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TRUE TO HIS PRE-NAP promise, Sawyer drove Carmen to her hotel to change and then to the side of town she had not yet explored, parking in front of what appeared to be a dilapidated warehouse. Carmen stared at the rundown building, then gave him a puzzled glance. “You lied to me before; you are going to Dexter me?”
Sawyer chuckled as he jumped out of the truck.
“It’s why you brought the tow truck. To implicate your dad, keep the DNA in one place.” She was still talking while he walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and held out a hand for her.
Sawyer shook his head. “You city folk, always so sure everyone is out to get you.” He did not release her hand once she was on the ground, but instead tucked her fingers into the warm crook of his elbow. “If it eases your mind, my dad took my truck home today and left me with this beast. He’s taking Mom out for their anniversary, and he said my truck is sexier than her station wagon.”
“Aww, well, that’s sweet.”
“They can be disgustingly adorable,” Sawyer said with a crinkle of his nose. “Come on. You’ll love this place.” He pulled Carmen through a set of double-swinging doors that creaked as they entered.
They stood by the Please Wait to Be Seated sign inside the door. The interior was full of chatter, the clinking of cutlery and glassware. Carmen gazed around, sucking deep breaths of air so magnificently laden with smells that her mouth flooded, and she swallowed. “Oh, my.”
“This is The Riverside Smokehouse. They do all their meats and brew their beer right here. The rest is the seating area.” Sawyer took her shoulder and turned her around. Carmen gasped. Utilitarian down to its bones. The converted warehouse was a rustic, chic wonderland.
Rough-hewn slabs formed long communal tables, each adorned with quart jars spilling wildflowers onto mismatched lace table runners. Candles sent dancing lights out from their holders of repurposed wine bottles, and above their heads, strand upon strand of tiny twinkling lights crossed the cavernous space like dust trails left by fairies.
“This place is fantastic.” Carmen tipped her head up and her wide eyes met Sawyer’s. For a long moment, he stared back, the light from the flames dancing in the bright blue of his irises and creating shadows under his high cheekbones. Carmen swallowed, suddenly terrified and desperately hopeful he would kiss her. Through the tips of her fingers that still lay tucked against his body, she could feel the pounding of his heart. His eyes strayed down to her lips, and he turned a half step, bringing their bodies around to face each other. Carmen pulled in a shaky breath.
“Sawyer, what a lovely surprise.” The caustic tone said otherwise. Carmen and Sawyer whirled, nearly colliding with each other like guilty children caught at mischief.
“Hey, Mary.” Sawyer’s cheeks darkened. “I didn’t know you worked here now.”
Mary pursed her pink-stained lips. “Well, I wouldn’t expect you to, seeing as we haven’t spoken in months.” She speared him with a look that, observer though she was, made Carmen’s palms sweat. Then Mary’s chin rose a fraction and she bent, retrieving two menus off the stack on the hostess stand. She let her eyes fall on Carmen for the first time, her features melting into an overly bright, sickeningly fake smile. “Welcome to Riverside Smokehouse. Right this way, please.”
They settled themselves at the end of one of the long tables. Once Mary left with their drink orders, Carmen picked up her menu and peaked at Sawyer over the top. “Is she going to poison our food?” she whispered.
Sawyer winced. “I’m sorry about that. We dated a few times. It fizzled. I probably didn’t handle the situation as well as I should have.”
“It’s none of my business.” Carmen turned back to the menu. “Seeing as I have your guarantee of survival, what should I have?”
“The pulled pork sandwich,” Sawyer replied instantly. “And a pale ale. Though let’s be clear here, I never actually made any guarantee.”
She stared at him, ignoring the last part of his comment. “I just ordered a glass of wine.”
Sawyer waved a hand in the air. “Drink both.”
Carmen scoffed and set the menu down on the table, folding her hands over the top. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Are you chicken?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
Carmen sniffed. “Oh, please! Be careful, country boy, I’m half Irish.”
“Well, well . . .” Sawyer leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “That sounds a lot like a challenge.”
“Take it how you’d like, Stevenson.” She mimicked his posture and wondered what in the name of hell she was doing.
****
BY HER THIRD BEER, that question still plagued Carmen. More importantly, however, she remained secure in her seat while Sawyer’s smile grew more lopsided by the swallow.
She drained her glass and watched him across the rim as he did the same. “How are we getting back?”
He gave her a look that would have melted the condensation off her beer mug had there been any left. “Your hotel is right around the corner.”
Carmen cocked her head and smiled back sweetly as she pushed away from the table. “That doesn’t help you now, does it?”
Sawyer threw back his head and laughed. “I’ll walk. Nothing in this town is too far away,” Sawyer assured her, still chuckling. The sound followed Carmen down the hallway when she excused herself and went in search of the washrooms.
When she looked in the mirror after washing her hands, Carmen decided she had been too cocky, thinking the booze was not affecting her as much as Sawyer. Her cheeks were rosy and a stupid grin kept creeping its way across her lips no matter how much she tried to quell it.
Carmen pushed the restroom door open with a paper towel just as a man passed her heading into the other restroom. She froze, her heart slamming into her throat, and she whipped around. “Billy?” The word flew to her lips but came out only as a soft hiss.
