“Fuck casual,” Sawyer said with a heat that made her eyes widen. “I haven’t felt the way I feel when I’m with you in longer than I can remember, Mia. Hell, maybe I’ve never felt it.” He paused, trapping her chin with his fingers, holding her prisoner when she tried to look away. “I know it wasn’t my first time, but tonight was special. You’re special, and when you look at me…” He shook his head. “I don’t know how to describe what you do to me, but I know I don’t want to hold you at a distance, and I don’t want to miss out on the right woman because the wrong one made me gun shy.”
Mia blinked, not sure what to make of the intensity in his gaze. A part of her was relieved that he felt the connection between them, too, and that part wanted to reach for him and hold on tight. But the other part of her kept remembering her first date with Paul, the way she’d felt like she was going to drown in the force of the pull between them, and how willingly she’d let herself be sucked under, never imagining how hard it would be to break free once she’d made herself vulnerable to a man who saw no difference between love and possession.
But Sawyer wasn’t Paul. When she looked into his eyes, she didn’t feel like she was drowning. She felt like she was breathing fresh air for the first time in months, and she couldn’t imagine going back into the close, stifling world she’d inhabited before Sawyer swept into her life.
This was scary, but Sawyer was right. It would be stupid to keep pushing the right man away because the wrong man had left her shattered and afraid. She didn’t want to be broken anymore, and she was sick to death of letting Paul haunt her. If Sawyer could put the nightmare he’d lived through as a child behind him, then she could do the same.
“Okay,” she said, throat tight as she cupped his cheek in her hand, mirroring his caress. “Fuck casual, but I’m not moving to Wyoming. If you don’t get the job, we’ll just have to do this long distance.”
Sawyer grinned. “What do you mean if I don’t get the job? I’m going to get it.”
“Oh yeah?” Mia lifted an eyebrow. “Does my gram know the decision has been made?”
“Not yet, but she will.” Sawyer slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, until his thickening erection pressed against her belly and Mia’s pulse began to beat in low, secret places. “When I put my mind to it, I’m pretty good at getting what I want.”
Mia grinned as she slipped a hand between their bodies, stroking Sawyer’s cock. “Is that right? And what do you want right now, Mr. Kane?”
Sawyer groaned, a hungry sound that made Mia feel powerful and giddy all at the same time.
“I think you have a pretty good idea, Ms. Sherman,” he said, before adding in a softer voice. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Maybe we should give it a rest until tomorrow night?”
“I’ll let you know when I need a rest, cowboy.” Mia shoved at his shoulders, rolling him over and straddling him in one smooth movement.
In five minutes, they were both breathing faster. In ten, Sawyer was helping guide her hips as she took him inside her again, the soreness and discomfort vanishing from her awareness as she began to ride him and passion swelled between them. In fifteen minutes, Mia was calling out Sawyer’s name as she came with his fingers digging into her ass and his sinful mouth on her breasts and her heart soaring because it felt so damned good to be naked with this man.
Almost as good as it felt to fall asleep cradled against him, and sleep the night through without a whisper of fear, only satisfaction and the feeling deep in her bones that she and Sawyer had both found their safe harbor, right there in each other’s arms.
CHAPTERTWELVE
One Week Later
“It’s highway robbery!But I don’t see that we have a choice but to hire him.” Gram stalked back and forth across the western side of Mia’s parents’ wraparound porch, jabbing at Sawyer’s proposed budget with her crooked right finger, the one she’d broken during the last batch of ghost town renovations and never bothered to have properly set. “Man’s got us over a barrel. With a dead body at the San Antonio morgue, and the police taking their sweet time identifying the thing, we need to make sure Mr. Kane has a reason to keep quiet.”
“Gram, I told you, Sawyer promised he wouldn’t say a word about the body,” Mia said, wishing her gram would sit down beside her on the porch swing.
All the pacing was making her even more nervous. She’d known Sawyer’s budget was going to give Gram fits, but she trusted that he was giving them a fair bid, and she really,reallydidn’t want to watch Sawyer pack his bags tomorrow morning.
This past week together had been…amazing. Mia had never been so sexually satisfied in her life, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy. Happy in an uncomplicated, free, and easy way that had her smiling so often her jaw ached when she went to bed at night, but she wasn’t about to complain. She’d gladly suffer from chronic TMJ if it meant Sawyer could stay in town for a few more months. He was quickly becoming more than a safe harbor, more than a friend, or even a lover. She was afraid to put into words what she felt for him—it was too soon, and she was determined not to rush things—but she knew she wanted more time, more happiness.
More Sawyer.
“And you trust him,” Gram said, shaking her head, making no effort to hide the fact that she thought Mia must have misplaced her common sense.
“I do,” Mia said. “He’s a good guy. A great guy, and I believe he’ll keep his promise, whether he gets the job or not.”
“You believe him because you’re sleeping with him,” Gram said with a snort.
Mia’s eyes widened and her cheeks began to flame, but before she could figure out what to say, Gram barreled on.
“Don’t bother trying to deny it. I saw the sappy looks during dinner, and the footsy under the table.” Gram rolled her eyes. “I may be old, but my eyesight is still just fine, Amelia Louise.”
Mia shrugged, ignoring the burning in her cheeks. “Say what you want, Gram, but I think the fact that we’re…together is a pretty strong endorsement of what I think of Sawyer’s character. I trust him, and I know he wants to stay in Lonesome Point for the summer. If he could have given you a lower bid, he would have.”
“Well I…” Gram pressed her lips together, turning her mouth into a slash that slanted across her finely wrinkled face. “Never mind. I know when to hold my tongue.”
“What?” Mia asked. “Just spit it out, Gram.”
Gram caught one of her silver curls around her finger and tugged. It was a nervous habit, one Mia loved. It made her Gram seem younger than her nearly seventy years. Gram was a pixie of a person, four inches and a couple dozen pounds lighter than Mia, but she was a powerhouse who rarely hesitated to say what she thought. The fact that she was trying to censor herself should have given Mia a clue that she wasn’t going to like what Gram had to say.