Free Marriage to the Second Degree - Part 1 by Kendra Thomas

 
    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