Marriage to the Second Degree - Part 1

Chapter One

“Sawyer, I want to have a word with you.”

Transfixed by the football game playing on the big screen television at his favorite local bar, it took Sawyer Malone a moment to register who was talking to him over the din of the sportscaster. 

“Mckenzie.”  His heart jolted in recognition as he narrowly avoided elbowing his bottle of beer.  “What are you doing here?”

If he were to conquer up a favorite female fantasy, Mckenzie Reynolds would definitely rank up there with Angelina Jolie or Cindy Crawford, and without taxing his imagination too much he could recall how Mckenzie had felt in his arms.  For bonus points he could even remember how she had felt wrapped around him as she sighed his name.  Although considering she had walked out on him three years ago, it was unlikely he’d get the opportunity to refresh any of those memories.   

“We need to talk.  Outside.”  The temper sparking in vivid blue eyes confirmed the unlikelihood of him reliving any romantic encounters.

Thinking that whatever conversation they were about to have, it might not be a bad idea to have witnesses, he gestured to the empty bar stool to his left.  “We can talk in here.”  Although it was Friday, the crowd inside Gabby’s remained light. 

“No, we can’t.”  Taking his hand, she started for the door, leaving him little choice but to follow.

Mckenzie led the way across the scarred black and white checkered floors, bypassing uneven bar stools, and table legs propped up with matchbooks.  Gabby’s was the only bar in town which featured one bathroom, for men and women, and the most updated song on the jukebox was popular during the Clinton administration.  Sawyer could easily afford to drink in a trendier bar, hell, he could easily afford to buy a trendier bar, but he’d been coming to Gabby’s for years and he loved the place.  Bad checkered flooring and all.

Mckenzie pushed opened the heavy wooden door and stepped into the mild autumn evening.  Gabby’s location wasn’t much better than its décor, and the only thing outside the bar was a parking lot with a dilapidated pickup truck sitting in the far corner, and a few buzzing street lights.  The customers’ cars varied in age, and he assumed the two newest looking ones belonged to him and Mckenzie.  To the right side of the bar was an unpainted picnic table the employees sometimes used during their breaks, with a lone oak tree and a dumpster. 

Mckenzie headed for the picnic table, stray pebbles skittering aside as they walked.  When she and Sawyer had dated they had spent a fair amount of time at Gabby’s.  Like him, Mckenzie had appreciated the friendliness of the staff, and the down home atmosphere. 

It would probably be considered bad form for him to admit that the
entire time Mckenzie walked in front of him that he was checking out her ass.  Especially considering she was clearly mad as hell at him, and he should probably be thinking about how to make her not mad as hell at him, but there you had it. 

Damn, but she did some serious justice to a pair of denims.

She came to a standstill next to the table, slivers of moonlight shining down from above, as she leaned backwards against the edge.  “Why did you tell the press you and I are engaged?” 

“Because I knew when you read it in the papers, you’d find me to give me hell about it,” he said easily, grateful it was still warm enough he didn’t need his jacket as he’d left his inside the bar.  “You haven’t returned any of my calls.  I didn’t know how else to get your attention.”

“So you told the press that we’re engaged?”  The vexed lift to her eyebrow suggested he should probably duck, but Mckenzie wasn’t known for her violent tendencies.  Usually.

“Well, it worked didn’t it?”  He reclined against the table next to her.  Not that he liked making her mad, but he really wanted to talk to her.

“And why did you want to talk to me?”  Her blond hair reflected a slightly orange tint from the dim glow of a nearby streetlight.

“Because I was hoping you and I could give things another chance.”  Not in the least put off by her frown, he told her what he’d been trying to tell her for the past few weeks.

Her stance not changing, she stared at him.  “Sawyer, you and I were a
disaster together.

“Not all the time,” he said.  “If I remember correctly there were a few things you and I were very good at.”

He assumed her resigned sigh was supposed to give him the impression that she found this conversation trying, although her telltale blush told a different story.  She remembered all too well how good they’d been in bed together, even if she was trying to pretend it no longer mattered.

“You see, this is exactly why I never returned your calls.”  Clearly irritated, although _he suspected it was due more to the nature of their conversation than anything else, she lifted a resigned hand.

“Why?  Afraid you might admit that you miss me?”

“No, it’s because you’re impossible.”  As far as insults went, he’d been called worse, and actually that was a lot nicer than he’d expected her to say.  “You need to tell the press you and I aren’t engaged,” she went on.  “I’ve been getting phone calls for a week asking when the big day is, and no one wants to believe that I don’t want to marry you.”

“Of course they don’t.  Don’t you read the papers?  Apparently I’m quite a catch.”  His attempt to interject a touch of humor into the conversation fell flat as she gazed skyward, the shake of her head decidedly frustrated. 

“I should have known better than to think I could talk to you,” she muttered, before shoving away from the table.

Knowing that if he let her walk away now, he may never get another
chance to talk to her, he snaked his arm around her waist, and tugged her to a halt. 

“Mckenzie, I’ll talk to the press if you agree to have dinner with me.”  It had been three years since he had last had his hands on her, and as much as he liked touching her, he doubted she’d let him keep them there.