For a second, she was sure. The quick flash of profile left her frozen in the doorway. She swallowed, drew a shaky breath, shook her head, and told herself it was nothing but a trick of the light. She repeated it over and over while walking back to the table, but her heartbeat was still frantic when she slid into her seat.
“What’s wrong?” Sawyer cocked his head, eyes narrowing as he studied her face. Their food had arrived, but his knife and fork still lay beside his plate. He had waited for her before he began.
Carmen took a long swallow from her water glass before answering. “Nothing, I thought I saw someone I knew. Obviously, I was wrong.”
He raised a brow, waiting for her to elaborate, but she did not. Her heart still beat a tattoo inside her ribs, but she clenched her hands to stop their shaking.
“So,” she sat back, striving for calm, “you’re not as drunk as you were acting.” It was not a question. The more she thought about it, the more obvious the fact became.
“No, I’m not.” He ruefully studied the lip of his mug. “Takes more than three beers to take out a guy my size.”
“What exactly were you hoping to gain?”
Realization dawned on Sawyer’s face at the slight accusation in her tone. He frowned, leaning across the table. “Carmen, it wasn’t anything like that. I didn’t try to pull a fast one on you.”
She narrowed her eyes, and he had the good grace to squirm in his chair. “So, you weren’t trying to get me into bed?” she asked, point-blank.
He poked at his fork with one finger, avoiding her eyes. “I thought you could use a night to let loose. If you wanted to sleep together after, well, that would have been a lucky bonus.”
Carmen narrowed her eyes at him. Sawyer promptly looked up and then melted her with a grin. “I’m kidding. I only want you to have fun.”
“In that case, thank you.” She reached out and laid her fingers on the back of his hand. “You were right. I did need a night out.”
His eyes strayed down to where their hands rested together, and Sawyer relaxed visibly under her touch. “My pleasure. Promise I wasn’t trying to pull one over on you.” He held up the pinky finger of his free hand. “I’m even willing to pinkie swear.”
Carmen laughed. “Thank you, but I don’t think such a binding contract is necessary.”
“Well, there is one more thing I have yet to share with you.”
“And what’s that?” she asked, cautiously.
A crooked, mischievous smile inched itself across his face. “The music is about to start; we are going to dance, so you better eat up.”
Carmen choked on the swallow of ale she’d just taken. “Pardon me?”
“Dancing! Starts out as line dancing usually, then sort of turns into a free for all. Bumping, grinding, the likes.” Sawyer shrugged, a look of complete, and therefore feigned, innocence on his face. “Eat up.” He nudged her plate closer to her with one finger and then picked up his cutlery. “Chop, chop.”
Carmen stared at him for a moment, then down at her food. With a sigh, she lifted her own fork and dug in. For the first few bites, she merely savoured the delicious, smoky flavours of the meat, then she looked over at Sawyer and caught him looking at her.
“Good?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth.
She answered by rolling her eyes back in a moment of pure ecstasy.
****
SAWYER FINISHED BEFORE her, then stared at her with a round-eyed, hopeful expression while she ate her last few bites. Carmen threw her napkin onto her plate with a laugh. “Okay, okay. I’m done now.”
“Let’s go!”
Carmen stared at him, shaking her head in disbelief. “How can you possibly feel like moving around? I think you’re going to have to roll me out of this chair and back to the hotel like a barrel.”
“You’ll burn it off.” He was up and tugging at her hand. Carmen stood with a groan.
“You’re insane,” she grumbled over the twanging of guitars warming up. “It’s no wonder you stay skinny. You don’t give your food a chance to stick to your bones.”
Sawyer dragged her out into the space cleared in front of the small, raised stage. Grinning, Sawyer waved at a guitar player on the stage, then did a little bow in front of her, making Carmen laugh. “Ready?” he asked.
“Not in the least,” she replied, and put her hand in his extended one. The sounds of plucked strings and vocal warm-ups switched to music. A tall, lean man stepped up to the microphone and the rich notes of his baritone voice washed over the room.
Without warning, Sawyer kicked them into a dance and Carmen promptly tripped over both their feet, almost falling. With a curse that came out on the wings of a laugh, Sawyer caught her. “Just follow what I’m doing,” he said against her ear, hoisting her upward. His fingers sat low on her hip, burning through the fabric of her shirt.
Carmen shivered at the brush of his warm breath. Forcing herself to relax against him, she nodded. “I’ll try.”
“You can do it,” Sawyer said over the music. Then he tipped his head and brushed his lips against her cheek.
“Okay,” Carmen breathed, “but I refused to be held responsible for any injuries.”
****
AFTER MIDNIGHT, CARMEN dropped onto the foam slab that the hotel had the nerve to call a bed. Her cheeks hurt from smiling and her veins hummed with alcohol and laughter. Without sitting up, she squirmed out of her jeans and flung them across the room. Then she pulled the blankets over herself, snuggling down in the pillows. The stupid grin was still straining across her mouth.
She had been sure Sawyer would kiss her at the door when he walked her back to the hotel, but he had not. Only lifted her knuckles to his warm lips, sending goosebumps scrambling up her arm. Bending at the waist, he gave her a deep bow and a “my lady” before grinning at her. Then without turning around, he stepped down the hallway and promptly tripped over the carpet runner and fell on his ass. Giggling at the memory of Sawyer’s face as he windmilled his arms in the air to save himself, Carmen drifted into the soundest sleep she’d had in days.