Hope everyone is having a wonderful start to their week! I'm very excited to share this chapter with y'all! Sansa and Sandor have their first public "outing" at The Rivershack! Let's get excited! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! Happy reading xoxo

P.S. ...please make sure you read my note at the end! :)

Usually, the old saying goes "money burns a hole in your pocket." After getting paid, most people just can't wait to spend their money. Well, that Friday afternoon, Sandor's phone had been burning a hole in his pocket. He was dying to text Sansa. All afternoon as he attempted to complete lesson plans for the first week of school, Sandor had been trying to come up with something to say to Sansa when he finally texted her, besides the obligatory "Hey, it's Sandor" text. Not having any luck with his concentration, Sandor abandoned his lesson planning and decided to sneak away from the school at 2:45, a whole forty five minutes before he was supposed to leave. Varys will get over it. The louder than average diesel engine in his truck was painfully conspicuous as he eased out of the parking lot, hoping to be unnoticed. Once home, Sandor knew he had work to do before meeting everyone at The Rivershack later. Since time was of the essence, Sandor chose not to take the time to catch and saddle his old black gelding, Stranger to check cows. Instead, he opted for his four wheeler. As he checked his cows, he saw that Ray had already filled the feeders that needed to be filled. That would cut back on his chore time for the evening. With Moses keeping good time next to the four wheeler, Sandor eased around the property, checking the welfare of his livestock, scrubbing the automatic water tanks, refilling the mineral tubs, and checking for loose strands of barbed wire. It was a little after 5:00 when he made it back to the barn. After feeding Ray's horse Seven, and Bronn's young horse, who he had affectionately named Asshat after the colt had thrown him repeatedly during the breaking process, Sandor fed Stranger. He stood next to the black horse as he nosed around in the grain bucket.

"Next time, bud." Sandor promised him as he scratched his forehead. "I'll take you out next time, I promise." Stranger seemed uninterested in his owner as he ground his feed between his teeth. He was a good, sturdy horse. Having been hauled to countless rodeos and ropings, Stranger had seen it all, and hardly anything phased him. Even though he was starting to get some age on him, he was still sound, and aggressive with cows, which made him an ideal mount for sorting and working cattle.

At 6:15, after feeding Moses and taking a lengthy shower, relieving himself from some pent up tension, Sandor absolutely could not wait any longer to text Sansa. He took a deep breath and opened his text messages. With nervous, shaky fingers, he typed out his initial greeting.

Sandor: Hey there, it's Sandor.

To Sandor's delight, her response was almost instant.

Sansa: Well hello. What are you up to?

Sandor: Just got done checkin the cows and gettin everyone fed.

Sansa: And how were the cows?

Sandor: They're good. A little hot, but they've got plenty of shade and water. What are you doin?

Sansa: I just got out of the shower.

A few years ago, Tormund had given Sandor some unsolicited advice on the art of talking to females. "Whenever a woman tells you that she just got out of the shower," he had told him, "it means that they want for you to think about them naked. If a woman wasn't into you, she wouldn't tell you that." At the time, Sandor had rolled his eyes at his friend, and had dismissed his asinine comment. Whether Tormund was correct or not, Sandor couldn't exactly say. But for time time being, Sandor allowed himself to think of Tormund's reasoning as legitimate, and that Sansa was in fact, into him. All Sandor could do was picture Sansa's glorious naked body, water dripping off of her smooth skin as she dabbed it with a soft towel. Well if she wanted me to picture her naked, it damn sure worked. Even though he had just rubbed one out in the shower not half an hour ago, Sandor felt his dick harden in his jeans. He had jerked off with the hope that be might be able to avoid an unwanted embarrassing erection in Sansa's presence that night. Apparently that wasn't going to work. There were dozens of raunchy things he could text back that came to his mind. God I really suck at this...

Sandor: Oh yeah? How'd that go?

As soon as he hit the send button, Sandor grimaced and closed his eyes. Nice one, Sandor. It took a while for Sansa to respond. Sandor only hoped it was because she was drying her hair or something and not contemplating deleting his number.

Sansa: Lol well I guess it was ok...

Sandor: How's that toe doin?

Sansa: It still hurts. I had to take the bandage off to shower. I guess I'll have to attempt to put a new one on by myself.

Sandor: Well wear some better shoes tonight instead of those damn flip flaps.

Sansa: Flip flaps?! Haha wtf?!

Sandor: Flaps, flops...whatever. They're ridiculous shoes that are only useful when you're at the beach or bathing in a questionable shower.

Sansa: Questionable shower...?

Sandor: When you're staying overnight at a rodeo and are forced to use whatever "shower" they have at the arena because the one in your horse trailer is broken...you're gonna want some flip flops. Other than that, they're only useful if you want to demolish your toe.

Sansa: Can't say that I have ever been in a "questionable shower" situation...

Sandor: How's it comin with the bandage?

Sansa: I'm managing ok I guess. I'm not as handy as you are with the tape. Too bad you're not here to help me with it again...

