Making my heart race and my lungs expand deeper than they had in weeks.
She was here.
I positioned myself between her legs, the movement as natural as breathing, but straightened my arms to look at her there.
Hair carelessly splayed across the pillow. Eyes bright. Full lips waiting and tempting.
Mine.
“I love you.”
Rae’s head moved in a faint nod, her eyes following as her hand lazily swept up my arm and across my chest, stopping over my pounding heart. “I know,” she said on a whisper, and her stare met mine. “I didn’t want to love you, Sawyer Dixon, but I do.”
I leaned down to take her mouth, groaning when she immediately opened to the kiss. Her tongue met mine in an intoxicating dance I would never get enough of, and she arched against me in a silent plea.
My hand trailed down her body, focusing on her curves as I searched for the bottom of her shirt.
Her chest hitched and a breathless “please” passed from her lips to mine when I lifted her shirt enough to lower the band of her pants.
I wanted to tear them the rest of the way off her.
I wanted to devour her and claim her.
I wanted to sink into her and spend days in bed with her . . . but not here.
A smile threatened at her needy whimper when I took her bottom lip between my teeth. After placing a soft kiss there, I begged, “Let me take you back to my house.”
She sank against the bed with a heavy exhale, her full lips falling into a pout as she covered the rest of her face with her hands, groaning as if she’d forgotten where we were. Once she was looking at me again, she said, “It’s Sunday. Your family is downstairs, expecting to have dinner with you soon.”
I started to say I don’t give a shit, but her brows lifted in protest and she hurried to speak before I could.
“You care. I know you do.”
“Not when you just came back,” I countered softly.
Her features softened and she reached up to weave her fingers through my hair, pulling me down for a quick kiss. “But I am here, I’ll be here. You told me how important tonight is, you aren’t missing that for me.”
Before, I would’ve hesitated. I would’ve talked myself out of telling her a half dozen times before finally, dreadfully, revealing what I wanted. Now?
“I want you there,” I said easily. “I won’t make you go anywhere you don’t want to, but I want you with me. That means places with my friends and Saturdays at the ranch—helping Hunter feed the animals and fix shit before we eat.” A soft laugh left her as I continued, “That means falling asleep next to you and lazy mornings in bed. That means Sunday dinners with my family.”
Her eyelids closed as she nodded.
“Scared?”
She grabbed one of my hands and placed it between her breasts so I could feel the fierce pounding there. “Absolutely.” Her eyelids opened, revealing warmth and love and certainty. “Let’s go downstairs and have dinner then.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” One of those husky giggles I loved so damn much escaped her. “First time you’ve ever tried to keep me from eating.”
I let my stare bounce across her face, the corner of my mouth tipping up as I did. “Just not sure I should let you out looking like this.”
Everything about her froze, making my grin widen. “Like what?”
“Told you smearing your lipstick was my new favorite thing.”
A laugh burst from me when she shoved me away from her. “It is not smeared, you ass!”
I pulled her on top of me before she could get far, trailing my knuckles along her jaw as I studied her mouth that I’d known from the first day would be my ruin.
Looking into her eyes, I silently thanked God for bringing her back to me and murmured, “Fucking favorite.”
Epilogue
Sawyer
I pushed through the doors to Brewed, my gaze automatically searching out the girl I knew would be there, waiting for me, and started in her direction when I found her at one of the tables.
Thick-framed glasses on, stare locked on her screen, fingers flying across her keyboard.
“Sawyer.”
My attention shifted to where Emberly was sliding a mug across the counter, and I cut across that way just as Rae sat back, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she studied her screen.
Mine.
Four months since she’d come back.
Four months of days of falling even more in love with her alluring, carefree spirit and learning everything about each other. Nights of unrestrained passion and falling asleep with her in my arms. And I still didn’t know how to make myself believe that she was really here, that she was mine. That I wasn’t going to wake up tomorrow to this only being a dream.
“For my girl?” I asked Emberly when I stepped up to the counter.
She lifted her brows in a knowing look. “Been a few hours since she had one, figured she was needing it.”
I gripped her wrist when she started rocking back to leave, my voice lowering. “You good?”
Emberly’s eyes rolled. “Well, I think Kip somehow tried to marry us last night, but, you know, other than that . . . I’m great. Shut up,” she snapped when my chest moved with silent laughter.
“Best man,” I said. “I’m totally ready for it.”
“Never gonna happen. Not with him,” she said adamantly.
I lifted the cup and took a step away, a smirk shaping my lips. “There’s always Brady.”
Her eyes widened in horror and she hissed a curse, glancing around to make sure the man in question wasn’t within hearing distance. “Also something that’s never gonna happen. Like, ever.”
“What kind of best-man best friend would I be if I didn’t help you find a way out of a lifelong commitment you want no part in?” At her murderous glare, I said, “Kip really needs to know that this marriage won’t be happening.”
