Activity at the bar picked up at halftime, so she left Sawyer to his beer as she filled drink orders at lightning speed. Once the game started again and patrons turned their attention back to the televisions, she called for Belinda to take over bartending duties so she could have a breather.
She walked around the bar to Sawyer, who hadn’t so much as turned his head to look at the game the entire time he’d been sitting there. Despite being Mr. Football, he made it more than clear with his actions that he was there to seeher. The realization sent a heady sensation through her.
“Can I tear you away from your barstool?” she asked.
“You can tear me away from anything you please. You have my undivided attention.”
His words should have made her feel empowered, but Paxton realized he held the same power over her. She couldn’t think of anything he could ask her to do right now that she wouldn’t gladly oblige. The most astonishing thing in all of this was the fact that those thoughts didn’t scare her senseless. She, who prided herself on always being in control, on being independent, would willingly do whatever Sawyer asked of her.
As she took him by the hand, she noticed Belinda looking at them as if she wanted to snatch Paxton away from him and put her protectively behind her back. Paxton looked at her with a raised brow, but her mother didn’t respond. She just continued to look at them in that strange, overly cautious way.
Paxton guided Sawyer into the kitchen, where she picked up the load of scraps Jessie had placed on a tin dish for Heinz, then she led him out of the back door to the outside storage shed, which held a second deep freezer and the cleaning supplies.
Using a metal rod tied to the door handle, she rapped on the edge of the tin dish a couple of times, calling for Heinz. The oversized mutt crawled from his favorite spot underneath the bar and galloped over to them, his ears and jowls flopping.
“Here you go, boy,” Paxton said, setting his food before him. She grabbed his empty water dish and filled it using the tap that ran from the bar.
“Does your mom know you missed the dog more than you missed her while you were in Little Rock?”
Paxton gave him the evil eye. “You’d better not say anything.”
Sawyer’s shoulders shook with his laugh. “I may just have to use that for blackmail.”
She tried to maintain her harsh look but couldn’t hold it together. “To be honest, Belinda probably already knows. Heinz has had my heart since I found him hurt on the side of Highway 421 about eight years ago. He was still a puppy.”
“Why that name? It sounds like he was named after a banker or something.”
“Actually, he’s named after the steak sauce.”
Sawyer’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“Heinz 57?” Paxton said. “As in fifty-seven varieties? He’s made up of so many different breeds that we can’t decide exactly what he is. He’s a mutt in the truest sense, but I love him.”
“I’d say the feeling is mutual,” Sawyer said, gesturing to the way the dog rubbed against her leg now that he was done with his dinner. “Of course, if you fed me Jessie’s cooking and rubbed me behind the ear, I’d do the same thing. Maybe we should try that later.”
A wicked gleam shining in his eyes, Sawyer took a step toward her. He stopped when Heinz let out a low, menacing growl.
“Heel, boy,” Paxton called over her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around Sawyer’s neck and backed him up against the side of the shed. “I know this is asking for trouble,” she said as she kissed just below his jawline. The faint stubble from his five o’clock shadow caused all kinds of sensations to swirl throughout her. “But I can’t seem to help it.”
“Don’t try,” he said, reversing their positions and pinning her against the building. As his mouth zeroed in on her lips, his hands went straight for her ass.
A moan crawled from Paxton’s throat as she undulated against the part of him swelling against her stomach.
“This is crazy. This is crazy. This is crazy,” she murmured over and over against his lips.
“This is right,” Sawyer returned. “But if we don’t stop, your mom will probably find us together and beat me away with a frying pan.”
Paxton chuckled at the image, but it also roused her curiosity. “I’m not sure why she’s so hostile toward you,” she said. “Belinda is never like that.”
He shrugged, his lips seeking out her neck. “She probably knows what we did last night and doesn’t want me corrupting you.”
“It’s a bit too late for that,” Paxton said with a laugh.
“As much as I love feeling up her daughter, I don’t want to feel her wrath.” He nudged along her collarbone, moistening the skin with his wet kisses. “I know it’s a drive, but do you want to come over to my place once the game is over? Please, don’t say anything but yes.”
“Yes,” Paxton said, loving the desperation in his voice. It matched what she was feeling.
Goodness, why had she fought this for so long?
