3. Sawyer
CHAPTER 3
Sawyer
THIRSTY
The second Ava takes my hand, I know I’m in trouble.
It’s the good kind of trouble. I think. I hope. Been so long since I asked a pretty stranger to dance, I forget how this shit goes down.
All I know is, I fucking like it when she arcs her thumb over the back of my hand. The movement is quick, gentle. Barely noticeable. Except I’m a single dad who’s simultaneously touched out and touch-starved, so of course I notice it.
All of a sudden, my skin feels two sizes too tight. That all it takes?
It’s been a minute since I got laid. Or been on a date. Not for lack of trying. I just haven’t hit it off with anyone back home in Hartsville. I always felt like there was something missing whenever I went out with a girl. Couldn’t put my finger on it, but eventually I just stopped going out. Trying to date, find a real connection with someone, took too much time and energy I didn’t have.
Long story short, maybe this is just some kinda, I don’t know, frustration working its way to the surface. Even before Ella was born three years ago, I was never one to run around with random girls. Just wasn’t all that interested in meaningless hookups.
Which is how, at twenty-five, I ended up getting one of my good friends pregnant. But that’s another story for another day.
Point being, I’m not a player. But even for me, my current dry spell is bordering on epic. If I’m being honest, I think part of the reason Cash agreed to this trip is because he knew how much I needed a break—how badly I needed to cut loose.
What better way to cut loose than to dance to Shenandoah with a hot blonde?
Because Jesus Christ is Ava hot. The kind of hot that had half the place staring as she was dancing earlier. She’s tall, with striking green eyes and a head of long, lush hair. The kind you want to dig your hands into. The kind you could wrap around your fist once, twice, three times, giving you a nice, solid grip.
Duke, my younger brother, noticed me watching her, so he took it upon himself to nudge me closer and closer until I was right behind her. I was thinking of ways to get an opening—the line I’d lean in and say when the band was between songs—when her sister provided that opening for me by giving her a hard shove.
I’m still annoyed I didn’t have a Tide pen on me. Ava’s shirt is probably gonna be ruined. Unless I get my hands on it, of course. In the literal and figurative sense.
Don’t hate that idea. I’ve only known Ava for all of ten minutes, but the sharp-edged attraction I feel for her is something I haven’t experienced in a long-ass time. She’s gorgeous. She’s also funny. Self-deprecating in a way I like.
Kind, too.
Ava stays close as I lead her to the dance floor, our hands linked. The honky-tonk gets more crowded by the minute, and I quickly give up on my mission to join my brothers and her sisters up by the stage.
People press in on us from all sides. When Ava leans into me, touching her breasts to my back in an attempt to remain close, my body pulses so hard that I worry I’m going to black out.
Immediately, I think about doing the smart thing. The practical thing. It’s a knee-jerk reaction, an impulse forged in the fires of fatherhood.
I should get her back to her sisters. Close my tab and take my brothers to that brewery we passed earlier. It’s near the hotel, so we could walk home and get to bed at a decent hour. We need to be on the road by noon tomorrow, and I don’t want to be too hungover when I get back to the ranch …
But then I remember I came to Austin to do the exact opposite of what’s practical. In my life back home, I’m always thinking ahead. Always anticipating what needs to happen next so the day, and the day after that, can run smoothly. That’s how my mom and dad were as parents, and our home was a happy one because of it.
I want Ella’s home to be happy too. It’s work I don’t mind doing, but it’s still work. Some days I feel like all I do is complete task after task on a never-ending to-do list. Easy to forget to have fun when you live that way.
Which is why I’m determined to have fun while I can here in Austin. Gotta strike while the iron is hot.
While the girl you’re with is hot, more like it.
Keeping her hand in mine, I turn around to face her. We’re close enough that I can smell her perfume. It’s a scent I can only describe as springtime, bright and flowery. She tilts up her chin to meet my eyes. The green in hers is lit up, her lips curving into a small but potent smile.
She didn’t laugh at me when I was a dork at the bar. Instead, she laughed with me, making fun of herself in the process. Makes me feel safe.
Safe enough to just go for it, even if I am a rusty, awkward mess.
I guide her hand up to my shoulder, pulling her close as the band plays a Dolly Parton cover. Ava is holding her beer in her other hand, but she still curls that arm into my chest. Awareness blooms to life south of my navel, a flush of weighted warmth that moves through my abdomen and settles in the front of my thighs.
Guess she ain’t afraid to put herself out there, either, because she begins to move. A slow, rhythmic swaying of her hips that has her pressing against me, her legs gliding between my own.
