Knowing Kennedy, he doubted it.
For longer than he cared to admit—at least two years if his memory served him well—he’d been actively pursuing her, not to mention rejected by her. For the longest time, she’d been in a relationship, and regardless of how much he’d wanted her, Sawyer would never go after another man’s woman. So, he’d bided his time and waited. Luckily, things hadn’t worked out with her and the guy—a deputy who worked for her father—which left her available once again. That’s when he’d decided to get serious. And honest to God, he wasn’t looking for a one-night roll in the hay, but no matter how hard he tried, she didn’t give him more than five minutes of her time.
Granted, he couldn’t very well blame her after how shitty he’d treated her in high school, but just like her, he’d changed since he’d been a stupid teenage boy only fueled by hormones. At least now, although he would admit he was still fueled by hormones, he knew right from wrong. But she didn’t seem to be all that forgiving of his past indiscretions.
He still remembered the way they’d treated her and several other kids in high school. It was certainly nothing to brag about, and truth be told, those memories, as well as additional events that had taken place after he’d left high school, had set him on the straight and narrow.
But she didn’t seem to be very accepting of the changes he’d made in the last sixteen years.
Although she did seem to have some interest, no matter how standoffish she was.
She was also a walking contradiction. He could see the way she was hovering on the edge of her seat, ready to bolt. Except, there was something hidden in the soft gray of her eyes. If he wasn’t mistaken, and he usually wasn’t, this woman wanted him, but she didn’t like the fact. Kennedy Endsley was just damn good at dodging him at every turn.
Despite her underlying interest that she thought she was concealing so damn well, he could see her hiding behind that proper, ladylike cloak. The one he wanted to rip right off her, baring her both physically and emotionally so he could get down to the woman beneath. The woman he wanted to make wild with the fiery passion he’d glimpsed on rare occasions. Sure, most of the time, Kennedy’s fiery passion was shrouded in irritation and disgust, but he couldn’t help but find that incredibly hot, too.
“Who’re you waitin’ for?” he asked, knowing good and damn well she hadn’t been waiting for anyone.
“What?”
Exactly.
“Exactly what?” she questioned.
Well, hell, he hadn’t meant to say the word out loud. “Who are you waitin’ for? You said you were meetin’ someone. I want to know who.”
Kennedy’s skeptical glare and the way she shifted her elegant auburn eyebrow up toward her hairline told him that she didn’t appreciate his matter-of-fact question, but Sawyer wasn’t about to beat around the bush. Not with her. He’d spent too long doing that already.
He knew based on their recent interactions that their time together was limited. She generally spared him five, maybe ten minutes tops, before she found a way to ditch him. As soon as she found a legitimate out, she would be gone, leaving him to sit at the table and watch her for as long as he could stand it.
Cocking his head to the side, he waited patiently for her to answer.
And as though the universe was against him, the front door of Moonshiners opened and in stepped none other than . . . Sheriff Endsley.
“Him,” she said suddenly, grabbing that fruity drink she preferred before she slipped out of the booth.
To his surprise, she spared him a backward glance and a ball-shriveling grin that told him to back off or else. He smiled, tipping his beer toward her in salute, and watched as she turned away and moved toward her father on the other side of the room. For long minutes, he continued to watch her, noticing the way she tried not to look back at him, but failed miserably.
“Well, well, well.” A familiar voice caught Sawyer’s attention and had him glancing up to see Greyson sliding into the booth across from him as if he’d been invited.
Taking a pull from his beer, Sawyer stared at his friend and waited for the shit storm that always followed Greyson’s arrival. He was damn near as incorrigible as Sawyer’s brothers.
“She’s still avoidin’ you, huh?”
“I’ll plead the fifth on that one.”
“Well, from what I could tell, you clocked more minutes with her tonight than you have in the entire last three months. I think it might actually be a record.”
The “fuck off” was about to roll right off Sawyer’s tongue when Greyson held his hand up, halting him from talking.