The Renegade
Chapter 3

Jo could count the number of times she’d slept in over the past five years on one hand and have fingers to spare. So, of course, given the chance to hit snooze as many times as she’d like, her eyes flew open at six a.m., refusing to close long enough for her to drift back off.

“Damn it,” she muttered after fifteen minutes of trying anyway. At least now she could FaceTime with Mikayla before her morning got busy with script studying and reading up on this project.

Also, she could spend a good hour or two thinking of the fact that Sawyer had asked her out on a date after knowing her for all of two hours. Sawyer, with his flirty smile that turned her into a great, big pile of hormones. Sawyer, who had made her feel far too good when he’d asked her about herself with genuine interest.

Sawyer, who made her want to throw all of her carefully crafted caution out the window so she could impulsively climb him like a fifteen-foot spruce, and okay, yeah. She needed a shower. The colder, the better.

An hour later, Jo was up, dressed, and no less hopelessly horny than she had been when she’d thrown off the covers. But honestly, she couldn’t shoulder all of the blame. Yeah, her girly bits had gone neglected for the past…ugh, too long, and her vibrator only got her so far. But Sawyer was freaking beautiful. With those lean muscles and that melty, dark brown stare, it wasn’t her fault that she’d been a little hypnotized by his flirting.

Girl. That’s not hypnotized. It’s dicknotized, and you’ve been there, done that. Got the kid and the single-parent lifestyle to prove it.

The thought, plus a quick scroll through her phone, fixed those errant, impulsive thoughts right up. Derek might’ve been the love of her life once, but their relationship had started in a whirlwind and grown serious, fast. The surprise pregnancy five months into things had only made their relationship more intense, and by the time Jo was showing, she’d been starting to see the signs that, while Derek seemed committed to their soon-to-be-born child, his commitment to her had dimmed. When she’d caught him cheating the first time, he’d sworn it was an error in judgment.

The second time? Jo realized she’d been the one to make an error in judgment. But Derek had never wavered as a parent, supporting Mikayla financially as well as being very involved in her day-to-day care. Despite the fact that it had taken Jo a long time to get over the sting of their relationship collapsing (there may or may not have been a period of time when Jo and Frankie referred to him exclusively as “Dickweasel Derek”), ultimately, it was for the best. Mikayla had two parents who loved her. Jo and Derek were raising her amicably and equally. Sure, Jo had shifted her priorities in order to focus on single parenting, and yes, that included both her career and her (complete lack of) s*x life, but things could be a hell of a lot worse.

At least she’d learned to take things slow and trust caution over impulse.

Jo tapped the icon beside Derek’s name, propping her phone up on the kitchen counter as she poured herself a ginormous cup of coffee.

“Hey, Jo,” he said, his face appearing on her screen. “You’re up early.”

“Sorry. I know mornings are hectic, but I just wanted to catch Mikayla before you take her to school.”

Derek shook his head, as laid back as ever. “It’s all good. She’s having breakfast. Hang on and I’ll give her the phone.”

“Thanks.”

Mikayla’s face filled the screen a minute later, making Jo’s heart squeeze. “Hi, sweetheart. How’s it going with Daddy?”

“Good. We watched a movie last night with his new girlfriend. She wears sparkly l*p gloss and giggles a lot, but she’s nice.”

That sounded on-brand for Derek. “I’m glad you had fun,” Jo said. “Did Mr. Callaghan like your Popsicle-stick tower?”

“Oh, yes,” Mikayla said, giving up a gap-toothed grin. “He said it was ‘impressive’.”

“It was pretty awesome,” Jo said. She’d only been semi-kidding about the possibility of still having glue in her hair. “Well, I just wanted to check in super quick and tell you that I love you. I’ll call again in a couple of days, okay? But you can ask Daddy to text me any time.”

“I know, Mommy.” Mikayla nodded at the screen. “Have fun getting ready for your audition.”

Jo’s heart considered exploding, but she kept herself in check and smiled as brightly as she could. “Thanks, butter bean. Love you.”

Ending the call, Jo grabbed her cup of coffee and decided to get to work. She’d no sooner gotten settled on the couch with her printed copy of the audition script though, when a knock sounded off on the door to the apartment.

Jo padded over, looking through the peephole cautiously. Frankie gave up a wave from the threshold, with Isabella standing beside her, and Jo unlocked the door to let them both in.

“Holy crap, you guys start early,” Jo said, but Frankie just laughed and held up a box with a pink and black logo reading Sweetie Pies.

“It’s never too early for sugar and carbs.”

“Or coffee,” Isabella added, moving to the breakfast bar, then passing a cardboard cup over to Jo. “Vanilla latte with oat milk and cinnamon, right?”

“You brought me coffee?” Jo asked, although she took the cup, because a) it smelled far more heavenly than what she’d just brewed, and b) it was her favorite, and she wasn’t stupid.

