Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
“A very good thing.”
“But you’re not gonna tell me what it is. The very good new job.”
I push off the bar, straightening so that my elbow grazes his stomach as I lift my beer to my lips. “I have to make sure you’re not going to dismember me or my family first. The less you know, the better.”
He grins. I have the sudden urge to stick my tongue inside his dimple, the one on his right cheek.
“Am I allowed to know if you’d like to body-slam me again?” He glances at the dance floor.
I blink, realizing the band is playing a Shenandoah cover, “Two Dozen Roses.” How did I miss that?
Looking up at Sawyer, I have my answer. Right. The super-hot cowboy who keeps flirting with me.
“Sounds kinda dirty when you say it like that.” I step forward.
He steps forward, too, so that our faces are mere inches apart. “I’ll make it as dirty as you want, Ava.”
We burst out laughing at the same time.
He runs a hand over his scruff. Is that a pink flush working its way up his neck? “Sorry. That was … really bad, wasn’t it?”
I give him a nudge. “Bright side, I know you’re not a serial killer now. They can’t be that cheesy.”
They can’t be that endearingly, adorably embarrassed.
“I’m just a little rusty.” He holds up his hand and pinches his fingers together. “I don’t really go out anymore.”
“Sawyer, I haven’t been out to a bar in … Lord, I don’t even know how long. If anyone is rusty, it’s me.”
He smiles. “So you’ll body-slam—I mean dance—you’ll dance with me, then?” He holds out his hand.
I take it. How could I not? Dan didn’t dance. He didn’t want me dancing, either. A man encouraging me to do my thing on the dance floor is a really nice change of pace.
“This is one of my favorite songs, so yeah. I’d love to.”
Without thinking, I swipe my thumb across the back of his hand. I’m not sure why I do it. I’m just … feeling this, I guess. Feeling us, and touching him this way feels like a small, safe admission that I want more of whatever it is he’s giving me.
Maybe three times really is a charm. What do I have to lose?
“I’d love to body-slam you. Let’s do it.”
Burns, burns, burns.
My entire being burns as Sawyer leads me to the dance floor.
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.