“No idea,” he said truthfully, just as a brunette made her way toward him, stopping just a few feet away.
“I think I’ve got an idea why,” Greyson offered, his attention turning to the brunette.
“Nice club,” she told them, looking back and forth from one to the other.
“Thanks,” Sawyer stated unenthusiastically, his gaze darting past her. He wasn’t interested in the woman and he knew there was no reason to lead her on tonight.
Greyson, on the other hand . . .
“Thirsty?” Greyson asked, reaching out and snagging the woman around the waist, pulling her against him.
The woman giggled and Sawyer rolled his eyes. Yeah, he wasn’t sticking around for this bullshit.
“I gotta go,” he told Greyson, not bothering to look at the woman. “She can have my drink.”
With that, Sawyer pushed away from the bar and moved into the crowd once again, trying to avoid the sweaty, writhing bodies as he eased his way toward the entrance to the hotel.
“Hey, honey, where’re you headed?” a tall redhead asked when she stopped him in his tracks.
Sawyer had no choice but to come to a halt. It was that or run her clear over, because she inserted herself right in front of him. When her red nails scraped down his chest, he kindly removed her hand by wrapping his fingers around her wrist and pulling her back from him. “Sorry, darlin’, but I’m headin’ out.”
“I’d love to go with you,” the woman said as though he’d offered an invitation.
“Not tonight.”
He had another woman on his mind tonight. He wasn’t even worried that she’d run out on him. Or that his chances of changing the course of the night were nil. Kennedy was still the only woman on his mind.
As had several others, the woman slipped her number into his pocket, copping a feel as she did. Sawyer sucked in a breath and then eased around her, not making eye contact. Yeah, he was a dumbass for bringing Kennedy here. This was par for the course. He owned the club and he was constantly propositioned by women when he showed up, but the truth was, when he had been with Kennedy, he hadn’t thought anything of it. He didn’t want any other women.
He wanted her.
By the time he made it back to the entrance doors from the main part of the hotel, he was out of breath and slightly pissed.
“Where’d your lady go?” Davis asked when Sawyer nearly plowed him over in an attempt to avoid another woman who was standing near the exit.
“No idea. Did she say anything?”
“Nope. I tried to talk to her, but . . . well, I know when to leave well enough alone. She didn’t seem all that happy.”
No, he could imagine she didn’t. In fact, even though he didn’t like it one damn bit, he could understand how pissed off she was.
Pulling the phone numbers from his pockets, Sawyer handed them to Davis, as he usually did.
Davis chuckled, glancing down at the papers. “Well, that explains it, boss,” Davis told him.
“I didn’t ask for those numbers.”
“You never do.”
No, it was true. He never did and on any given night, he usually ended up with at least five. And every time, he handed them over to Davis to dispose of. Sawyer didn’t make calls to women who came on to him. If he wanted company for the night, he would either go home with one of them, or he had been known to take one or two up to the room he had in the hotel.
Fuck.
“I gotta find her,” Sawyer told Davis.
“Good luck, man. If I had to guess, either she started walkin’ or she found someone to take her home.”
“Well, let’s hope you’re wrong,” Sawyer said as he pushed open the door that led into the play area.
Unfortunately, Davis had been right about the latter. According to the front desk, Kennedy had been on the phone when she made a beeline for the front door. Sawyer knew as soon as he stepped outside that she was gone. While he waited for the valet to bring his car around, he tried calling Kennedy’s cell phone, but just as he expected, she didn’t answer. Before getting into his car, he asked the valet if he’d seen her leave. Sawyer was told that she had gotten into a sheriff’s car just a few minutes before.
Twenty minutes later, Sawyer was pulling up into Kennedy’s driveway for the second time that night. He parked his car behind hers and then got out, making his way to the porch. He had no idea what he was going to say if and when she opened the door, but he damn sure wasn’t going to leave without talking to her first.
He knocked on the door, then listened for the sound of her footsteps.
Nothing.
Waiting a full minute, he tried again, ringing the doorbell as well. This time he did hear noise coming from inside the house.