“I told him that we’re not actually a couple . . . again,” she said, exasperation lacing her words. “He thinks I’m joking every time.”
“Could it be because you’re still sleeping with him?” I bunched my shoulders up in a shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Hate you,” she mumbled.
“Love you too.”
I turned, my amusement fading to something more primal when my focus returned to where Rae was reading whatever was on her screen.
We’d fallen into an easy routine not long after she’d come back. Weekend meals with different members of my family, her baking with Savannah and the kids throughout the week, hanging out with friends when possible, and this.
I worked whatever jobs people had for me that day, and she worked at Brewed until I was done and ready to go home.
Home . . . because she’d finally conceded a few weeks after coming back that going slow was pointless when nearly every night ended with us at my place rather than Blossom, where she’d been renting a room again.
She’d let me know by moving in while I was working with the help of Savannah and my mom.
I bent close to pass my mouth across her jaw as I placed the next fix of her preferred addiction on the table, lips curving into a smile when she made that humming sound that drove me wild.
One of her hands curled around my neck, keeping me in place for another few seconds before releasing me. Eyes bright and playful as she cupped her fingers around the mug I’d set in front of her and drew it close, savoring the warmth and smell the way she always did no matter how many coffees she’d had that day.
“Thank you,” she murmured as I took the seat opposite her. “You done?”
“For now,” I confirmed, reaching forward, hand turned up in silent plea for one of hers. “What are you working on?”
Instead of resting her hand in mine, she drew her bottom lip into her mouth in an attempt to hide a wicked smile and reached for her laptop. “Oh, just a little something. Actually, I was hoping you could give me your thoughts.”
/> She turned the computer so it was facing me and set her elbows on the table as she brought the mug to her lips, those eyes of hers dancing as she watched me, waiting.
Curiosity built, but I resisted the urge to ask and shifted my stare to the screen in front of me, to what I assumed was her manuscript.
Jesus Christ.
A choking noise escaped me and I glanced at Rae again, a curse slipping free at her mischievous look. Clearing my throat, I leaned forward, blocking anyone from seeing what was on the screen and, with one last glare that promised Rae would pay in so many ways for this, went back to reading.
With each line, my breaths came a little faster, a little rougher. With each vivid description, it became harder to stay there and not haul Rae to the closest room with a locking door.
I’d read some of her books. I knew what she wrote and how she wrote. This wasn’t her characters.
This was an insanely detailed scene that was purely us.
Tearing clothes and searching hands.
Whispered pleas and erotic moans that drove me crazy.
The way I worshipped her and the way she brought me to my knees.
The distinct way we came together . . . fighting to get closer, get enough of each other, as if we ever could.
By the end, my hands and jaw were clenched tight from the strength it took to remain in that chair.
At the bottom, she’d typed: I think we could be better than my imagination, what about you?
“Home.” The word was pure gravel and revealed exactly what I wanted to do to her.
“Now?” she asked coyly as she closed her laptop.
“Right now.”
I stood, fingers anxiously twitching as she took her time putting away her things. From the wicked way she smiled at me, she knew exactly what she was doing.
Bending over, I rested my hands on the table and whispered, “I can make you wait too, Rae. I can leave you begging.”
Her breath caught, her eyes darkening with want before she began fumbling with the rest of her stuff, nearly dropping everything in her rush.
Leaving the barely-touched coffee on the table, she stood from the chair and reached for my hand. The instant her fingers slipped between mine, I began pulling her away, only to come to an abrupt stop a foot later.
“Sawyer,” she said uncertainly after steadying herself from stumbling into me.
But I didn’t respond.
Like a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown on me, I just stood there, staring.
The sound of shattering ceramic caught my attention, slowly forcing my gaze that way. My stare staying on the man in front of me for as long as possible before snapping toward that sound.
To Emberly.
To where she stood. Eyes and mouth wide with a mixture of disbelief and shock and hostility.
I only took a moment to register her emotions that loosely matched mine before focusing on the guy watching me.
Dark hair disheveled. Jaw clenched tight. Blue eyes blazing.
Anger, fear, and grit collided and billowed from him as if he hadn’t been the one to leave us over nine years ago.
“Cayson,” I said, his name coming out in a whisper of disbelief.
“Saw,” he murmured, his attention darting to Rae and then around the café, to where everyone had gone silent. “Can we talk?”
“Get out.”
One of Cayson’s eyebrows ticked up, a slow exhale releasing from him as he sent a cold look in Emberly’s direction.
“Get out,” she repeated, voice trembling. “You’re not welcome here.”
“Emberly . . . good to see you haven’t changed,” he said mockingly as he started for the doors.
A harsh breath burst from me when he walked out, and I automatically took a step in that direction.
I glanced from Rae to Emberly, who was shaking, her chest heaving as she tried to control her breathing, then turned back to my reason for being, cupping her face in my hands.
“Rae—”
“I have Emberly,” she said quietly, assuring me.
