeing them again. The whole emotional aspect of a relationship—if what he and Kennedy had could actually be considered a relationship—was downright tiring.
But it didn’t mean he was ready to give up.
Quite the opposite.
Two minutes later, there was a knock on his door. With a heavy sigh of relief, he made his way to the door, Buster barking at his feet.
“Chill, man,” he said to the dog as he opened the door and saw Kennedy standing there. She was still wearing her black sweater, jeans, and boots but she still appeared upset, though more beautiful than ever. She stole his breath and he’d seen her only a few minutes ago.
When she came inside, offering him a shy smile before she began looking around, he felt a weight lift. At least a little of the weight that was currently sitting on his chest.
As she always did, Kennedy knelt and gave Buster a head rub, talking to him softly before getting to her feet. It was almost as though Buster had simply needed that little bit of attention, because he snuck off to his bed and curled up, resuming the nap he’d been taking prior to her arrival.
“So, what do you think?” he asked as Kennedy’s eyes combed the room, seeming to take everything in.
His place was much like hers in that he didn’t have a lot of clutter. A cream-colored leather sectional sat in one corner of the large living room, aimed at the big-screen television hanging on the wall above an oak stand that contained his cable box and nothing else. There were two end tables that matched, flanking each end of the sectional. On them were matching lamps that his mother had actually picked out for him years ago. It was no secret that he wasn’t much into decorating, which was why the walls were still the same cream color they’d been when he built the place years ago. The floors were hardwood, with the exception of the three bedrooms, which had an off-white carpet that had been an easy choice at the time.
Watching Kennedy, he waited for her reply.
“Very . . .” She chewed her lip, briefly glancing back at him. “Not what I expected,” Kennedy finally said, still searching the room.
“What did you expect? Maybe a mechanical bull in the middle of the room?” he teased.
“Somethin’ like that. It’s . . . homey, I guess. I’m not sure what I’d really pictured, but this certainly wasn’t it. However, it’s very nice.”
“Thank you,” he replied, taking the bag she still held on her arm. He deposited it in his bedroom, not offering to give her a tour of that room just yet. If he took her there, Sawyer feared they wouldn’t leave. And as much as he wanted to get Kennedy naked, tonight wasn’t necessarily about that. Well, not all about that anyway.
Meeting back up with her in the living room, he noticed she was looking at the framed pictures he had on one wall. They were mostly pictures of the Walkers over the years, some of him and Greyson, but mostly just shots of him and his brothers fishing, hunting, and the like.
“Kitchen,” he told her, taking her hand and pulling her in.
His kitchen was state-of-the-art, although he didn’t cook much there. Not that he couldn’t cook, as he’d proved to Kennedy already, it was just that cooking for one wasn’t all that intriguing, so he usually opted to eat out or head to his parents’.
“Can I get you somethin’ to drink?”
“What are you offering?” she asked sweetly.
Sawyer opened the refrigerator. There wasn’t much there; aside from a six-pack of Heineken, a half gallon of milk, some bottled water, and a twelve-pack of Sprite, he had little else. He held the door open and allowed her to look.
Her laugh made him smile.
“Now, that’s what I had expected,” Kennedy told him. “How about a Sprite,” she told him.
“Plain? Or you want some vodka to go with that?” he offered.
“Plain works.”
Sawyer retrieved two cans of Sprite and then carried them into the living room, Kennedy not far behind him. After toeing off his boots and setting them near the wall, he took a seat on the couch while she continued to look around. He liked that she was showing interest in his place.
When she finally took a seat, she removed her boots, then pulled her feet up underneath her, sitting less than a foot away.
“How are things working out with Jessie?” Sawyer asked.
“Great. I have to admit, I’m gonna be terribly heartbroken when Kylie goes back to work and steals her back. She’s fantastic with people and animals. They all love her.”
“I’m glad she’s workin’ out. From what I’ve heard, she’s lovin’ it. I think she needs the interaction more than she needs to sit in an empty office. Right now, aside from Kylie renovating Cheyenne Montgomery’s place, they aren’t doin’ much.”
“My father’s old house,” Kennedy said. “He was happy it sold. Don’t tell anyone, but I think he was a little starstruck when he found out a famous country singer was purchasing the place. I noticed that they’re painting it.”
“Can you blame them?” Sawyer asked, grinning.
“No. It was blue. I always hated the color of the house.”
“So, things going well for your dad and Mack? They looked a little more . . . friendly tonight.” At least toward one another. As for the way they were responding to him, that was an entirely different story.