Panic mode set in when Sandor read her latest text. On his couch, he sat frozen, with his elbows propped on his thighs as he tried to decipher some sort of hidden meaning behind Sansa's message. His initial thought was to offer for him to come over and wrap her toes up for her. But he quickly dismissed the ridiculous thought that would make him reek of desperation. He must have waited to respond longer than he realized because as he sat there, another text from her came through.

Sansa: This toe bandage really doesn't go with my outfit...

Sandor: Well sorry I didn't have any hot pink tape to give you.

Sansa: Hot pink wouldn't go with my outfit tonight anyway.

Sandor: Well what are you wearing?

NOO! Fuck why the hell did I send her that?! It had been an automatic response, and Sandor could only desperately hope that Sansa didn't take it the wrong way. He saw the pulsing bubbles on the screen that meant Sansa was in the process of texting him back. The bubbles disappeared for a few seconds, only to start back again. Great...she's probably slamming out some slap in the face in the form of words.

Sansa: Well I'm still not wearing anything right now, I'm doing my makeup. Clothes will come next ;)

The breath Sandor had been holding shot out of his mouth. He couldn't help smile at the winky face Sansa had sent. Decoding women's text messages and their underlying meanings had never been a strength of Sandor's. For a minute, he wished Tormund was there to help him figure out what she meant. Ok she basically just told me that she's still naked...and sent a smiling winky face. That has to mean something.

Sandor: My bad...I'll quit distracting you and let you go back to gettin ready :)

Sansa: You're not distracting me. I mean, you're not the reason I'm not wearing clothes right now.

Sansa: Shit, that came out wrong!

Sansa: I mean, the reason I'm not wearing clothes is because I just took a shower.

Sansa: I'm going to go put some clothes on right now.

After reading her texts, Sandor laughed in spite of himself. Maybe she was as nervous as he was. That comforted him slightly. He suddenly felt emboldened and dared himself to act on his thoughts.

Sandor: Well that's a shame...

Sansa: I might attract some unwanted attention if I were to show up at The Rivershack in the nude...

Sandor: Even fully clothed, I'm sure you will still attract plenty of attention.

Sansa: It still might be unwanted, though.

Definitely still feeling bolder than normal, Sandor decided to throw all caution to the wind.

Sandor: Would the attention be unwanted if it was from me?

Once the text was sent, Sandor furrowed his brow and sucked in a breath of air through clenched teeth. He waited anxiously for her response. It came sooner than he expected.

Sansa: No. Definitely not.

Sandor let his body fall back onto the cushions of the couch, his phone still limply clutched in his hand. Mildly proud of himself, he had just successfully, and hopefully communicated his desire for her. He only hoped that she hadn't taken his comments the wrong way. Either way...Sandor knew one thing. He was done for.

Worlds different from the hip, chic clubs of downtown Atlanta that Sansa was used to, The Rivershack was just a large, wooden building that sat on the edge of an inlet of the Mississippi River. From the outside, it looked slightly dilapidated. Inside there was a long, rustic bar along one side, about half a dozen pool tables, some tables for sitting, and a small stage behind a wooden dance floor. The walls were covered with antique metal signs, some with liquor or beer logos. Lighting inside was dim and consisted mostly of dozens of strings of lights that hung from the ceiling. A few neon signs behind the bar area added to the light in the room.

Margaery had been able to get her car back that afternoon, and had picked Sansa up around 7:30. Sansa was feeling over excited, and a bit nervous to see Sandor after exchanging all those flirty texts with him. She had finally put some clothes on and had dressed herself in a simple navy blue t-shirt dress that hung loosely around her thighs.

The girls made their way to the bar, turning heads as they went. Margaery had opted for a white tube top and blue jean shorts that left little to the imagination and her wavy brown hair hung around her shoulders. A band was set up on the stage and was playing cover songs of George Strait, Waylon Jennings and other old country singers of that variety. Sansa ordered a Blue Moon beer and turned to survey the people around the bar. She also told Margaery about her text conversation with Sandor.

"So you think you like him?"

Sansa bit her lip and peeled a loose corner of the label on her beer bottle. "Yeah...I think I do."

With an appreciative smile, Margaery patted her arm. "Well, just be careful with his feelings. Sandor might put on a front like he's this carefree tough guy. But he's got a tender heart and guards it fiercely." Margaery sipped from her Miller Lite and studied Sansa's face. "The last woman he tried to date shit on his heart and he took it real hard."

"How long ago was that?"

Pausing to consider Sansa's question, Margaery pursed her lips together and looked away. "Hmm...I think about three years ago or so."

It had only been six months since Sansa had left Joffrey back in February. Before coming to Mississippi, Sansa had lived with her brother Robb and his wife in their loft in Atlanta until she finished the school year. At her brother's urging, she had been out on a date or two, but the men didn't seem to fit. Nothing of her life in Atlanta had fit her anymore.

"Just be honest and open with him. Don't lead him on or anything."