I really like that.
Slipping a hand around her waist, I spread my fingers on the small of her back and pull her closer. So close that our bellies are flush. I slip my leg between hers, moving my hips in time to the music. Ava digs her teeth into her bottom lip.
Aw, yeah, she definitely likes that.
We find our rhythm with surprising ease. When the song ends, Ava lets out a holler, but she doesn’t take her hands off me. The band plays a Kenny Chesney song next, Darius Rucker after that. All the while Ava and I keep dancing. She finishes her beer and I finish mine, and I quickly set the bottles on a nearby ledge.
Now her hands are all over me. She runs them up my chest and circles my neck with her arms, shaking the hair out of her face before looking up at me. The happiness I see in her eyes—the little lines at the edges, the flash of heat in the pupils—makes my breath catch.
Leaning in, I brush my scruff against her cheek. “You’re a fuckin’ knockout, you know that?”
In reply, she slips her hand into the hair at the nape of my neck. My pulse seizes, a bolt of pure lust cracking down my middle as she gently glides her fingertips over my scalp.
“My wild’s not turning you off?”
“Hell no. Your wild is the hottest thing about you.”
She grins. “So is yours.”
It’s all I can do not to lean down and drag my lips over her neck. She’s pulling me closer, pressing her tits against my chest.
Speaking of wild—I wanna howl like the goddamned animal I am.
Instead, I put my hand on her back again, but lower this time. Low enough that my fingertips brush the back pocket of her jeans.
She’s got a really cute ass. I’d like to see—feel—more of it.
So I hold up my arm and spin her around, making her laugh. I really get into it, losing myself to the beat of a Brooks & Dunn song. I shake my own ass, then she shakes hers, the two of us heaving with laughter when she breaks out an adorable version of the sprinkler—one hand behind her head, the other extended in front of her, moving in time to the music. I do the shopping cart, Ava letting out a loud yell of approval as I place invisible items in my invisible buggy.
God, it feels good to laugh like this.
Grabbing her by the waist, I pull her against me again. She tips back her head and sings along to a Trisha Yearwood cover, and suddenly I’m singing too while simultaneously keeping my dick in check as Ava grinds against me.
Her forehead shimmers with sweat. My sides hurt from laughing.
I feel my brothers watching us. I keep waiting for them to come over and say something stupid. I’m glad Wyatt isn’t here, because he’d definitely pull some shit. He made some excuse about not liking “city life” in Austin, but I know he’s too lovesick over his newly returned best friend Sally to leave Hartsville.
So yeah, Cash, Duke, and Ryder shockingly leave Ava and me alone. More than once I catch Cash smiling at us. Duke too, but he’s smiling all the time now. Makes me think he’s crushing on someone new.
Not gonna lie, feels good knowing my brothers are happy for me. I feel like I’ve caused a lot of unnecessary heartache in our family over the past few years. Ella’s mom and I decided we were better off as friends, which meant I was a single dad from day one.
I don’t regret having Ella. How could I? She’s the light of my life, and quite possibly the cutest fucking kid to ever exist. But if I could do it over again? I’d wait until I was settled down with the right person before having a baby. That way, my brothers wouldn’t have to fill in for the wife I don’t have. I’d also be able to give Ella siblings. I was one of five kids, and I loved every minute of it. Sucks knowing there’s a good chance Ella won’t have that same sense of belonging—of being known—that I did growing up.
My chest twists. I hope Ella went down okay tonight—Wyatt is staying at my house with her. She’s been an absolute bear at bedtime. The pediatrician said it’s a common enough occurrence in three-year-olds. But Lord, am I ready for her to stay in her own damn bed for more than twenty minutes at a time.
“Thirsty?”
I blink and see Ava looking up at me.
“Yeah. Another beer?” I ask.
“Sure.”
Twining her fingers through mine, she turns and bends her elbow, draping my arm over her shoulders. I keep her tucked into my side as we head for the bar. The music fades, and my heart begins to pound.
I don’t wanna mess this up. So far, I’ve managed to be decently charming. Charming enough to keep Ava around, at least. But one wrong line—one stupid joke—and she could roll her eyes and walk away.
I do not want Ava to walk away. In fact, I’d very much like her to stay. Possibly in the ridiculous suite I was upgraded to at the swanky hotel nearby.
A hand grips my heart and squeezes.
Ah. So that’s what I’m nervous about. How the hell do I ask her to come home with me? She joked that she was worried I was a serial killer. It’s been so long since I propositioned someone. Is it totally out of line to ask her if she wants to get out of here? I’m pretty sure she’s into me, but there’s a big difference between dancing with someone and going home with them.