“I brought you ‘thank you’ coffee,” Isabella said. “Word is, you totally helped take care of Elijah last night after we had to run. When Frankie said she was heading over here to bring you breakfast, I invited myself to come, too. She told me what to order.”

Jo shook her head. “That’s nice of you, but really, it was nothing.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Frankie sing-songed, plucking a cruller from the box. “Apparently, you saved Sawyer’s bacon.”

“I didn’t do anything to Sawyer’s bacon,” Jo said, realizing a beat too late that it sounded vaguely dirty. “He just needed a little help replaceing the baby’s pacifier, is all.”

Frankie swapped a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it look with Isabella before turning back to the box on the breakfast bar. “Well, if that’s ‘thank you’ coffee, then these are apology pastries. Wait, is that a thing?”

“Yes,” Jo said. “I don’t know what you’re sorry for, but whatever it is, gimme.”

Frankie laughed and handed over a chocolate glazed donut. “I’m sorry I had to bolt like that on your first night in town. There was a bomb scare downtown, but it ended up being fine, mostly because Remington’s SWAT team is as good as the police force.”

“If we do say so ourselves,” Isabella chimed in with a grin.

“No one was hurt, and the suspect was apprehended and handed over to the FBI. I’m glad it all turned out okay, but I hate that we had to leave you by yourself,” Frankie said.

Jo took a bite of her donut, the sweet, cakey goodness making her sigh. “Oh, it was fine. And I wasn’t by myself. I hung out with Sawyer.”

Frankie wasted not one nanosecond before pouncing like a jungle cat. “I knew it! Spill the details.”

Ugh, there was no way of getting around this. Her sister was a detective, with interrogation skills and everything. “There are no details. At least, not the kind you’re looking for,” Jo said pointedly. “He took pity on me, sitting at the bar by myself, and we got to talking.”

Both Frankie and Isabella stared at her, and she had no choice but to confess the rest. “He, um, also might have asked me to meet him out later tonight. But I really don’t think it’s a big deal.”

“Bullshit!” Frankie crowed. “That’s a date.”

“Hate to say it, but yep. Totally a date,” Isabella agreed.

“It might be a date,” Jo agreed. God, this was crazy. “But I’m sure he goes on tons of them.”

Tipping her head, Isabella said, “Actually, I don’t think so. Kellan hangs out with Sawyer kind of on the regular. There’s a veterans’ group that meets up a few times a month. Kellan was an Army Ranger before he became a firefighter,” she added. “He’s never mentioned Sawyer seeing anybody. Or a lot of anybodys.”

Frankie nodded. “He was definitely flirting with you.”

Here, Jo had to concede. Sawyer had even told her as much. Still… “I don’t know. I might not even go. Don’t you think it’s a little…”

“Exciting?” Frankie asked.

Jo let out a sigh, sliding onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “I was going to say crazy.”

“What’s so crazy about it?” Isabella asked.

“Well, for one, I’m pretty sure he’s a freaking demi-God.” Jo started ticking the reasons off on her fingers. “Two, I’ve got to have at least half a decade on him, probably more. Three, he lives here and I don’t. Nothing could ever come of it. And four, I don’t even think I remember how to date.”

Isabella raised her brows in question. Thankfully, Frankie took the reins and said, “Jo’s got a five-year-old and an ex who didn’t do her ego any favors.”

“Ah. Well, I get how your past can mess with you,” Isabella said, and something told Jo the woman was speaking from firsthand experience, “and as someone who hasn’t been single for a long time, I may not be the best authority here. But isn’t dating kind of like riding a bike?”

Jo laughed, because it was better than the alternative. “It would be my first date since like, the Jurassic period. Anyway, I don’t even live here. Maybe I should just cancel and forget it.”

She fully expected Frankie to pull out all that mettle that made her a great detective. So it was quite the gut-punch when her sister’s voice came softly.

“You could do that,” Frankie said. “But you could also look at it as one night to have fun with a good and good-looking guy. Nothing more, nothing less. If anyone deserves that, it’s you.”

Jo paused. When she put it that way, it seemed almost logical. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to go on one little date.” Sawyer knew she lived in Savannah, and anyway, it’s not as if he wanted to get serious. He’d asked her on exactly one flirty date. Impulsive? Maybe a little. But it was hardly reckless.

“Who knows?” Frankie waggled her brows, and there was the sister Jo knew all too well. “Maybe you’ll have a lot of fun.”

“Settle down, there, Cupid,” Jo warned. “We’re only going to spend a couple hours together.”

She’d had a lot of fun six years ago, and she’d ended up with a broken heart and her dreams in a dumpster. She wasn’t about to let history repeat itself by diving headfirst into anything crazy.

But as Frankie thankfully dropped the subject and the conversation turned to other things, Jo couldn’t help but wonder just how good a little crazy might feel.