Sansa shook her head. "No, that's the last thing I want to do," she insisted.

With a grin on her face, Margaery gestured with her head over Sansa's shoulder. Sansa turned on her barstool just in time to see Sandor enter the establishment. He had on nice starched jeans and boots, and a red, long sleeve button up shirt. He had traded his baseball cap for a well shaped straw cowboy hat. It wasn't one of those tacky, floppy ones that you could find at a novelty store. This was the real deal, it was the kind that authentic cowboys wore with a straight brim in the front and sides that creased sharply to frame his eyes. She willed her breath to steady and her heart rate to decline as he smiled and began walking towards her. As he closed the space between them, Sansa felt her face grow warm.

"Hello ladies." Sandor drawled in his deep, raspy voice.

Sansa smiled and managed a flustered hello as he slid onto the barstool next to her.

"Well..." Margaery began as she pushed herself away from the bar, "I'm going to go see if Pod wants to lose at pool." She flashed a sideways smile at Sansa. "Have fun, you two."

"Whiskey on the rocks, please." Sandor addressed the bartender who had finally looked his way. With his drink in hand, he turned to Sansa. "Glad to see you finally found something to wear." He sipped from his glass and looked down to her feet and raised an eyebrow. "Nice boots."

With a quizzical smile, Sansa glanced down at her boots. They were the only western boots she owned. She had bought the Corral fashion boots a few years earlier when the theme for her old school's annual "Spring Sing" concert was "down on the farm." They came up just below her knees and were embellished with elegant stitched designs and a few rhinestones. "What's wrong with my boots?"

Her comment drew a chuckle from Sandor. "Nothin! They're just not what I would consider real cowboy boots. Guess they're more of the fashion variety."

He's teasing me, Sansa thought with a smirk. "Well I haven't really had any need for real cowboy boots being from Atlanta, now have I?"

"No, I guess you're right. They're cute. And they look good on you."

"Well thank you. And you look very nice as well." Sansa eyed the wide brim of Sandor's hat. "No baseball cap tonight?" His hair was pulled back into a neat, low bun and was barely visible under the brim. Damn he is so handsome...

"Nah, I usually wear a cowboy hat out for special occasions."

"And what sort of special occasion are we celebrating tonight?"

"Well I don't know about the other folks here, but I am celebrating your arrival in Paradise Holler." With a small smile, Sandor shyly looked away and took another sip of his drink.

Sansa raised her beer bottle to him. "Well...cheers to that, then."

In response to her toast, Sandor raised his glass and lightly tapped the rim to her bottle. "Cheers."

As the bar became more crowded, Sansa and Sandor moved to the corner where the pool tables were. Pod had lost miserably to Margaery and was re-racking the balls for a second game. Sansa met another young man who everyone knew with handsome features whose name was Gendry. She blushed furiously when she realized he was another one of the men from the group who had seen her stellar entrance the other day at The Market. She also met Ros, the object of Pod's affection, and a devastatingly attractive dark haired man who had introduced himself as Troy.

Sandor had called to play the winner of Margaery and Pod's game and was now racking the balls to play Pod. As he leaned over the table to strike the cue ball, he couldn't help but notice how Troy seemed to have taken an immediate liking to Sansa. What disturbed him even more was the fact that Sansa seemed to reciprocate his feelings, laughing and smiling prettily at whatever bullshit he was spouting off to her. He knew Troy from seeing him around town. Even though Sandor wouldn't consider him a close friend like Bronn, Tormund or Beric, he was a decent guy to hang around. Even if he was a bit of a braggart. They had even crossed paths and had some drinks with the other guys they both knew from time to time. He was an insurance agent at the local Farm Bureau. Troy was suave, cocky, and at times, arrogant. He also had a whole face, which seemed to be working in his favor at that point in time. Troy disappeared for a few minutes, only to return from the bar with a full beer for Sansa. Sandor ground his teeth together at the sight and wanted to kick himself for not taking the initiative to buy her another drink. Dumb pretty boy cunt. Sandor struck the white ball forcefully towards the triangle of billiard balls and sent them scattering across the green felt, pocketing two striped ones. He eased around the table and attempted to hone in on Troy's conversation with Sansa.

"So you've never seen the Mississippi River?!" Troy exclaimed with one hand on his hip.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sandor saw Sansa shake her head. "Not really. Not up close anyway."

"Well come with me!" Sandor snapped his head towards them only to see Troy guiding Sansa to the back door that led to the deck with his hand on the small of her back. That son of a bitch... Pod's voice barely registered in his brain as he watched them walk away.

"Sandor, your go."

Before Sansa and Troy disappeared through the door that led outside, Sansa turned her head and locked eyes with Sandor. He couldn't decipher the expression on her face and watched sadly as she turned the corner onto the deck. Pod called to him again.

"Sandor..."

With a grunt, Sandor turned his attention back to the game.