Pressing a hard, quick kiss to her lips, I bolted out the doors after my brother. Afraid that, if I didn’t, we wouldn’t see him again for another nine years.
“Cayson,” I barked when I found him walking away.
He stopped.
His neck rolling with his agitation before he turned on me.
“Nine years—more than that,” I said through clenched teeth. “Why now?”
He spread his arms out before letting them fall. “I thought you’d at least be happy, fuck.”
“Nine. Years,” I seethed. “I’ve had to watch Mom break for nine fucking years over you. So, tell me why you’re back now.”
I’d wanted this since the day he’d walked out.
Now that he was here, I was just as pissed as I was thankful that he was standing in front of me.
He watched me with a defiant expression before explaining, “There isn’t work on the rig right now. Almost everyone got sent home until further notice.”
“That isn’t the first time that’s happened since you left.”
“I know, Sawyer. I know.” He forced his hands through his hair, mumbling a curse as they fell heavily to his sides. “After what happened with you a few months ago, I felt like I was failing you. Like I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. So, I’m here.”
I fought back the urge to yell at him and took calming breaths. When I spoke, my tone was soft but lethal. “We needed you nine years ago. As for failing me?” A harsh laugh punched from my chest. “First, like you just said, that was months ago. Second, there’re two other brothers you’ve forgotten about completely.”
His expression hardened, the same way Beau’s and Hunter’s did whenever the others were mentioned.
To the three of them, they all only had one brother: Me.
And it was all due to nothing. Misplaced blame that had stemmed from hurt and anger over Cayson leaving and Dad dying.
Only difference between them and me? They were too prideful to step up and say they were sorry for the shit we’d all said back then. Instead, they’d let walls build between them for nearly a decade, acting like the others were the reason for the distance and bullshit.
That’s all it was. Bullshit.
“Even if there isn’t work right now, there still has to be work somewhere down there,” I said, once again challenging his reason for coming here. “And what about your girlfriend?”
The tick in his jaw and the way his eyes flashed with pain and resentment when I mentioned his girlfriend was enough of an answer but left me with even more questions. Still, he bit out, “There isn’t work. We all got sent home.”
I nodded, knowing now wasn’t the time to ask, and figuring the combination of the furlough and whatever happened with his girlfriend was why Cayson was finally standing in front of me again.
“I have waited for this moment for a damn long time,” I began. “But I’m gonna need time to get past that you weren’t here when you should’ve been.”
“Understood.”
“You have somewhere to stay?” At the hesitation that swiftly crossed his face, I asked, “Does Mom know?”
He worked his jaw a couple times before saying, “No. I didn’t know if . . . not yet.”
“If you plan on leaving again, leave now before she finds out.” My chest shook with my exaggerated, desperate breaths as I erased some of the distance between us. “You stay? Then stay. But know if you up and leave again, I will hunt you down and beat the shit out of you for the way you have broken our mom’s heart. Understand?”
His only response was a single nod.
“You need to decide what you’re gonna do.”
“I’m not leaving.”
I studied him, trying to decipher the honesty behind his words, then nodded. “I gotta talk to Rae, but you can stay in our guest room for now,” I said and started away from him, but paused at the doors of Brewed. “Do me a favor and stay away fr
om Emberly.”
Cayson’s attention drifted toward the windows of Brewed as if he could see Emberly from where he stood. The corner of his mouth twitched up in a challenging smirk. “Yeah, well, that’ll be easy considering she kicked me out of her shop.”
“I’m serious, Cays. She doesn’t need to deal with your shit again, she had more than enough of it when we were growing up.”
His stare snapped to me, that smirk falling as his expression shifted into something unreadable. “Trust me. I want nothing to do with Emberly Olsen.”
The end
* * *
Want more of the Brewed series by New York Times bestselling author Molly McAdams? Check out Whiskey, Glow, and Fire here!
Acknowledgments
Cory—As always, thank you for being my constant support. Everything I do is possible because of you. I love you!
Molly and Amy—A massive thank you for the never-ending support and encouragement. Your friendships mean the world to me. I don’t know what I would do without the two of you.
Molly’s Monsters—Y’all are literally the best group on Facebook. Thank you for all your support, encouragement, and the amazing uplifting spirit y’all have created in there.
Samantha, Letitia, & Shannon—Thank you, thank you, thank you for making this book what it is! From the photo to the cover to the edits . . . you’re all such rock stars!
About the Author
Molly grew up in California but now lives in the oh-so-amazing state of Texas with her husband, daughter, and fur babies. When she's not diving into the world of her characters, some of her hobbies include hiking, snowboarding, traveling, and long walks on the beach . . . which roughly translates to being a homebody and dishing out movie quotes with her hubby. She has a weakness for crude-humored movies and loves curling up in a fluffy blanket during a thunderstorm . . . or under one in a bathtub if there are tornados. That way she can pretend they aren't really happening.
For more of Molly McAdams’s novels, visit: www.mollysmcadams.com/books
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