* * *

Ten hours later,Jo got out of her Lyft and took in her surroundings. Because flying blind was so not on her agenda, especially where “getting adventurous” was concerned, she’d Googled the address Sawyer had given her not long after Frankie and Isabella had left for their respective precincts. Her search had yielded precious little by way of insight into Sawyer’s plans, as the Remington Sports Complex housed everything from indoor zip lining to batting cages. But no matter what he had planned, Jo had promised herself she’d go into things with an open mind. Tonight was about fun.

Unless he was crazy enough to want to take her zip lining. Oh, God, on second thought, maybe stepping outside of her comfort zone with a guy she barely knew was a bad idea after all—

“Hey! You made it.” Sawyer’s voice slid over her like warm honey, rooting her feet to the ground despite her hammering heart, and God, was there no end to her libido’s treachery?

“I did,” Jo said, unable to take the suspense any longer. “So, what’s our big adventure?”

Sawyer shifted, revealing a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. “Well, I had to do a little reconnaissance in order to make this happen, so I hope you don’t mind, but…” He rummaged through the bag for a minute before tugging something out and—

“Ice skates?” she asked with a laugh.

“Yeah. I texted Frankie to ask her what size you wear, and you just so happen to be the same size as one of our bartenders, January. She’s about eight months pregnant with twins, and definitely not skating this season, but she was more than happy to loan these out.”

“I haven’t skated in ages,” Jo admitted, her stomach dipping at how much potential this date had to end in tragedy. Or the emergency department.

Sawyer tilted his head at her, looking far too sexy in a black knit hat that was the perfect contrast to the blond hair peeking out from beneath the fabric. “We could go zip lining instead, if you want.”

Her eyes went wide—a normal girl’s reaction to mortal fear, thank you very much—and Sawyer laughed. “Relax, Jo. I’m only kidding about the zip lining. I skate here a lot, and I can help you if you need it. Okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed. Sawyer put her borrowed skates back into his bag, and they turned toward the entrance to the sports complex, falling into step side by side. They passed the batting cages and a huge indoor swimming pool, both with large observation windows for onlookers to check out the action within. Jo suppressed her shudder at the sign reading Zip Lining/Obstacle Course with a bold arrow marking the way, relief flickering through her as Sawyer led her in the other direction.

“In the winter, the rink is outdoors, under a covered pavilion,” he said, holding the door open so she could pass through. Sure enough, chilly air surrounded them as soon as they got to the benches lining the perimeter of the brightly lit ice, and Jo was glad she’d gone with her fleece-lined leggings and oversized sweater.

“Any pointers?” she asked, her heart skipping about six beats at how efficiently he’d slipped out of his boots and into a pair of well-worn hockey skates.

“Not really. If you’ve skated before, it’ll come back to you with some practice.” He gestured to the skates she’d been fumbling with in a non-verbal may I? and while Jo might have enough pride to fill a semi, she also wasn’t above trusting an expert.

Sawyer knelt down, his fingers firm on her calf as she guided her foot into the first skate, and God it had been too long since she’d had s*x if this was enough to make her panties damp. “We’re just here to have fun, right? There aren’t really any rules.”

Jo swallowed hard. “Oh. Uh. Well, I’d like to make it through the evening without breaking anything.”

“You won’t break anything. Just take it one step at a time and trust yourself a little. You’ll be fine.”

“Your faith in me may be misplaced,” she said, and why, why couldn’t her nervous default be to clam up?

“And you might just be stronger than you think.” Sawyer looked up at her, his dark-brown eyes framed by those gorgeous gold lashes, and suddenly, talking was the last thing on Jo’s mind. He shifted forward, so close that she could smell the woodsy scent of whatever soap he used, and her heart did a backflip as his strong, sexy mouth formed a smile.

“So, what do you say? You ready to take a little risk?”

Because trusting her voice not to betray her was a bad idea, she nodded. Standing was a bit tricky, but after a minute of gingerly testing her balance, Jo managed to tiptoe/shuffle her way to the edge of the ice. Sawyer stepped out first, gliding in an effortless half-circle to face her, and ugh, nothing about this could end well.

“Would this help?” he asked, holding both of his now-gloved hands out to her, and Jo bit the bullet, placing both of her hands in his, squeezing through mittened fingers. Taking a f**k it breath, she stepped out onto the ice. Her equilibrium squawked, making her knees wobble and her heart brew up a fresh batch of adrenaline, but she death-gripped Sawyer’s hands to steady herself.

Holy shit, it worked.

“There you go.” Sawyer moved backward slowly, pulling her along with him. It wasn’t the most graceful thing Jo had ever done—she wasn’t even sure she was doing the hard part with the way Sawyer was guiding her movements—but she wasn’t sprawled face-first on the ice, either. They made it a quarter of the way around the rink before Jo began to push off to create her own momentum. By the time they finished one full lap around the outskirts, Sawyer was able to drop her hands and skate beside her, albeit a lot more slowly than the other people gliding past them.