"Wow, the view is gorgeous!" Sansa breathed as she took in the view of the river. The full moon shone beautifully on the rippling water below. A warm breeze rustled the leaves on the tall trees around the deck of the bar and fireflies were blinking amongst the limbs. It was a very romantic atmosphere. Too bad Sandor wasn't the one to bring me out here.

Troy leaned an elbow on the railing, but angled his body towards her. "Yeah, it's pretty great. Not as gorgeous as you are, though." He paused as if to let Sansa swoon from his comment. "There's lots of great spots around here on the river to fish. Have you ever been fishing before?"

"No, never."

Troy beamed like she had just agreed to go home with him, and his warm voice was enthusiastic. "Well I'll teach you!"

Reminding herself to be polite, Sansa flashed a bland smile at Troy as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. There was something about him...though she couldn't quite put her finger on it...that reminded her of Joffrey. Troy wasn't mean, or vulgar like Joffrey had been. Maybe it was just his overconfident, presumptuous attitude.

Apparently wanting to keep the conversation going, Troy peppered Sansa with questions. He wanted to know about her new job, her life back in Georgia, her favorite food, whether she was a dog lover or a cat lover, her favorite movie. After hearing and responding to her answers, Troy would offer Sansa his own answer to the same question he had just asked, even though Sansa hadn't inquired. It seemed to Sansa that Troy was trying to get her on the fast track to a relationship.

"You're going to love living this close to the river." Troy insisted.

"I'm sure I will."

"You'll have to come over one night for dinner. I can make my famous oven roasted rack of lamb. From my rooftop terrace, you can see the barges comin' by on the river. It's a really neat sight to see."

This guy just doesn't stop. If she hadn't known any better, Sansa would have thought Troy was one of the rich big-shots she usually encountered back home. Always bragging about the things they had, and what they could provide for a woman.

"We can go out on my pontoon boat sometime." He extended one hand out to Sansa and lightly cupped her elbow.

"Oh, yeah. Maybe." Sansa commented. She hadn't meant for her voice to sound so lackluster, or for her smile to be so dull, but she just couldn't help it.

Though Troy was extremely good looking and seemed nice enough, Sansa couldn't ignore the fact that she felt absolutely no spark when they interacted. The very first time she had ever met Sandor, she felt an immediate attraction to him and her body had reacted deliciously in response. When Troy had put his hand on her back to take her outside, and when he had touched her elbow, she had felt nothing. No butterflies or searing heat from where his hand met her body.

Dang I have got to think of something. Some excuse to get away from him. "I need to visit the ladies room." Sansa said abruptly. She didn't want to be rude, so she added, "I'll see you back inside." Hopefully the vagueness of her declaration would give her an excuse to go back to Sandor.

Quickly, she located the ladies restroom and relieved herself. After she washed and dried her hands, she ran them through her long, loose curls a few times. The sad look she had seen on Sandor's face when she had gone outside with Troy gave her a twinge of guilt. Sandor seemed relatively shy, and she reminded herself that Margaery had told her that he was a bit awkward when it came to women. He's probably not going to be very forward with you, Sansa. You've got to make him feel wanted. Deciding she would rather take awkward over cocky any day, Sansa fluffed her hair once more and left the restroom in a strut. Her twinge of guilt turned into uneasiness when she rounded the corner and glanced at where the pool tables were and didn't see Sandor. Troy was there, and he smiled and gave her a small wave. But she didn't want him, she wanted Sandor. But he was nowhere to be found. Oh no, surely he didn't leave... With growing apprehension, Sansa's head whipped around, looking for the tall man in the cowboy hat. Finally, she spotted him at the end of the bar, sitting by himself.

When she was close enough, Sansa laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Hey Sandor," she said softly as she pulled herself onto the stool next to him. As she sat, she let her hand glide along the hard packed muscle of his shoulder and down his equally well muscled arm.

Sandor jumped a bit when he felt her small hand touch his shoulder. Having grown tired of playing pool and not wanting to see the smug look on Troy's face when he and Sansa came back inside, Sandor had made his way to the bar to sit alone and admit defeat. It was something was used to, being pushed aside by a woman for a man who was charming and nice to look at. Not awkward and scarred like he was. Sandor definitely hadn't expected Sansa to return to him once she had gotten a good look at Troy. He had ordered a beer this time around, and had been nursing it idly. "Hey there."

An awkward minute passed between them before Sandor cleared his throat and turned his head towards her to speak again. "Where's Troy?" There was no animosity or sarcasm in his voice that Sansa could sense. Just a hint of discouragement.

She looked him in the eye and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know." She tore her eyes away from him as her fingers nervously fidgeted with a coaster that was laid out on the bar. "Don't care." She added, letting her eyes find Sandor's again. The gaze he returned was so intense it set a flame ablaze inside Sansa's stomach that was quickly spreading to her limbs. "Why are you asking?"

With a small smirk, Sandor tipped his beer towards his lips for a gulp. "Just wondering. I bet he's quite taken with you."

Sansa pulled back slightly with a scoff and rolled her eyes. The corners of her open mouth were curved up into a smile though. "Oh c'mon Sandor. Don't be like that!"

