4. Beckett #3
“Come on,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
Sawyer stared at me for so long, I thought she was going to say no. When she finally moved, interlacing her fingers with my own, I carefully led her through the throng of people filing toward the parking lot. We made it through the exit gate and came to a slow stop where we had met earlier.
I looked around, trying to remember which direction she’d come from. Before I could ask her what was wrong, she tugged on my arm and blurted out, “I don’t want to go home.”
I stared at her in confusion. Her cheeks were flushed, hands fidgeting. It was obvious she was nervous as hell, but for what? “Well, I think the old saying is that we don’t have to go home, but we can’t stay here,” I said, scratching the back of my head.
Sawyer smiled, tentatively, and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard that a time or two before.”
Neither of us had let go of the other, so I tugged her closer. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, I asked, “Where do you want to go?”
“Would it be too forward of me to say your place?” Her words tumbled out so fast I wondered if I misunderstood what she asked.
“My place?”
Another nod. “The bar is almost closed, and I don’t really want to go back to work, anyway. And I can’t bring you to my place.”
“Why not? It’s probably better than the tiny cabin I’m staying in,” I laughed.
“I have family in town,” she mumbled, waving me off. “They’re staying with me, so we’d have no privacy.”
“Is that a concern?” I asked, crowding her.
Her lips parted as my free hand slipped around her waist, tightening my hold, as the other slid into her hair.
Normally, I wouldn’t be so affectionate out in the open, but no one knew me here.
There were no tabloids looking for their next scoop or ex-girlfriends looking to extort my family for cash.
It was just me and Sawyer, amidst a small sea of folks I’d never see again in my life.
“It might be,” Sawyer replied. Her gaze flicked down to my lips, giving me all the consent I needed to capture her mouth in a searing kiss.
We melded together perfectly. She relaxed in my arms, letting me maneuver her how I saw fit.
We’d only known each other a couple of hours, yet she handed over control as though it’d been years.
When I deepened the kiss, letting my tongue flick out against hers, Sawyer let out a breathy little whimper that went straight to my cock.
And then, if that weren’t enough, the little tease skated her hands down my body and squeezed me through my jeans.
I pulled back, groaning. “If this isn’t what you want, you should tell me now.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, voice rough.
“I mean,” I said, tightening my grip ever so slightly, “that if you don’t want to get in my car, ride to my cabin, and let me find out how pretty you look when you come… You should say goodnight and walk away right now.”
I refused to let there be any confusion as to what I planned to do when we were alone. It was going to take everything I had just to keep my eyes on the road and not on the seat next to me.
“I don’t want to say goodnight. Not yet. Not until morning.” Sawyer pushed onto her toes and kissed me. I felt more want and need in those five seconds than I had in entire dates before. “Please.”
It was that word, that one fucking word, that did me in.
I scooped her up, smiling at her protests as I tossed her over my shoulder and bounded toward my car.
Her face was red with laughter as I sat her down and opened the passenger door so she could slide in.
By the time I made my way to the driver’s side, Sawyer was buckled up.
She rolled her head along the seat, failing to hide her smile. “This car is ridiculous.”
“It was all they had for a rental. I made due,” I said, turning over the engine.
“You realize this probably costs more than my yearly salary, don’t you? It’s a freaking BMW.”
I shrugged. Most of the time, I didn’t mind people talking about how much money I had or recognizing my father’s position had awarded us more privilege than I could rightfully understand.
I often used all that shit to my advantage, but I didn’t like it with Sawyer.
It made my stomach sour to think of the fact that this base-level SUV likely was worth more than she made in a year, especially at that shack she called a bar.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I admitted. Clearly she wasn’t impressed by the show of wealth, and the display left me feeling a bit queasy. It was never my intention to make her feel less than.
Sawyer didn’t respond right away, and I had no plans to push. She didn’t really seem like the type to abandon her hometown in pursuit of bigger and better things. I’d never understand it, but some folks were happy with what they had.
My father, however, wasn’t one of them. He bought up foreclosed properties in pursuit of more and more wealth, wrecking small towns as he went.
And if he had his way, Pinecrest would be next on the list.