Free Dirty by Gina Watson Page A

organize the book drive, and I need to go take a look at how the restaurant is coming along.” His hair was brown, but not as brown as Sawyer’s. He’d started to get a little salt and pepper action around his temples that only made him look more handsome and distinguished. Like two of her brothers, he had the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. They seemed to smile eternally.
                  “Do you know a guy named Sawyer Murphy?”
                  “Went to school with a Murphy. Lost touch after high school though. I think she moved from the area.”
                  “Sawyer Murphy is my age. He works at the restaurant site.”
                  “Can’t say I’ve ever met him. Why?”
                  She shrugged and shook her head. “No reason.”
                  “Oh?” He smiled. “It’s been my experience that when a woman asks about a man there’s plenty of reason.”
                  She felt her lips curling into a smile of her own. “He works at Clara’s Cheese Shop part time. He also hunts boars and gators and such for extra money. He’s a hard worker. I really like him.”
                  “Do you now?” Her father grinned knowingly.
                  She took the chair next to his. “He works a lot and doesn’t really have any free time. He admitted we have a connection, but he said his life wasn’t his own. Do you know what that means?”
                  “Hmm. I suppose if he’s working so much he has needs. Expenses—maybe family to look after. He may be in debt.”
                  “I don’t know.”
                  “When I met your mother I worked more than I didn’t. Upwards of ninety hours per week. It didn’t stop me from courting her. There was nothing that could keep me away. Still isn’t. My schedule was tight, but we still found stolen moments and it made them that much more special. She’d bring lunch to me out in the oil field and we’d spread a blanket out picnic style and take our hour. When I look back at my life, those are some of the best memories.”
                  Courtney swiped a tear from her cheek. She wanted that—someone to worship her and whom she could worship in return.
                  “What’s this on the side of your face?” His palm gently rested on the bruised skin.
                  “I think I’m a little allergic to my new moisturizer.” She leaned in and kissed her father’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re back.”
                  “How about lunch? Just you and me.”
                  “Sounds great.”
    ***
                  Friday evening Courtney was glad Clara had invited her to the game night. Her bruises had faded enough that she could cover them with foundation and powder. She’d searched twice through her closet for her navy blue romper. Sucking on the pad of her thumb a thought crossed her mind. Dammit, Ari! She padded with purpose toward her sister’s room, throwing the door open in her irritation.
                  The vision before her had her sucking in huge amounts of air and coughing. “Ari!” She closed the door and clasped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
                  The door opened and Ari emerged wearing her LSU shorts and tank top, her hair sinking from its elastic band. “Hey, Court!” Her voice was overly high in pitch.
                  “Oh my God, Ari. What the hell?”
                  “What?”
                  “What? Seriously?…you were riding a black man in your bed.”
                  The door opened again and revealed the man who Courtney,  upon getting a better look,   recognized as Ezekiel Donovan, LSU quarterback. “Hey, Courtney.” At least he had the decency to cast his eyes down in