Sandor laughed a little and let his head hang for a second before raising it back up to respond. "I'm sorry. I...I guess I...just got...fuck it, I got a little jealous is all." He finished his confession with a huff and downed some more of his beer. He could feel his cheeks blooming red from embarrassment.

"Well I can assure you...there's nothing to be jealous of. Troy seems nice enough, but there's one big problem with him."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"He's not you..."

Holy. Shit. There it was. There was the only thing Sandor needed to hear from her. It's now or never...

Feeling what little confidence he had left return, Sandor slowly turned his body towards Sansa on the barstool. His knee brushed against hers and he was just about to apologize when he felt her hand come down to rest gently on it. The breath caught in his throat for a beat when he felt her sharp little fingernails curl lightly into the fabric of his jeans. Hesitantly, he reached a hand to her face and let it rest along the curve of her jaw. He let his thumb pass over her cheek once before closing the distance between them slightly. As Sansa closed her eyes and leaned her face into his touch, Sandor's heart thundered loudly in his chest. "Sansa, I..."

Before Sandor could say or do anything else, a loud, male voice filled the air. "Clegane! You old dog, there you are!" Of all the damn times...

Bronn had approached them from the side, and slapped his hands on Sandor's shoulders, apparently oblivious to the magic moment he had just ruined.

"Shit, Bronn..." Sandor hissed at his friend. If looks could kill, Bronn would have been dead on the floor. Bronn glanced between Sandor and Sansa and raised his eyebrows at the pair. "Bronn, this is Sansa. Sansa, this is my friend and business partner, Bronn."

Bronn took Sansa's outstretched hand and kissed it lightly on the knuckles. "So happy to meet you, darlin." Sandor groaned inwardly at his charming friend. I'll have to remember that move next time. Bronn had never had a problem with confidence, especially when it came to women.

"Likewise! So you're Margaery's boyfriend?"

Grinning ear to ear, Bronn nodded his head and puffed his chest slightly. "That's me! Margie has had nothin but good things to say about you, Sansa." Bronn raised his eyebrows enthusiastically at Sansa and quickly added, "and so has Sandor!" The addition of his last comment earned him a swift kick to the shin that Sansa couldn't help but giggle at. "AH! Yeah, uh...good things from all."

Still laughing from Sandor's less than subtle method of shutting Bronn up, Sansa tried to quickly remedy the situation. "Well I love Margaery! I hope we become very good friends."

Bronn grinned appreciatively at Sansa and nodded. "Me too. Speakin' of which...I better go find my Margaery. I'll see y'all later." Bronn left Sandor with a wink.

"So that's Bronn, huh?" Sansa asked, also slightly irritated that their almost kiss had been ruined.

"That's Bronn." Sandor replied dryly. Intrigued by Sansa's previous statement, he decided to probe a little further. "So um...back to what you said a minute ago. You said Troy wasn't me. What did you mean by that?"

With a shy smile, Sansa finished the rest of her beer. This time, Sandor wasted no time ordering her another. "Well...I don't want to get to know Troy better. I want to get to know you better."

"Well then, by all means...ask me anything."

They spent the next two and a half hours doing nothing but talking and laughing as they asked each other question after question. Wanting to keep the atmosphere between them light and comfortable, Sansa purposely avoided questions about family and past relationships. She wasn't sure she was ready to reveal hers to Sandor yet. But Sansa learned that Sandor graduated magna cum laude from Ole Miss, a feat which he was humbly proud of, especially since he had been a student athlete. Sansa told him about getting her master's degree and hinted that she was considering continuing and getting a specialist degree. They both preferred Netflix to live television, but would rather relax with a good book from time to time. Sansa didn't peg Sandor for much of a reader, remembering his reason for liking math so much. She couldn't help but raise an impressed eyebrow when Sandor revealed that his favorite books were Hamlet and Frankenstein. Sansa sheepishly admitted that she loved nothing more than reading trashy harlequin romance novels. Especially the ones with women in flowing dresses who are clutching onto bare chested men with wild hair on the covers. She hid her pink face behind her hand when Sandor laughed out loud at her description of the latest book she was reading.

They even talked about food preferences. Sansa preferred smooth peanut butter while Sandor liked crunchy. Sansa cut her spaghetti while Sandor was a twirler. She learned that his favorite food was steak, no surprise there, being a beef farmer, and Sandor learned that hers was lemon chicken. Anything with lemon, really, as she had said thoughtfully. Sandor made a mental note to remember that for the future.

"Just as long as I don't ever catch you putting ketchup on a steak...we'll get along just fine." Sandor had teased. "Hey I've got a really good question for you."

Sansa took a swig of her beer. "Ok, let's hear this really good question."

"True or false..." Sandor began. Sansa raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him. "If men have to put the toilet seat up to pee, then women should be ok with putting it back down to pee."

"That's your really good question?!" Sansa threw her head back for a hearty laugh. "What the hell?! That has got to be the most random question anyone has ever asked me."

