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“That’s because she’s great. I miss having a girlfriend around. It’s been too long, and Sawyer reminds me so much of Carrie.”
“I might have had a couple of these.” Sawyer raises her wineglass in the air before placing it to her lips and draining the remainder.
“I think you’ve had enough.” My voice is gruff even to my own ears.
“Oh, the boss says I can’t have anymore.” She giggles, setting her glass on the table.
“Really, Samantha? Why did you let her drink that much?”
“Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one that’s got her worried she’s going to get fired for being here. She can stay here.”
“I’ll take her home.” I stand and hold my hand out for her. “Time to go.”
“Oh, I’m not supposed to do that.” She points at my outstretched hand. “Mr. Riggins says I’m his, and I’m not allowed to do this. His brother held my hand, and he was mad.”
“Really?” Jase grins. “Tell us more, Sawyer,” he says.
“Mr. Rig—” she starts but stops suddenly when I step around the table and slide my arm around her waist.
“Time to go.”
Her body leans into mine, and I feel my world tilt on its axis, but I’ve not had a drop of alcohol. She stares up at me, her eyes glassy. “You smell good.”
Damn this woman. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“I miss this, Royce.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask her. We have yet to take a single step toward the door that gets us out of here. My best friends are enjoying this moment too much for my liking.
“Plane Royce. The gentleman who helped me over my fear. He’s nicer than broody CEO Royce.”
“Babe, you want some popcorn?” Jase asks.
I don’t pull my eyes from Sawyer, but I flip Jase the bird. His cackle tells me he got the message. “I’m the same man, Sawyer.”
“Nope. Not the same.” Reaching up, she rests her hand against my cheek. “I missed you.”
Something inside me shifts, and I want nothing more than to kiss the hell out of her. Right here. Right now. Consequences and audience be damned.
“Sawyer, call me,” Sam says, interrupting the moment.
“Girls’ night,” Sawyer replies.
“I’ll be back to get her car tomorrow,” I tell them.
“Drive safe,” Sam says.
“You kids be good. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Jase calls out.
With one arm around Sawyer and my hand on the door, I ignore him while making a mental note to buy their baby a set of drums and every other toy I can find that makes all kinds of noise. Payback’s a bitch.
I manage to get us in my car, but I have no idea where she lives. “Sawyer, can you tell me where you live?”
“Nope. I’m new here.” She’s wasted and cute as hell, and I can’t help but chuckle at her. Now that it’s just the two of us, I couldn’t care less if we drive around all night.
“I’ll be right back.” Climbing out of my car, I go to hers and don’t see a purse or anything that might have her license in it. Jogging to the front door, I knock, and Jase answers. “Did Sawyer bring a purse or anything with her license? I have no idea where she lives.”
“Nope,” he says, popping the p. “Didn’t see anything.”
“Can you ask Sam?”
“She’s already in bed.”
“It’s been maybe five minutes.”
“She’s growing my baby and gets tired easily.”
I don’t argue with him because what do I know about pregnant women? “Fine. I’ll be back in the morning for her car.”
“No rush. It’s fine where it is. Drive safe,” he says as he shuts the door in my face.
Jogging back to my car, I slide back behind the wheel and glance over at Sawyer. She’s sound asleep. I weigh my options. I could call Conrad and have him log into the HR files to get her address. Then I would have to explain why and how I ended up with Sawyer. Not on my top list of things to do tonight. The only other option is to take her to my place. When my brothers hear about this, they are never going to let me live it down.
Glancing over at sleeping beauty, I know what I’m going to do.
My place it is.Chapter 9SawyerI feel a flutter against my cheek and a hushed whisper telling me to wake up. My eyes slowly blink open to find Royce turned sideways in his seat, his head resting against the headrest, watching me. “There she is,” he says softly as his hand pushes my hair out of my eyes.
“Where am I?”
“We’re sitting in my driveway.”
“Why?”
“Because you were passed out, and I didn’t know where you lived.”
“You could have woken me up.”
“I tried, but you were out of it. You slept the entire way here.”
“How long was that?”
“About twenty minutes.”
“What are we doing now?” My mouth is dry, and I can hear the slow slur to my words with my own ears.
