Chapter Five #3
They fell into easy conversation; she told stories about Ryan’s latest antics; he recounted tales of close calls on the ranch. Plates whisked away, stemware shimmered as glasses were refilled, and the server finally laid a leather‐bound check holder on the table.
“Thank you,” Rawley said, slipping his wallet free and placing a credit card inside the glossy slot before returning it to the attendant.
“I’ll be right back,” the server said, bowing slightly.
Skylar dabbed at her lips with her napkin and glanced at Rawley. “Where are the restrooms?”
“Down that hallway,” he nodded toward a dim archway off to the side.
“Okay. I won’t be long.” She rose gracefully, smoothing her dress, and he stood as well, offering a hand.
“Your manners are impeccable,” she teased, slipping past him.
He grinned, watching her retreating figure. “My parents thank you.”
****
Rawley settled back into the booth. A moment later, the server returned with his card and a receipt. Rawley added a tip, signed the receipt, handed them back, then stood when he saw Skylar returning.
He checked his watch under the soft glow of the overhead lamp. “It’s still early. Want to stop by Dewey’s for a drink?”
“I would love that.”
“Alright, let’s go.” He took her hand and guided her out of the restaurant. The night air greeted them as they stepped outside, the stars bright overhead. Rawley led her to his truck.
After parking in Dewey’s crowded lot, he opened her door. She slipped out gracefully, then he took her hand again as they navigated through groups of chatty patrons talking in the parking lot.
“It’s always packed here,” she observed, brushing a lock of hair from her face.
He chuckled. “It’s the only bar around.”
“Well, that explains it,” she said with a grin.
He nodded toward the wooden doors, their paint chipped and welcoming.
Rawley pulled one open, and the thump of country music, the roar of laughter, and the clink of glasses washed over them.
Bright neon signs cast crimson and turquoise light across the worn floorboards as they stepped inside, ready for the rest of their evening.
****
They found two empty stools and settled onto them. Skylar glanced around with a smile on her face. Scarlett spotted them, walked to them and asked what they wanted. Rawley ordered a beer, and Skylar got her usual whiskey sour.
As they sat at the bar, the band began to play Whiskey and You, a song by Darius Rucker and Skylar sighed.
“I love this song,” she said.
Rawley took her glass from her hand, set it on the bar, and put his hand out toward her.
“Then we should dance.”
Skylar placed her hand in his and they made their way through the crowd to the dance floor.
She turned into his arms and wrapped hers around his neck.
His arms slid around her waist, pulling her closer and she placed her cheek on his chest, under his chin.
She smiled when she felt him rest his cheek on her head.
When the song ended, they headed back to the bar but had to find other seats since someone had taken theirs.
“I’ll get us another drink,” Rawley said and put his hand up to get a bartender’s attention.
An hour later, she got up to use the bathroom and pushed through the crowd. When she stepped back into the hallway, she came to a stop when she saw the men who had been bothering her the last time she was here. She hoped to squeeze past them before they saw her, but one stepped in front of her.
“Well, who do we have here?” he said as he put his hand on the wall beside her, blocking her.
“Move,” she said.
“Oh, come on, we can get to know each other.”
“I don’t want to know you, so back off.”
The man laughed, as did his buddies.
“She’s playing hard to get,” another one said.
“Get out of my way,” she snapped.
“You heard her, get out of her way.”
Skylar sighed with relief when she heard Rawley’s voice. The men all turned to look at him.
“Damn, you again. Like I said before, you can’t take all of us on.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll give it a shot.”
“You’d never be able to get back up.” The man removed his hand from the wall, stepped close to Rawley and stared at him. Though, he had to look up since Rawley was taller.
“You talk big for such a little man,” Rawley said.
When Skylar laughed, the guy spun around and stared at her.
“I’m more than enough man for you, honey.”
She snorted. “In your dreams, maybe, and I am not your honey.”
Rawley held his hand out to her, and she placed hers in his, then he nodded at the men, turned and led her back to the stools.
Once they sat down, she blew out a relieved breath.
“Are you alright?” Rawley asked.
“Yes. I tried to get past them before they saw me, but I didn’t quite make it.”
“Yeah, I saw. That’s why I showed up. I don’t trust them. Not in the least.”
“I don’t either.”
“Let’s finish our drinks and we’ll go.” Rawley picked up his beer and downed it.
“Okay.” Skylar only had a sip left, so she drank it and watched as Rawley waved Scarlett over.
“Another round?” she asked with a smile.
“No, thanks. Just the bill, please, Scarlett,” Rawley said.
“Be right back.”
After paying for the drinks, Rawley took her hand, and they walked from the bar. Once they reached his truck, he looked over his shoulder.
“Are they following us?”
“I don’t see them.” He opened the passenger door for her and helped her climb inside the cab, then he strode around the front and slid onto the seat. He started the truck but kept his eyes on the doors of the bar.
As he eased out of the dimly lit parking lot, Skylar noticed that Rawley’s eyes rarely left the rearview mirror, scanning the dark ribbon of road behind them.
The glow of the streetlights receded, and the night swallowed the rest. If those men were tailing them, they were good; no headlights glowed, no shapes loomed.