Sandor joined her laughter, but urged her to answer. "Come on, just answer me!"

With an adorable huff, Sansa rolled her eyes. "Fine. True."

Amused at her answer, Sandor nodded his head in approval. "I think that answer deserves another beer." He froze when he felt Sansa's hand on his arm.

"Wait, before we get another drink, I have a question for you."

"Alright."

"Will you dance with me?"

And just like that, Sandor's mind and body went completely numb. The budding confidence he was slowly getting from feeling more comfortable around Sansa vanished as he pictured himself stepping all over her feet. He couldn't even remember the last time he danced with a woman. Or by himself, for that matter. Maybe once or twice at a high school party where there was beer involved. But never in his grown-up life and especially never with a woman as beautiful as Sansa. "I don't dance." Of course she would poke her damn bottom lip out and pout. If she's not careful, she's going to wind up with that lip in my mouth...

"Oh please, Sandor? Please, please, pleeaassee?!" Sansa was already up from her barstool, tugging at his hand. "Come on. It's a slow song."

Sandor looked down to see her delicate, smooth fingers hand around three of his thick, rough fingers. He knew he was definitely done for. Sansa could have just asked him to go climb the county water tower and he would have done it. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, he quickly realized. "Oh all right." He conceded and rose from his stool to lead her to the dance floor. The band was playing their rendition of Lonestar's "Amazed." A song that seemed to perfectly fit how Sandor felt about Sansa. With his arm on her back and hers resting on his shoulder, he held her other hand out to the side and they slowly turned around the dance floor. As he looked down into her big, blue eyes, Sandor wanted desperately to kiss her. But he was so nervous, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to make his legs and lips work simultaneously, so instead he raised his hand that held Sansa's and kissed it once he draped it around his neck. He brought his other hand down to encircle her waist and pulled her closer. Sansa melted into his body and pressed her cheek to his chest. He could feel his heart skip a beat when her face made contact. Even though kissing her had been on his mind all night, Sandor decided that he didn't want for their first kiss to be in the middle of some podunk bar, with everyone watching. He wanted their first kiss to be something special. Something that Sansa would look back on and think fondly of, should they ever get to that point. As he nervously glanced around, he realized that many people were watching them. Sandor had frequented The Rivershack with his friends and the regular crowd was no doubt shocked to see him on the dance floor, let alone with a gorgeous woman in his arms. Troy was still in the corner playing pool with Pod and Gendry. The smug look on his face had been replaced with one of pure annoyance. Sandor had never been one to gloat, or to rub anything in someone's face. He usually was not the envy of anyone. But if he had been a gloater, then would have been the time for him to raise his middle finger up at Troy. Instead, Sandor slid one hand up Sansa's back and threaded his fingers through her silky hair as he laid a kiss on the top of her head.

Margaery had drug Bronn out onto the dance floor as well. He caught Sandor's eye and circled his index finger around to his thumb and held the other three fingers out straight and shot Sandor a 'well done' smile.

The song was over far too quickly for Sansa. The affection she felt for Sandor grew with every turn they made, every gentle caress of his hand on her body, and with the kisses he placed on her hand and the top of her head. She allowed herself to wonder what would have happened at the bar if they hadn't been interrupted by Bronn. The growing anticipation of their first kiss was overwhelming and Sansa was just about ready to take things into her own hands. But her mind screamed at her, once again, to not let things get too far. Sansa truly didn't feel like she was ready for another relationship. So what am I doing out here, wrapped in his arms? She only hoped that Sandor might want to take things slow, and keep it casual without putting a label on anything just yet. When the song ended, Sandor looked down at her the same second she tore her cheek away from his chest to gaze up at him.

"No more dancing for me, I hope."

Sansa giggled and looked away. "You're in luck. These boots are starting to hurt my toe a bit." They returned to their seats at the bar. Sansa sat facing the dance floor with her elbows propped on the edge of the bar behind her. Margaery and Bronn were two-stepping around the dance floor to a lively song. Bronn was quite an accomplished dancer. She watched them step and stroll around the floor, arms around each other's waists, only to engage in elaborate twists and turns. "I'd like to learn to dance like that." Sansa commented to Sandor as she gestured to the couple on the floor.

"Is that so?"

Insistently, Sansa nodded her head and beamed at Sandor. There was something about Sansa that he couldn't say no to. He felt a sneaky suspicion growing in his mind that he would soon be reluctantly asking Bronn to teach him how to dance. Oh the torment and teasing he would surely endure if it came to that. Anything for her...

After a length of time, an exhausted Margaery and Bronn came to say goodnight to Sansa and Sandor.

"Well, we're going to take off." Margaery said. "Sansa, do you need for us to give you a ride home?"

Sansa glanced at Sandor and mentally begged him to take her home. The way she looked up at him through her thick lashes made Sandor's breath hitch in his throat.

"I could drive you home, Sansa. If you want me to." Sandor added bashfully.

"That would be great, Sandor." Sansa replied with a sweet smile.

