Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“What’s all that?” she asks as I meet her in the kitchen.
“Just in case.” I place a kiss on her lips. “We’re going to take my truck.”
“You have a truck?”
“I’m a country boy. Of course, I have a truck.”
“Country boy? You’re in a suit and tie on the daily, Riggins.”
“That’s work me, and I was raised loving the outdoors. You can’t live in Tennessee and not have some country boy running through your veins.” I snag my arm around her waist. “Just another layer, baby.” She grins, and I would do anything to keep that smile on her face.
“Show me the beast,” she says, pulling out of my arms.
“What makes you think it’s a beast?”
“You don’t do anything halfway, Royce Riggins.”
“Nope.” She’s right. “Come on.” With her hand locked in mine, I lead her out of the house to the attached garage, out the side door, and to the external garage. My truck is a long bed and doesn’t fit in the house garage. Not to mention my car and SUV are parked there.
“Not as bad as I thought,” Sawyer says when I open the back door of my truck, tossing the sweatshirt and blanket inside.
I chuckle. “I’m glad that you approve. Let me help you up.” I open the passenger door for her, and before she can protest, I have my hands on her hips, lifting her into the truck. “Buckle up, baby.”
As soon as I’m behind the wheel and we’re on the road, I reach over, take her hand, and lace my fingers with hers. I’m inwardly cursing that I didn’t buy a bench seat. Regardless, my hands are on her, and that’s enough to calm the raging storm that was coursing through me earlier tonight.
“You sure this is okay?” she asks when I park next to Grant’s truck at the lake.
“Yes.”
“What are they going to think? I mean, if they ask me, what do I say? About us?”
The cab of the truck is dark. Nothing but the light of the fire behind us offering a dim glow. Turning in my seat, I place my palm against her cheek. “You tell them that it’s none of their business. You tell them that you’re mine.”
“Am I yours?”
“Yes.”
“Royce, there are so many things—” she starts, but I lean in a little closer and press my lips to her to stop her.
“We’ll figure it out. I want you to be mine, Sawyer.”
“Does that mean you’re mine?” she counters.
That twisting feeling is back; only this time, it’s my heart that feels constricted at her question. “Yeah, baby. I’m all yours,” I assure her with another kiss to her lips. “Now, let me show you what it’s like when you get all five Riggins brothers together for a bonfire and a few beers.”
“How are they getting home?”
“They’ll stay at Mom and Dad’s, or Owen will drive them home.”
“He doesn’t drink?”
“Very rarely. He likes control, and he can’t have that when he drinks.” I watch her closely, waiting for more questions.
“They’re going to come knocking,” she says.
“You know them too well.” One more kiss and I reach for the door. “I’ll come get you down.”
“I can manage.”
“Don’t care. I want my hands on you.” I give her a look that tells her to stay put and hop out of the truck.
She listens, and with my hands on her waist, I lift her from the truck. I don’t set her on her feet until I’ve kissed her sweet lips once more. Hand in hand, we make our way to the back of the truck, and over to the bonfire my brothers are sitting around.
Chapter 17
Sawyer
Four sets of eyes turn to look at us, and I grip Royce’s hand tighter. I should be doing the opposite, letting him go under their stare, but I don’t want to lose my connection to him.
“’Bout time you got here,” Marshall calls out.
“Wow, this is not what I expected.” My eyes widen in surprise.
Royce stops and gives me his full attention. “We can go,” he says softly, just for me.
“No, that’s not what I meant. You said bonfire, and I imagined a big fire in the middle of a field.”
“That’s what this is.”
“No, this is stunning. An actual stone fire pit, Adirondack chairs, pebbled rock all the way around, picnic tables, this is more… fancy than I pictured.”
He smiles down at me, pushing my hair out of my eyes. “That’s all Mom. She comes down here sometimes. A few years ago, we decided to have a fire after several days of rain, and it was a muddy mess, Mom got on the phone the next day, and this was the result. We can come here no matter if it’s muddy and not be slopping around in it. Of course, there’s the walk from the truck, but we can all back in and get close enough that it’s just a few steps.