“I’ve got to hand it to you,” he said with a grin she felt in a whole lot of places. “You’re doing far better than I did when I first gave this a shot last year.”

Surprise sparked, lifting her chin. “You’ve only been skating for a year?” He looked so confident, gliding in sure movements over the ice.

“Yep. I started to clear my mind, if you can believe that.”

“It is kind of relaxing,” Jo admitted. “Once you get past the fear of face-planting on a very hard, very cold surface.”

Sawyer laughed softly. “I spent my first few months in a helmet, so, yeah. I’m in touch with that fear.”

“Really?” Her balance wavered a bit—the turns weren’t easy—and he cupped one hand beneath her elbow to steady her.

“Yeah. As it turns out, one TBI is all it takes to earn you all sorts of cranial precautions.”

Jo spun through her mental database and came up empty. “TBI?”

“Traumatic Brain Injury,” Sawyer said. “Sorry, between the medical terms and the military, there are a lot of acronyms and abbreviations.”

Wow. He’d said he’d been injured, and that it had been enough to cut his active duty short, but… “That sounds really serious.”

He paused for a second before admitting, “It is. I did a lot of rehab. Physical therapy. Occupational therapy. Social support. You name it, and chances are, I did it.”

“Oh, my God. That must have taken forever.” The worst injury Jo had ever had to contend with was a broken finger, which had been splinted for a handful of weeks, then healed. She couldn’t even imagine having to tackle something as serious as a brain injury.

Sawyer gave up a small nod. “It took the better part of a year, and I still have to contend with symptoms like nasty headaches and fatigue from time to time. I won’t lie. The whole thing pretty much sucks. But it’s also how I started skating, so there’s a little bit of a silver lining.”

Jo took a second to concentrate on making it around another curve on the ice before saying, “This isn’t very traditional PT, is it?”

“Nope. Like I said, we had to take a lot of precautions, and I didn’t start until I’d had a ton of other rehab first to be sure I was good to go.”

“So, why skating?” she asked, unable to curb her curiosity.

Sawyer’s smile sent a shot of warmth deep through Jo’s belly. “Because it scared the crap out of me.”

“No offense, but that sounds like shitty therapy.”

She jammed her teeth over her bottom l*p—why, why couldn’t she do that before her thoughts tripped directly out of her mouth?

But Sawyer surprised her by laughing. “I thought the same thing, at first. But it turns out, taking me out of my comfort zone was just what I needed to clear my head. My support team helped me choose something that was safe enough for me to try, but that would also challenge me. My dizzy spells were nearly all behind me at that point. Being on skates gave my brain and my body a good workout—it’s great for balance. Plus, skating let me face doing something that scared me.”

“Okay, but if skating scared you, why choose it instead of something safer?” Jo asked. “I mean, I’m terrified of heights. I know better than to go to the top of a skyscraper—or try zip lining—to face that fear. It’s only going to make me more scared.”

“There are some things I knew better than to try,” Sawyer said, gliding along for another beat before continuing. “Like you said, some fears are always going to run too deep. But I wasn’t scared of skating like that.”

Jo’s brows lifted toward the brim of her red knit hat. “Then why were you scared of it?”

“Because it was something I wasn’t sure I could do. Something I was pretty sure I might really f**k up, actually. And it was the first big risk I took after coming home.”

The words hit her right in the chest, making her pulse tap faster. “And that’s why you brought me here?”

Sawyer shrugged, but he didn’t drop his gaze from hers. “Skating taught me how to trust myself again. Kind of a risk worth taking.”

At any other moment, Jo probably would’ve felt too cautious, or at the very least, too chicken to act on the feeling pulsing through her. But Sawyer had faced a traumatic brain injury, for God’s sake, and he’d trusted her enough to tell her about it. The least she could do was get bold and give him a little trust in return.

So she reached out and grabbed his hand. The move slowed them both to a halt at the outermost edge of the ice, and before Jo could stop herself, she slid in front of him, leaving barely an inch between their bodies. His pupils flared enough to make her breath catch in her throat.

But still, she moved closer. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sawyer breathed. His fingers tightened around hers, his stare dropping to her mouth. He didn’t move, though, giving her the lead.

Jo took it. Pressing up, she touched her lips to his. She’d meant it as a quick gesture, little more than a brush of their mouths. But he exhaled at the contact, a soft sound coming out of him that turned her boldness into pure impulse. Jo threaded her arms around Sawyer’s shoulders, bringing their chests flush, and he responded by reaching up to cup her face with his gloved fingers as he deepened the k**s…

And then froze, as solid and still as the ice beneath their feet at the sound of a throat clearing.