An effective goodnight kiss was still all Sandor could think about on the short drive back to Sansa's apartment. He was also dying to ask her on a date. Figuring he would tackle that obstacle first, maybe the other would follow naturally. "Hey what are you doing tomorrow evening?"

"No plans. Yet."

In front of the coffee shop, Sandor turned the ignition off. He didn't want to leave his truck running and have Sansa think he was trying to hurry her out. The engine shook as it died down. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. "Well would you...I mean, do you want to...maybe...go out on a date with me?"

Hearing Sandor ask her out brought the biggest, most genuine smile to her face. "Yes! I would love to."

After almost fainting with relief, realization hit Sandor like a ton of bricks. "Oh shit! Fuck, I forgot...tomorrow night is the auction at the stockyards. We've got about ten heifers I'm supposed to take up there. Damn I forgot all about it."

"That's fine, Sandor-"

"No, no I'll see if Ray can handle it by himself. It's not a big deal, I'm sure Bronn will be able to go with-"

Sansa's hand on his arm swiftly cut him off. "No Sandor, what I meant was...I'll go with you to the auction. If that's ok, I mean. I've never been to an auction, it seems like it would be interesting."

A dirty, loud, livestock auction was not what Sandor had planned for a first date. He would have to make it up to her later for sure. But the few women in the area he had been on dates with hadn't shown any real interest in his business, and it floored him to think Sansa actually wanted to go. "Are you sure?"

"Well yeah, why not?! What time should I be ready?"

Hearing Sansa's insistence made him laugh. "Ok then. Well that depends on whether or not you want to watch us sort and load the cows up. The auction doesn't start until about seven, but we need to start loading them up a round five or so."

"I can be at your house by five..."

Sandor shook his head. "Nah, I'll come and get you."

As Sansa worried her bottom lip with her top teeth, she fidgeted with a lock of her hair. "Well, I guess I will see you tomorrow. Thank you so much for the ride." She smiled sweetly before reaching for the door handle.

Watching his opportunity to kiss Sansa goodnight slip away, Sandor practically lunged across the center console to stop Sansa from opening the door. "Wait..." He caught her hand and pulled her gently back to him. Silently cursing the console between them, he leaned into her and took her face in his hand. A small gasp escaped Sansa's lips as Sandor closed the proximity between them. His eyes darted back and forth between her eyes and her lips. As if he were moving in slow motion, Sandor slowly pulled himself closer to Sansa. He paused to push his hat up slightly on his forehead so it wouldn't poke Sansa. It was his first kiss in three years, and kissing Sansa was everything he had hoped it would be. No, it was more. So much more. The second he pressed his lips to Sansa's, a floodgate of emotion surged through his body. He was so far gone with this woman, he had no idea how he would ever be able to pull himself out, should things not go the way he wanted them to. The kiss started chaste. He kissed her once, then twice, and pulled back slightly to gauge the reaction on Sansa's face. After their eyes met briefly, an invisible force seemed to pull them towards each other again. This time, the kiss was a product of all the tension and urgency that had been building between them. Wanting to deepen the kiss, Sandor brushed his tongue hesitantly along Sansa's lower lip. Immediately, she opened her mouth and allowed Sandor's tongue access to explore and taste her. By then, her arms were locked around Sandor, groping anywhere her hands would land, struggling to gain purchase on his body as her mind whirled. Frustrated at the center console in his truck and how it was putting unwanted distance between them, Sandor clumsily lifted it up and pushed it back flush between the front seats with his elbows. Seeing that as her opportunity to get closer to the man she was so attracted to, Sansa edged her way closer and was soon straddling Sandor's lap. Their lips hadn't missed a beat during the change of position.

Oh God, this is really happening...

Sandor thought desperately as he slid his hands down her back. In response to Sansa's crotch being so dangerously close to his own, Sandor's dick was now straining against the fabric just below her panties. The thought made him groan into Sansa's mouth. Lower and lower his hands slid until he was touching and stroking the soft skin of her thighs that were on either side of his.

With his bottom lip in her mouth, Sansa slowly sank down lower onto Sandor's lap to feel the bulge that had been created in response to their steamy kissing. His breath seemed to falter as she rocked herself slowly across the hardness that was hidden inside his jeans. She could feel the wetness starting to seep through her panties that was surely beginning to saturate his jeans as well. Never in her life had she been so turned on. She wanted more.