Skylar turned to look out the back window, her forehead nearly touching the glass. She exhaled softly; the sound lost in the hum of the truck’s engine.
“I don’t think they’re following us,” she said, voice taut.
He glanced to the side mirror. “I don’t see anyone.”
****
Rawley turned into her gravel driveway, small stones crunching beneath the tires, and he killed the engine.
Silence settled, broken only by distant crickets and a lone owl calling out somewhere in the pines.
He kept his eyes on the mirror. Nothing.
Maybe those guys just liked flexing their muscles.
Rawley, with two decades in law enforcement, trusted their intentions about as far as he could throw them.
He’d bet his last dollar they were up to no good.
He swung the door open and stepped out, the night air prickling at his skin. Mid-stride, he froze. The distant hum of an engine drifted in from the road. He ducked back into the cab.
“What’s wrong?” Skylar’s voice quivered beside him.
“Hold on.” His eyes fixed on the thin beam of headlights inching along the black stretch of asphalt. “I want to make sure it’s not them.”
“We don’t know what they drive.”
“A red Ford-150. I’m not taking any chances it’s not them.”
Skylar swallowed. “Why are they doing this?”
He exhaled, jaw tight. “They’re jerks. They think if they act big, people will back down. When I didn’t, they had to. They’re all talk.”
A pickup lumbered past the driveway, its dull headlights sweeping the trees. Rawley slid his hand beneath the seat, fingertips closing around the cool metal of a pistol case, then he set it on his lap.
“Is that a gun?” she whispered.
He nodded as he clicked the combination lock. Each soft click echoed in the stillness until the lid creaked open, revealing his Glock 26 nestled in dark foam. The matte-black slide caught a sliver of dashboard light as he loaded the magazine.
“Stay here.” He stepped out, the door’s hinges whispering as he eased it shut.
Outside, pine needles crackled under his boots as he slipped toward the tree line.
The moon shone between swaying branches, casting silver bars across the road.
He pressed himself against the rough bark, heart pounding, as the pickup’s engine growled and retreated into the night.
When the road fell silent again, Rawley returned to the truck. Inside, he sat for a moment, then carefully ejected the magazine. Each piece of the pistol slipped back into its foam cradle; the case snapped shut, the combo lock clicking into place. He tucked it back under the seat.
Skylar’s eyes met his in the reflected dim light. “Was it them?”
He rubbed his temples. “I couldn’t tell for sure, but there was more than one person in that truck.”
Her lower lip trembled. “What if they come back after you leave?”
He reached out, brushing her hand. “Don’t open the door. If they return, you call the sheriff’s department first, then me.”
“I don’t like this, Rawley. Not one bit.”
He squeezed her hand gently. “I know. But they’re just trying to scare you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She managed a shaky smile. “Well, they’re doing one hell of a job.”
He opened the door, stepped out, walked around to the passenger side, opened the door and held out his hand.
“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
****
Together they stepped into the warm glow of the front porch light, and Skylar removed her keys from her purse and looked at him.
“I had a good time. For a while anyway. Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” He stared into her eyes.
Skylar turned to unlock the door, then gazed into his eyes.
“I’d like to kiss you, Skylar, but I’ll leave that up to you.”
“I’d like that, Rawley.”
Rawley lowered his head, his dark espresso eyes never leaving hers until the last moment when his warm lips pressed against hers with a tenderness that made her heart flutter.
He pulled her against his solid chest, the intoxicating scent of his aftershave enveloping her like a blanket.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers threading through the silky dark hair at his nape as he deepened the kiss, the gentle, teasing sweep of his tongue making her moan softly into the star-studded night air.
He raised his head and gazed into her eyes, his pupils dilated with desire.
“Damn. That was good,” he murmured, his voice a husky rumble against her skin.
“Yes,” she whispered, her lips still tingling.
“You’ve been driving me crazy since the first time I saw you at the bar. Eating that cherry.” His lips lifted into a slow grin that made her heart stutter against her ribcage.
She stood on her tiptoes, the delicious rough texture of his five o’clock shadow grazing her flushed skin as she kissed his lips, then slid hers across his stubbled cheek to the sensitive hollow beneath his ear.
“You should see what I can do with the stem,” she whispered against his heated skin as she nipped at his earlobe with her teeth, tasting the salt of his skin.
“Fuck,” he swore, his hands tightening on her waist, fingers digging into the soft fabric of her dress.
“Goodnight, Rawley.” Skylar laughed when he groaned.
“Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep well.” His thumb traced her bottom lip with exquisite slowness, making her shiver with anticipation.
“I’ll try. You too.”
He shook his head. “I can tell you right now, that is not going to happen after that kiss.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering for a heartbeat, then looked at her with an intensity that made her knees weak as he clasped her hand and squeezed it, his palm warm and reassuring against hers. “Go inside.”
“Okay. Night.” She smiled, her fingers reluctantly slipping from his as she opened the door and walked inside.
She turned to close the door to see him still standing there, a silhouette of broad shoulders against the moonlit night.
He nodded once and she closed the door and locked it.
Then she leaned against the solid oak wood with her trembling hand pressed to her tingling lips, still feeling the ghost of his kiss and tasting him on her tongue.