I don’t know how this works anymore. All I do know is that I’m going to be real disappointed if the night is about to end.
I see Duke hanging out at the end of the bar. I steer Ava toward the other end of the counter, but I’m too late. Duke’s eyebrows pop up when he sees us.
Smiling, he saunters over. “Well hey , y’all.”
Ava glances up at me. Her brows are pulled together in question.
“Ava, this is my younger brother Duke,” I explain.
Duke holds out his hand. “I’m the handsome one.”
“The cockiest for sure.” I roll my eyes.
Ava just smiles as she shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you, Duke. I see the resemblance.”
“Ava, the pleasure’s all mine. Your shirt looks much better. Did my brother get the stain?—”
“Don’t look at her shirt.” I curl my free hand into a fist, Mom’s admonishment passing through my head. Don’t punch your brother. You know how he bites .
“Jesus, since when do you growl?” Duke has a shit-eating grin on his face. “I thought that was Cash’s signature move.”
I stare him down. He stares back. Why can’t he take the hint? He needs to get gone, now.
Ava watches us, still smiling. “Tell me something, Duke.”
He tilts his head, lending her his ear. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Can you vouch for your brother?” Her eyes glint with mischief as they meet mine. “I’m a little worried he’s a serial killer.”
Duke grins. “Well, now that you mention it, he does exhibit some suspicious behavior?—”
“Not funny.” I’m growling again.
“Oh, come on, Sawyer, you couldn’t be a serial killer if you tried. You’re more of an overgrown puppy. Like a basset hound with big, floppy ears and those droopy eyes.”
Ava smiles. “I see it.”
“Really?” I tease. “Ouch.”
“A very cute basset hound puppy,” she corrects. “Better than a murderer, right?”
I laugh, curling an arm around her waist. “Guess so.”
I don’t miss the way Ava leans into me, running her hand up my chest. Just the boost of confidence I need.
She’s feeling me. Same way I’m feeling her. Excitement blooms in my chest at the increasingly likely prospect of getting this girl naked. Hits me just how much I need the release.
Just how much I want her. The kind of want that makes my stomach hurt in the best way.
“Basset hounds are kinda slobbery, though.” Duke curls his lip.
“So are the drunk guys at this bar.” I give him a death stare.
Chuckling, he glances over his shoulder. “I best get back out there. Ava, it was a pleasure meeting you. I assure you there are no killers in our family that I’m aware of, aside from the lady-killer variety?—”
“Not. Funny .”
My brother holds up his hands. “Fine, fine. I’ll get out of y’all’s hair.”
“He’s a character,” Ava says as we watch him disappear onto the dance floor.
“That’s one word for it.” I run a hand over my face. “Would you like another Shiner, or?—”
I’m interrupted by the lead singer, telling us their set is over. The crowd claps and whistles, and a beat later Waylon Jennings starts playing through the speakers above our heads.
“That’s a bummer. They were really good.” Ava drums her fingers against my chest. “What do we do now?”
My heartbeat marches in my ears. It’s the perfect moment to ask her to get out of here. We’ve been dancing for hours. Neither of us is wrecked. I’m so turned on that I could scream.
I’ll be crushed if she says no. But goddamn it, what if she says yes?
“We could go somewhere else?” I look down at her. “Try another spot?—”
“Okay.”
My pulse riots. Okay.
Ava just said okay.
“Any spot in particular you have in mind?” she asks.
The bed in my hotel suite.
I shrug, like my dick isn’t causing me serious grief right now. “I have an idea or two.”
“I like those ideas.”
“You don’t know what they are.”
“I think I do.” The frank lust in her eyes sends my pulse into a tailspin.
“You sure?”
She digs her teeth into her bottom lip. “Yeah, cowboy, I’m sure. But hold on.” She digs her phone out of her purse and holds it up to take a selfie. “I’m going to send your picture to my sisters. You chop me into little pieces, you bet they’re gonna come find your ass. Smile.”
I slide a hand into the back pocket of her jeans. “How could I not after that little speech?”
Snaking her free arm between us, she mimics the motion, dipping her fingertips into the back pocket of my Levi’s. She looks up at the screen. “Wow, we’re cute.”
“We’re hot as fuck.” I give her ass a squeeze. “Now take the picture so I can take you home.”
“Home is …”
“The Market Hotel.”
“Fancy.”
“Yep.”
Her eyes sparkle. I smile at the screen, and so does she. The camera clicks. She texts the photo to her sisters.
Then I grab Ava’s hand and lead her out of the bar.