Sawyer Read online Samantha Whiskey (Carolina Reapers #2)

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Carolina Reapers Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
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He blinked a few times, his brow furrowing at my words. “Who are you?” He pushed off the bar, shaking his head.

“Echo Hayes. I don’t believe we’ve ever truly met.” I arched a brow at him and jerked my head toward the exit.

He scoffed, then swung through the door like he was trying to bust it.

Luckily for him, he didn’t. Because if he’d damaged one thing in this bar I would’ve used the scythe on him.

“Well,” Annabelle said after a few breaths. “That was entertaining.”

I shook out my fingers which were trembling from the adrenaline it took to stand up to Chad, to stand up to my past and put it to bed. I felt lighter than I had in years.

“So,” Annabelle said. “Are you going to call him back and talk to him about that key burning in your pocket?”

I parted my lips, then shut them. A surprised laugh escaped my lips as I realized I hadn’t even thought about the key when Sawyer called. I couldn’t see past the fear of him possibly being hurt. Though, now that I was thinking clearly, I suppose Axel would be the one to call me if he was injured, or Langley or Faith or Harper or anyone else other than Sawyer himself.

“Yes,” I said, resolved. “I will call him after the game and discuss the seriousness of the situation.” I held my serious face for about two seconds before we both descended into laughter.

After a second rush due to the Reapers’ game my muscles were aching. Hopping from bar to tables to kitchen to bar again was an all-night affair, and I definitely had a bubble bath with my name on it.

I peeled my clothes off, tossing them into the hamper as my old claw-foot tub—my absolute favorite thing about my home—filled to the brim with steaming hot water and more bubbles than was likely necessary. I walked naked to my kitchen as the bath finished filling, pouring myself a hearty glass of red wine—my go-to relax drink.

I set it on the small wooden table next to the tub, along with my phone after I’d hit play on my favorite wind-down list. Nights like tonight left my skin vibrating with a buzzing hum as if all the energy from the bar patrons had transferred to me personally. I was beyond exhausted, but there was no way I could crash into bed yet. Not without coming down first.

The steaming water slid around my skin like a glove, the bubbles light and fresh scent surrounded me as I sank up to my neck. I leaned my head back on the edge of the tub, my hair piled high in a messy knot on my head.

A sweet sigh escaped my lips as the water did everything to help my tight muscles unwind. My playlist was shuffling to a Steeldrivers song when the words suddenly cut off, taken over by an incessant buzzing.

I dried off one hand on the towel hanging from the table and slid the bar on my screen to see the text.

Sawyer: Back at hotel now.

My eyes widened a bit, and I resisted the urge to facepalm myself. It had been an insanely busy night and I totally forgot I’d told Sawyer I’d call him after the game. Though, to be fair, I’d planned on doing it when I hit the bed, assuming he’d be out celebrating after the game.

I lifted my other hand to text back but didn’t have the energy to dry it off so I hit the call button instead and brought the cell to my ear.

“Thought you preferred texting,” Sawyer said by way of answer.

I tried to contain my smile at the sound of his voice. one hand free.”

“Well, I’m soaking in the tub, so I only have one free hand.”

“Is that right?” His voice went from bemused to husky in the span of a breath.

“Yes,” I said, sighing as I stretched in the water a bit.

“Long night?”

“Not as long as yours,” I said.

“Detroit put up a hell of a fight.”

“Not as much as you,” I said, my eyelids closing. “You were incredible.”

“You can’t say things like that when you’re naked and wet.”

My eyes popped open at the growl in his tone. “Excuse me? Mr. McCoy I’m allowed to say anything I want,” I teased.

“Of course you are, Ms. Hayes,” he said, trying his best to adapt my natural southern drawl. It was adorable. “But do so knowing that I’m in physical pain.”

“Poor baby hockey star,” I said. “Such a hard life.”

“Some parts are definitely hard.”

I froze a little at that declaration, a heat churning between my thighs that had nothing to do with the water.

“Is that right?” I mimicked him.

“That’s right.”

“Did you tell me you had a roommate on away games?”

“I did.”

“Who is it?”

“Cannon,” Sawyer said. “But he’s out for the night.”



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