Kennedy smiled, glancing down at her Sprite can before setting it on a coaster on the side table. “I haven’t talked to him much about it, but yeah, I noticed the same thing.”
“Does he not want to talk about it?” Sawyer asked, remembering how tight-lipped both Ethan and Travis had been about their preferences for the longest time.
“No more than I want to talk to him about my relationships,” she admitted.
“Plural?”
“You know what I mean. And no, I’m not seein’ anyone else.”
“But you are seein’ me?” he asked, more because he wanted to hear her answer than because he needed to hear it. Or so he told himself.
“If that’s what you wanna call this,” she said, using her hands to motion between them.
“That’s what I’d call it.”
“What about you?” she asked, her expression turning serious. “Are you seein’ other people?”
Sawyer sat up, placed his can on the table closest to him, then turned to face her. “Do you really have to ask that?”
“No,” she said quickly, but followed it up with, “Maybe.”
Sawyer studied her for a moment. “You still don’t trust me, do you, Kennedy?”
He held his breath while he waited for her answer, his eyes searching her face, trying to figure out what she was thinking.
“Yes,” she said on a long exhale. “I do. I . . . trust you.”
“Good.” The relief was overwhelming. “Mind if I ask you something else?”
“I don’t mind,” she told him. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna answer you.”
Sawyer smiled. “Why’d you say yes?”
“In regards to . . . ?” Kennedy’s eyebrow cocked up in question.
“You. Me. Us. What made you decide to give in?”
“I . . . uh . . .” Kennedy looked away momentarily, watching Buster sleeping on the floor.
Sawyer thought for a moment that she was going to dodge his question, but then she said, “I almost didn’t. I mean . . . I didn’t hear from you for a whole month.”
“I know,” Sawyer stated softly. It was his turn not to meet her gaze. “I had some things to work out.”
“And did you?”
“Unfortunately, I think so.”
“Unfortunately? Does it have something to do with Greyson?”
The woman was incredibly perceptive.
“Yeah.” But Sawyer didn’t elaborate. He wasn’t ready to talk about that just yet. “So, did I get to you? Did I finally wear you down?” he asked, hoping to lighten the mood.
“You’re rather persistent, in case you haven’t noticed,” she said, her eyes sliding away from his.
“But you still managed to fend me off for the last eight years.”
“Has it been that long?” she teased, a small smile tugging on the corners of her lips. He liked that she ribbed him even when the conversation had turned serious.
“It has. And ever since th
e day I saw you in the grocery store, I’ve never given up hope.”
“But you had to sleep through half the town to get to this point?”
Sawyer didn’t respond to that. He knew his reputation, but he didn’t make excuses for the decisions he’d made. He had always been safe and completely honest with the women he was with. Never had he led one on.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve said that.”
“No need to apologize. I like honesty.”
“Speaking of honesty . . .” Kennedy met his gaze head-on. “Are you gonna tell me what the thing with Greyson was all about?” she asked, diving right back into the conversation he’d been trying to avoid only moments ago.
Sawyer reached for his Sprite, took another sip, and glanced across the room at the pictures on the wall. As much as he didn’t want to, Sawyer knew he was just going to have to come out with it. Get everything out in the open in order to ensure that his rift with Kennedy’s father didn’t come between him and Kennedy. He would figure out a way to handle Greyson and what he’d done, he had no doubt about that. How, he wasn’t quite sure, but he would come up with something.
“The night your father came to the resort with Mack . . .” Sawyer began, turning to put the can on the table once again. Kennedy’s eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t say anything, so he continued. “Although he blamed me for that information leaking out, it wasn’t me, Kennedy.”
“I know that,” she said. “We’ve talked about this already.”
“We have. But I can’t let it go. Your father’s pissed and he has every right to be. I made him a promise, the same promise we make to all of our guests. But someone violated the trust and shared that information.”
“About Mack?”
“Yeah. Why they just brought Mack into it, I don’t know.” That was something Sawyer was still trying to figure out. Why hadn’t they mentioned that Mack and Jeff had been there together? Why didn’t they elaborate on the details? Those were questions that Sawyer still didn’t have answers to, but he knew he was getting close.
“Do you know who did it?”
“I think so,” Sawyer said, meeting Kennedy’s gaze. “Since that night at Moonshiners when I argued with your father, I’ve been digging into it. I asked Gage to find out who was there that night, what guests were registered, who was in the playroom. He’s spent a lot of time combing through the videos.”
Sawyer Page 20