“And why would I want to have dinner with you?”  She didn’t look any less mad, but at least she hadn’t pulled away.  Yet.

“Because I’d like a chance to clear the air.”  He dropped his teasing manner as he wasn’t joking about wanting to give things another shot. 

Their happily ever after had gotten cut short after she miscarried, and neither of them had known how to be there for the other.  And in her confusion, Mckenzie had called off their wedding.  Blaming each other had been convenient, if not entirely accurate, but he’d wasted enough time regretting his mistakes. 

“Sawyer.”  Her tone still contained a sizzle of frustration, but he suspected it was no longer just because of the newspaper announcement.  “What’s done is done.  Why can’t we just leave it at that?”

“Because I made a mistake letting you walk away, and I want to correct that mistake.”  He knew he was going out on a major limb telling her that, and now he was perched so precariously a twitch of a leaf was liable to make him fall, but it would be worth it if she agreed to see him again.  “Have dinner with me.  That’s all I’m asking.  If you still don’t want to see me after that, I’ll leave you alone.”

A light breeze scattered leaves across the weedy patch of grass, as a cloud played tag with the moon.  Confusion had replaced frustration and anger as the primary emotions in her eyes.  It wasn’t much of an improvement, but confusion at least said she was thinking about agreeing.  Even if she suspected it was a bad idea.

“And what could either of us possibly say that would make any difference?” she wanted to know.

“I can think of a few things,” he said, watching the struggle of emotions play across her pretty features.  “Like telling you how much I’ve missed you.”

His simple words combined with the light sweep of his hand against her cheek seemed to increase her discomfort.

“Yes, but that’s just it,” she said, her breath hitching as she swallowed.  “I can’t – I mean we can’t – “ 

As her ability to form coherent sentences deserted her, Sawyer sensed her weakening resolve.  If he didn’t say anything stupid, it was likely he could get her to agree.

“It’s just dinner, Mckenzie,” he said softly, in an attempt to make dinner sound as unthreatening as possible, although he knew it wasn’t the meal she was concerned about.  “I’m just asking you to dinner.”

Headlights swept over them, briefly illuminating the area beyond the picnic table, but their stances remained unchanged. 

“But that’s just it,” she said, her voice tinged with something he couldn’t
quite identify, “it’s never just about dinner with you and me.”

“I see you do remember.”  Given the uncertainty of which she had uttered her previous statement, he doubted she needed any reminders of what they had once shared, but he would have willingly given her demonstration.  Had she been so inclined.

“Yes, I remember, but it doesn’t matter.  You and I have been over for a long time.”

It didn’t surprise him that she was playing the ‘it’s doesn’t matter’ card, despite the fact that he suspected they both knew it was bullshit.

“If it doesn’t matter, then why are you here?”  After all, she was the one who had sought him out, and it couldn’t have been just because of what she’d read in the papers.  If she just wanted to tell him off, she could have done that over the phone.

A dog barking in the distance broke the uneasy silence as their gazes held, and then by degree she tipped her hand in a gesture that could only be construed as acceptance.

“Fine,” she gradually relented despite the resignation in her tone, which he suspected was more for his benefit than hers.  “You can pick me up to tomorrow night at eight.”

For a brief beat in time, she remained in his arms, memories and heartache sizzling between them.  Attempting a goodbye kiss would no doubt be pushing his luck, not that it didn’t occur to him, but Lady Luck typically had her limits and Sawyer suspected he had reached his.  And as
Mckenzie walked away, he watched her, his emotions tangling with what once was.  She had left him once despite the promises that had been made.  Was he setting himself up for another heart wrenching failure?

But she had agreed to have dinner with him, and Lady Luck might just be in another favoring mood.  And who knows, by tomorrow night he might just have enough luck left over to consider a good night kiss.

Chap
ter Two

Her mirror reflected the image of a young woman dressed in white capris and an ice blue cami fluffing her fingers through her shoulder length blond hair in preparation of a dinner date.  Her makeup had been applied, subtly, her favorite sandals had been dusted off, and she had even put some thought into her underwear.  A selection of jewelry was displayed across her vanity, a favorite drop pendant necklace, a pair of gold hoop earrings, although she had debated about whether she needed a bracelet.  Charm bracelets while cute could get annoying with all that tickling, and Mckenzie’s nerves were unsettled enough.

Pausing in mid-thought, a weighty sigh had her staring at the ceiling.  What in the hell had she been thinking agreeing to have dinner with Sawyer?  She had about much resistance to him as flies did to fly paper, or stains to her favorite white jeans.  The man was walking sex in a pair of tight denims, and every time he put his hands on her, putty would have been less malleable. 

So why had she sought him out?

Well, besides the fact that she’s an idiot, his phone calls were mostly to blame.  Hearing his voice again, even on Voice Mail, had conquered up
memories of days past.  Falling in love with Sawyer had been easier than falling off the proverbial log, and infinitely more pleasurable.  Falling out of love with him had required a bit more effort, and had invoked a huge number of tears, endless soul searching, and an infinite supply of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.  Generally Chunky Monkey was her flavor of choice, although Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough would suffice in a pinch.  Yet none of those things had ever come close to filling the void.