if he was out of his jeans.
Carefully, she unfastened them, thankful to see that he was wearing black briefs or boxers beneath. As she started to work the jeans down his body, he raised his hips to aid her.
“Thanks, Clay,” he muttered.
She got the jeans down to his ankles and realized she hadn’t taken off his boots. She tugged them off, along with his socks, and then dropped his jeans to the floor. She took out his wallet and placed it on the nightstand.
Lordy, lordy... A fully dressed Sawyer was sexy, but a nearly naked Sawyer wearing only a pair of black boxers and stretched out on her lavender sheets nearly stopped her heart.
She turned out the overhead light, leaving only the illumination from a night-light plugged into an outlet next to the bed. She fully admitted that she’d lost her ever-lovin’ mind. But now she was fully committed to being temporarily insane.
Carefully, she crawled into bed, not touching him in any way. He smelled good, like minty soap, a woodsy cologne and a hint of beer.
Even though she wasn’t touching him, his body heat warmed her in a delicious way and she fought the impulse to lean into him.
As she closed her eyes, she wished this was for real. She wished Sawyer Quincy was in her bed because he wanted to be, because he had chosen to be with her out of all the women in Bitterroot.
* * *
Consciousness came to Sawyer in bits and pieces. The first thing he noticed was that the sheets smelled like flowers. With his eyes still closed, he frowned, wondering how flowers had gotten into his bed.
Of course it wouldn’t be the first time he’d awakened after a Saturday night of drinking to find something strange in his bed. The other men were real jokesters and in the past he’d awakened to discover he was sharing the bed with a salami sandwich, a dead fish, a prickly tumbleweed and his saddle, just to name a few.
He cracked open an eyelid to the early morning sun drifting through a window...not his window. He’d never seen that window before with its frilly white curtains. Where in the hell was he? With both eyes wide open, the next thing he noted was that he was in a four-poster bed with purple sheets. His hat hung on one of the posters, as if it belonged there.
He turned over and nearly jumped out of the bed. A woman...in the bed...with him... Who was she? She faced away from him and all he could see was short, thick, dark hair and creamy bare shoulders beneath hot-pink spaghetti straps.
His shock forced a loud gasp from his throat. He remained frozen in surprise as the woman rolled over, shoved the hair away from her face and gave him a sleepy, sexy smile.
“Good morning, lover,” she said.
Lover... Janis? His brain short-circuited. Hell’s bells, what had he done last night?
“Uh...good morning,” he managed to reply.
He tensed as she snuggled up against him. Of their own volition, his arms went around her. Her silky nightgown was a poor barrier, as he could feel not only the heat of her breasts against him but also the hint of taut nipples.
“Last night was the most wonderful night of my life,” she murmured into the hollow of his neck. “You’re the best, Sawyer. You made my whole body sing with pleasure.”
“Yeah, uh, likewise.” As hard as he tried, he couldn’t remember what had happened between them that had gotten them here in her bed. The last thing he did remember was her serving him a third beer.
His impulse was to grab his boots and britches and run like hell out the door. However, his mother had raised him better than that. But he definitely didn’t want to hang around and chat long enough for her to realize he had no memory of making her sing with pleasure. He’d always liked Janis and the last thing he’d want to do was to hurt her feelings.
Despite his shock at the position he found himself in, his body began to respond to her closeness. Thankfully, at that moment, she rolled away from him and sat up. “How about I fix you a nice, big breakfast? You more than earned it after last night.”
Had her eyes always been that inviting shade of caramel? Had her dark eyelashes always been so long? He’d never noticed before now. He quickly averted his gaze and looked around the room. There wasn’t much to look at and certainly no kitchen anywhere in sight.
“You seem to be missing some important things...like a stove and a refrigerator.” He frantically continued to search his mind for any memory from the night before.
He usually just passed out when he drank, but he had suffered a couple of blackouts in the past. Once he’d found himself sleeping in the pasture next to the pond after the other men had insisted they’d put him in his own bed. Another time he’d planted himself in Mac’s room and had sung all the country-western songs he’d ever known. The next day he’d had no memory of it.
“I have all the equipment I need just outside that door,” she said. He knew she was referring to the bar’s kitchen.
She scooted off the bed and Sawyer averted his gaze once again, but not before he caught a glimpse of long, shapely, bare legs beneath her hot-pink nightie.
“I’ll be right back and we can talk about breakfast.” She disappeared through a door he assumed led to a bathroom.
The minute the door closed behind her, he leaped out of bed. He searched frantically on the floor for his jeans and shirt. When he found them, he dressed as quickly as possible. No matter what had happened between them the night before, he wasn’t comfortable being nearly naked in her bed.
He needed to get out...to get away and process the night he couldn’t remember. How did this change things? What were the consequences? It was obvious she was thrilled with whatever had occurred.
You’re the best, Sawyer. You made my whole body sing with pleasure.
Her words echoed in his brain as he pulled on his boots. At least she’d been pleased with his performance, he thought with a touch of pride.
The pride didn’t last long. In truth, he was ashamed. He grabbed his wallet off the nightstand and opened it, frowning as he saw the condom he carried still in place. Oh, crap, they hadn’t even had protected sex.
His mama would be rolling around in her grave knowing that he’d gotten drunk and taken some random woman to bed.
Only, Janis wasn’t exactly random. He’d always found her pleasant and pretty. He’d just never thought of her that way before. Geez, what had he done?
He grabbed his cell phone out of his jeans’ pocket and dialed the number for Clay. Clay had a reputation as a womanizer. He’d know what to do in this situation.
He released a sigh of relief as Clay answered.
“Come get me,” Sawyer said without preamble.
Clay laughed. “What’s the matter, bro? Having a rough morning after?”
“Just come and pick me up behind the bar.”
Sawyer had just pocketed his cell phone when Janis stepped out of the bathroom. He swallowed hard. He’d thought she was in there getting