A tightness appeared in Sandor's chest as he felt the urgency of Sansa's movements. Oh no, please not here...not now! It had been months since Sandor had had an asthma attack. With proper medication and keeping himself in shape, he had been able to keep his asthma in check in his adult years, not having to use his inhaler as often as he had when he was a young kid, even while he was playing football. Trying desperately to regain control of his breathing, Sandor drew in long, shaky breaths through his nose as he continued to kiss Sansa with all the confidence he could gather. The hem of Sansa's dress had been rucked up slightly, and Sandor couldn't help up glide his hands along the expanse of skin to where he felt the lace of her panties with his thumbs. Sandor knew one of a few things was about to happen. He could put a halt to their kiss that was threatening to melt the ceiling of his truck, promising to Sansa that they would act on their feelings again in a much more desirable location. Like his bed, once they had been on a few dates. Another more unlikely scenario was that Sansa would invite Sandor to come upstairs. If that happened, he knew he needed to say no, as much as he did not want to. As he desperately scrambled to make his brain work while keeping his tongue gently moving in her mouth, he could hear Sansa's soft whimpers escape her throat as she rolled her pelvis along his painfully hard shaft. The most probable and most embarrassing scenario that would happen should he not stop their ministrations was that he would cum right there inside his jeans and ruin everything, which he was dangerously close to doing. No doubt he present encounter would be wrecked, as well any future encounters, for Sansa would surely be reluctant to agree to see him again after that happened. A few more well placed rocks of her hips and moans from her mouth would send him unintentionally spiraling over the edge. Tiny nimble fingers had found their way to his belt buckle and were tugging at it insistently. Nearing the point of no return, Sandor's eyes flew open and he reluctantly stopped her hands with his.

"Sansa, wait." His strangled voice managed to say as she pulled away with a concerned look etched onto her face.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing is wrong, I can promise you that. I'm loving this, I love kissing you. But if we don't stop..." he almost choked on the last word. Stopping was definitely something he did not want to do. But Sandor wasn't the type of man anymore to just have sex with a woman on their first outing. Sansa deserved better than that. "If we don't slow down, I'm afraid something might happen that probably shouldn't happen until later. I don't want for you to think that this...the physical stuff... is all that I'm after."

As she leaned back onto the steering wheel, Sansa pressed her lips into a thin line. She removed her hands from his belt buckle and pressed them to his chest. Inside, his heart was beating so violently, he was sure Sansa would be able to hear and feel it. At that point in time, Sandor would have given anything to be able to read her thoughts.

With a heavy sigh, Sandor reached a hand up to run through her silky hair, savoring the way it slipped through his fingers. He brought it up again to cup her cheek. "I want to do this the right way. I want to take you out on dates, and...be with you in all the ways that I can. Hell you already know I want to sleep with you..." Sandor let a low chuckle escape his lips and was relieved when Sansa joined his laughter. "And I do, don't get me wrong. Just not here, tonight, in the front seat of my truck. You see, I already adore you. And I hope that one day I'll be able to call you my own, and show you just how much you mean to me." For a few seconds, Sandor closed his eyes and pulled in a steadying breath. "How much you already mean to me..." With slightly trembling hands, Sandor pulled her face to his so he could lay a sweet, gentle kiss on her lips. "If we don't stop, I'm going to want to do all sorts of things to you that I don't want for you to regret later. Seeing as how you haven't known me that long and all."

It had been a very long time since Sansa hadn't been the one to put a halt to heated situations that were soon to get out of hand. Usually, she had been the one to insist things should stop. But she couldn't help herself with Sandor, and was suddenly glad that he had the sense enough to stop before things escalated out of control. She couldn't believe how close she had let herself get to taking his dick out right there in the front seat of his truck to wantonly temper the sting of her sexual desire. Slowly, Sansa nodded her head. Sandor's right. He's right...shit how stupid of me! I don't even know if a relationship is what I want with him! Oh but I do...do I?! "You're right, Sandor. I'm sorry...I shouldn't..." Sansa banged her knee against the steering wheel as she moved off of him back to her own seat.

Sensing her discomfort, Sandor brought her back to his side with an arm around her waist. "Hey...no, don't be sorry. I wanted to kiss you. I want to be with you that way. You did nothing wrong." Shit will I ever get less awkward at this?! "Like I said a minute ago, I just don't want for you to regret any of what we do together."

Still battling her unsorted feelings, Sansa didn't want to give Sandor a false sense of hope. So she just sweetly smiled at him and nodded her head.

Never having been in love, Sandor didn't know exactly what it felt like. But the feelings he had once harbored for other women he had been with paled in comparison to the way he felt about Sansa. Every feeling he had for her was so intense and foreign to him. But in a different and exciting, albeit a little scary sort of way. As he watched the light in Sansa's apartment switch on, Sandor put his truck into gear and pulled away. The aching sensation he felt in his heart from missing her already told him everything he needed to know. He was falling in love with Sansa.

Ok so here's the deal...from here on out, updates might be a little less predictable. I know I know...I'm sorry :((( But school is getting ready to start back soon and my classroom is nowhere near ready (back to the real world). I am still going to try to update once a week or every other week. I know that sucks, BUT I would much rather spend longer working on a chapter and have it exactly the way I want it rather than speeding through the writing process to make sure I am getting two chapters ready for each week. I guess in this case I am embracing quality over frequency. Anyway, I hope y'all understand and if I don't update for a week or two, PLEASE be patient with me...I will NEVER abandon this story because I love it way too much! And love y'all! Have a fantastic week! :)))