God help me if it’s me.
"You play that tough cowboy act well, like you don't have feelings, claim you're too good for a relationship. But deep down? I think you want one. Maybe it even scares you."
A wolfish grin tugs at my lips, even as my heart kicks against its cage. She's close enough that I can count the faint freckles on her face. "Sounds like you got me all figured out, city girl."
There's a slight quirk to her eyebrow that tells me she's not entirely sure if she’s right or not. A lock of blonde hair falls across her face, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and tuck it behind her ear.
"Maybe I do," she says, searching my face for any signs of weakness.
I lean back, giving myself the illusion of space, though the heat of her presence is almost too much. We're playing a dangerous game, Sawyer and I, and it's getting harder every damn day to remember the rules.
"Maybe you do," I repeat, taking a slow sip, the burndown my throat not enough to distract from the heat of her scrutiny.
“I’m getting the feeling you like me more than you let on,” she says, leaning in close, her breath brushing the edge of my jaw.
I set my glass down slow, my fingers still wrapped tight around it—not because I need another sip, but because if I let go, they’ll end up on her. Gripping her waist. Tilting her chin. Pulling her in and lifting her on this damn bar like I’ve imagined too many times.
Instead, I hold back.
“Like I said,” I say, rough and quiet.My voice doesn't shake even though everything else inside me does. “Knox is my best friend. And out here, our brotherhood means something. So even if that was true, I can’t go there.”
The words come out gritty, like they’ve been hauled through miles of dirt and dust on the ranch. I straighten up, jaw tight, and pull my shit together the best that I can as I continue.
“And I’ll die on that hill. Don’t push this, Sawyer.”
“Okay, cowboy," she smiles. It’s almost evil. "If that's the game we're playing, then I'll play."
She turns and disappears into the crowd—slow, confident, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
And all I can think is… I’m about to lose whatever game she’s playing before it even starts.
Because damn it, every part of me wants to follow her.
And knowing Sawyer?
She’s already three steps ahead.
twenty
Sawyer
If Trouble isn’t going to make a move, then I’ll make one of my own. Sure, it won’t be with the cowboy I want it to be—but the second-hottest guy in this barn will do just fine.
I don’t know exactly when it happened, and I know I shouldn’t want my brother's best friend, shouldn’t be craving him like this—but I am. I need to know without a doubt that he feels the same. That this isn’t just all in my head.
The man I spot is no match for Trouble, doesn’t have that annoyingly perfect jawline, but tonight, he'll do.
I slide in next to him. "Care to dance?"
"Thought you'd never ask," he agrees. Easier than I expected.
Honey and Milo glide past us, wrapped up in their own little world until she spots me. "Did you find your mystery cowboy kisser yet? Maybe he's here…" She throws a glance toward Milo. "I mean, I found mine."
"Still searching," I toss back. Honey's laugh floats away as we find a placeto dance.
“Your mystery cowboy?” he asks, falling into step with me. “Can’t promise I’m the one you’re lookin’ for, but name’s Graham—decent cowboy, above-average boyfriend.”
I laugh, way too loud, my hand brushing his arm slowly. And yeah, I hope Trouble’s watching—because that laugh? That touch? They weren’t meant for Graham.
