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Uh-huh.
“What about the two of you?” Sawyer asked before I could poke him for more info.
“I run a grill and microbrewery. Small town back in Utah,” Gage said.
Probably no reason to keep it a secret since his name was literally on the place, and his face was in the ads.
“Nice.” Sawyer sounded like he meant it. “What about you, Evie?”
I wasn’t sure I liked the way he said my name. Rather, part of me imagined him whispering it in my ear, and the other half of me told me to stop swooning. “I tell you that and I have to kill you.” I winked. Why did I say that? Why did I do that? I was so fucking awkward sometimes. “Kidding. I own a hardware store. Nothing nearly that interesting or deadly.”
Sawyer’s eyes grew wide. “Really?” Like that his tone shifted.
Why? What was so special about my revelation? “Are you surprised because you don’t expect a girl to own a hardware store?” I hated to assume, but that was typically why people looked shocked when I told them what I did.
I’d hate to have to dislike this guy so soon in the conversation, if that was the case.
Sawyer grasped my fingertips, and I bit the inside of my cheek to swallow a gasp. Knock it off, me.
“Because people who work in hardware stores don’t tend to have perfectly manicured nails. Not for long, at least,” he said.
I pulled away, looking for that balance between casual disinterest and disdain. “I don’t usually. A friend got me a manicure for my… day.” I had a potent impulse to tell him anything he wanted to hear. To sit up and beg for attention and to be his good little girl.
And that just wasn’t going to do.
3
Sawyer
I should head to the roulette wheel and drop a couple grand on black, because this was one hell of a start to a lucky streak. Maybe I wouldn’t retaliate against my brother for this bullshit after all.
It wasn’t guaranteed this was the same woman I was looking for, but it seemed unlikely that there was more than one person named Evie who owned a hardware store in a small town in Utah.
Two choices sat in front of me. Introduce myself early, or spend a little time getting to know her and her friend, and feign ignorance when I met her again on Monday, and made my pitch.
I liked having surprise on my side, and knowing as much as I could before I went into a negotiation. Number two it was.
Was Gage a friend? A boyfriend? No rings on either of them, but that didn’t always mean anything. He’d tensed when I took Evie’s hand. Did she feel the same?
She was definitely interested in me. Was I going to use that to my advantage?
Fuck. Yes.
I wasn’t going home without buying her land, because that was the best way to ensure Dad signed his commercial real estate company over to me.
“Is that why you’re here?” I needed to keep this conversation friendly and flowing. “Celebrating your… day?” Birthday, I assumed. Anniversary? Maybe, but I was thinking no.
Gage shrugged. “Just seeing the sights. Living the life.”
“Are you.” Neither of those seemed like a real possibility here. “How does one do that here? Live the life?”
“Depends on your definition.” Evie was making me uncomfortable with the way she was treating those link sausages. “Where are you from?”
Where wasn’t I from? “Little bit of everywhere.” When we were little, Dad moved us a lot depending on his current project. I managed to get over that wanderlust as an adult. All the way into my forties. When my husband left me a couple of years ago, when my father took the opportunity to remind me that was what I got for being gay married, I decided being tied to a place wasn’t for me. “I suppose Atlanta most recently.”
“Then no. You’re not going to consider anything here living the life,” Evie said. “Especially not the strip club.”
I had no problem embracing my preferences and depravities, but, “It’s not even noon, and that’s the first place you think of that’s not a casino?”
