Sawyer’s grin turned wicked around the edges. “I had that feeling about you. How about we agree no more than four shots each? Anything more is asking for trouble.”
Mia knocked his hip with hers as they started through the rows of booths. “Maybe I’m in the mood for trouble.”
Sawyer’s smile became a smolder that sent a rush of awareness zinging from Mia’s lips all the way down to her toes. “Me too, but I prefer trouble that doesn’t end with anyone feeling sick the next morning. But I could be up for trouble later, if you play your cards right.”
Mia was about to mention that Bubba had a poker game going on Thursday nights, if he was literally up for “playing his cards right,” but decided against it. For the first time since she returned home, she didn’t want to spend a night hanging out with friends. She wanted to be with Sawyer, and she wanted him all to herself.
They left the food vendor area, made a beeline through the arts and crafts booths with their heads down—Lula had a booth where she sold her ceramic dolls, and she still hadn’t forgiven Mia for her suspected role in the pantying of her garden gnomes—and arrived at the adults only corner of the market. They showed their licenses to the man checking IDs, and held out their arms for orange bracelets before moving down the row of booths where beer brewers, wineries from farther north, and a tequila distillery had set up makeshift bars to give free samples and sell their spirits.
“You’re only twenty-eight,” Mia observed before handing Sawyer back his I.D. as they wandered past the long line for the micro-brewery’s booth.
Sawyer slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close as a man who’d already had a few too many stumbled past them. “You sound surprised.”
“I am.” Mia leaned into him, loving the solid feel of his chest against her shoulder. “You seem older.”
“Too much time in the sun,” Sawyer said. “Gives you wrinkles.”
Mia nudged him with her elbow. “No, not the way you look. You’re just…mature, I guess.”
He smiled. “Thanks. But seriously, once I moved in with my grandpa, I don’t think I spent more than fifteen minutes inside at a time. Even in the winter. I was too busy helping out around the ranch, then riding over to my uncle’s place to work on the ghost town. He was still working on Carol’s Gulch back then, and I couldn’t get enough of that place.”
Mia looked up at him, eyes wide. “You’re kidding! I didn’t know your uncle owned Carol’s Gulch. My grandmother visited years ago when it was still under construction. She said it inspired her to want to do something with the ruins on our property.”
Sawyer looked surprised. “Really? Uncle Felix didn’t do many tours back then. Only people who called with special requests. I bet he’d remember your gram if they met again.”
“Maybe they will, if you two get the job,” Mia said. “I, for one, have my fingers crossed.”
Sawyer’s arm tightened around her waist, making Mia feel warm all over before a single drop of tequila had slipped down her throat. “Me too. I’d like to stick around for a while.”
“Oh yeah?” Mia turned to him as they eased up to the bar surrounding the tequila tent.
“Yeah. There’s this fascinating redhead I’d like to get to know better.”
Sawyer’s arms went around her, and Mia was suddenly surrounded by powerfully muscled man, but the sensation didn’t trigger a spark of anxiety. Being pressed up against him set her body to purring with anticipation, making Mia wish they’d skipped the tequila booth and gone straight back to her place. She was going to invite him up to her apartment for a drink, and whatever else that might lead to. She knew it the moment he pressed a kiss to her forehead before fishing out his wallet, and paying for two shots of the añejo tequila.
Having made the decision while she was sober, Mia felt free to let go, and allow the tequila to work its magic upon the last of her inhibitions.
“Salt?” Sawyer asked, holding up the shaker between them.
“Definitely.” Mia lifted her wrist, holding Sawyer’s gaze as she dragged her tongue across the skin beneath her palm, not missing the heat that flickered in his eyes.
“I never thought I’d be jealous of a wrist,” he murmured as he sprinkled salt on her damp skin.
Mia grinned. “You like to be licked?”
“If you’re the one doing the licking.” He wet his own wrist with a sensual flick of his tongue that set Mia’s heart to racing. The man certainly knew what to do with that tongue during a kiss. She could only imagine what delightful things he could do when set free to explore the rest of her body.
The thought made her head spin even before she and Sawyer swept the salt from their wrists, downed their shot of tequila, and popped their lime slivers into their mouths.
“Smooth.” Sawyer pulled the wedge from between his lips. “You hardly need the lime.”
“Very smooth,” Mia agreed, but she was already having a hard time concentrating on the conversation. All she could think about was getting Sawyer home, and getting him out of that button up shirt that suddenly looked too tight across the shoulders. Surely he would be more comfortable out of that shirt…and those jeans…and whatever else he was wearing beneath them.
By the second shot of tequila, Mia could barely follow Sawyer’s story about his friend from Wyoming, who had brought home a bottle of tequila with a rattlesnake in it, and kept it in his pantry to scare his kids away from his wife’s chocolate stash. By the time they carried their third shot to a bench near the old theater, which now showed dollar movies on its single screen, neither of them had much to say. At least not with their mouths.
Sawyer’s eyes were saying plenty—promising long, hot kisses, and hotter hands running all over her body, leaving pleasure in their wake—and Mia had a feeling hers were doing the same. For the first time in her life, she was doubt-free about heading to the bedroom. She didn’t know if it was because she’d been deprived of human touch, or that she’d had another year to grow older and more sexually frustrated, or that Sawyer wasn’t long-term-relationship material that made her feel free to let down her guard, but Mia was ready. She was ready to be alone with the gorgeous man straddling the bench in front of her, and even five more minutes surrounded by the rest of the Lonesome Point community seemed like a waste of precious time.
“What do you say we have our fourth shot at my place?” Mia asked, as they dropped their empty glasses back to the bench between them.