Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
For one night only! is on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it. I’m acting! I seriously need to get into character. And I will, just as soon as we get out of this house.
“Come on, Sawyer,” I grumble, walking out the front door without bothering to see if he’s following behind me. “Love you, Mom. Don’t wait up.”
Sawyer’s black truck is parked on the curb, an old Ford that’s seen better days. He’s driven it since high school, and I know his dad had it before him. For all I know, it’s older than I am.
“Now don’t go opening your own door,” Sawyer calls out behind me.
I turn, arch a brow, and proceed to pull the handle. The door pops open and he grins.
“I forget I’m supposed to tell you to do the opposite of what I want.”
I slip onto the old leather seat. “You don’t think I can be sweet and cooperative?”
He smiles as he draws near, then with a low teasing voice, he replies, “I think you might be with other people…”
If only he knew how accurate that statement was. I was always sweet and cooperative with Matthew. To a fault, in fact. Now I’m not sure whether Matthew’s leached every ounce of niceness out of me or if with Sawyer it’s just different.
“So, where are you taking me?” I ask once he’s buckled up.
“In that dress? Nowhere anyone else will see you.”
I can’t help but feel a little zing run through me. It’s his first mention of my outfit. To be honest, I was hoping for more. “Don’t tell me you’re the controlling type.”
I don’t sound impressed.
“Doesn’t matter. Apparently there’s no controlling you.”
I smirk and he sees it, pausing for a minute to really look me over before he pulls his truck away from the curb. His gaze is potent and unnerving. I can’t help but wring my hands for a minute. I really didn’t plan this out well. I should have had Kendra in an earpiece feeding me advice. How far does she want me to take this? What’s the end goal? Make him kiss me? Profess his love? Then what? Laugh in his face?
I turn toward him and smile gently, pretending to study him like I’m really interested. (Between you and me, it’s no trouble at all. In fact, I’d do it for free.)
“Right, well if you aren’t sure about our plans yet, we could always do dinner and a movie? Might still be tickets for the cinema downtown. Or we could drive to Doc’s and lose a few quarters to the jukebox. That thing still there or has it rusted over?”
“It’s still there, but I’ve got it handled.” He nods toward the back seat. “Those should fit you.”
He’s talking about the work boots resting on the seat. They’ve still got the tag on them.
“Fit me…for what?”
He grins. “You’ll see.”
CHAPTER 5
Sawyer’s family has owned and operated Starlight Vineyards since his great grandfather realized there was more money to be had selling wine than selling Texas peaches. As far as I know, their family owns more property surrounding Oak Hill than any other private landholder outside of the LBJ family, but who knows, that could just be talk around the town.
As Sawyer’s truck dips beneath the wrought iron entry gate, I realize I’ve never been on the property. David practically lived here as a teenager. He and Hunter used to work alongside Sawyer in the summers, and by late August the three of them would be so muscled and tanned the ladies in town would fan themselves when they walked past.
It’s fitting that Sawyer would bring me here of all places for our first date. I’m disappointed I didn’t put the pieces together earlier. What better place to woo unsuspecting females than to show them the wine empire your family owns? I bet hearts go aflutter when Sawyer lays out the acreage. It must be his go-to.
“Yeah, someday all of this will be mine. Should we make out now?”
Yuck.
I mean, c’mon. How pompous! How conniving! It’s so smarmy and lazy to use this vineyard to do the heavy lifting for him.
It’s breathtaking, I’ll give him that. A long country road lined with grapevines on both sides takes us deep into a valley bordered by low-lying hills. Though it’s the last thing I want to do, I compliment the vineyard, acting like I’m really blown away (I hate that I actually am).
“It’s really special” is his canned response. Then he looks out onto the landscape as if taking it in with fresh eyes, and I all but puke. How stupid does he think I am? How many pairs of work boots has he purchased in bulk from Costco? He probably buys them by the pallet. They give him a steep discount because they know he’s good for a few dozen pairs.