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“I’m fine.” He embraced his dad. “Happy Thanksgiving, Dad.”
“Happy Thanksgiving. Come in.” They walked down the path that, in the warmer months, was lined with flowers. Twin pots of mums flanked the door of the colonial two-story house that sat right off the bay.
“How’s the Bugle?”
“Everything’s great.” It was a standard answer he gave his dad, but he felt guilty, nonetheless. At some point, he needed to tell his father the true picture of what was happening. But once he did that, everything would be more real.
Henry made to open the door, then suddenly covered the handle with his hand and gave his son a long once-over. “You know, you can always talk to me. About anything.”
Sawyer felt like he was back in high school being questioned about making out with his girlfriend or drinking after the big game. “I know.”
“Because I do have some experience in the newspaper biz.”
He certainly did. Sawyer had always looked up to his father. Idolized him, really. And not only because of his role at the Bugle. People in the community respected him, valued his opinion. He was a family man. Loyal to the very end.
Everything Sawyer wished he could be.
“I’ve heard that somewhere,” Sawyer said as they finally entered the house. Immediately, they were assaulted with the aromas of Thanksgiving. The smell of sage and roasting turkey wafted out to greet him, as did all of the spices of pumpkin pie, yams and his mother’s famous green bean casserole.
“But what I want to talk about is your retirement. Heard your golf game is actually regressing.”
Henry stopped walking and wagged a finger in his face. “You’ve been talking to your mother. Never listen to her.”
“I heard that,” Patty Wallace called from the kitchen.
Sawyer and his dad exchanged a look before entering the room. As soon as they did, a flurry of activity greeted them in the way of hugs, handshakes and holiday greetings. Someone thrust a mug of spiked cider into his hand and his mother was fussing over him and thanking him for the flowers.
But Sawyer was busy surveying the room. A lot of their guests had already arrived, but not everyone.
“Where’s Riley?” he asked his mom.
His mother patted his cheek. “She should be here soon. She was making that whipped Jell-O you like this morning.”
“But she’s coming, right?”
His mother cocked her head curiously. “Of course. Why would you ask that? She’s spent practically every Thanksgiving here since she was in diapers.”
“I know, it’s just...” He trailed off because he didn’t really want to get into her tweet with his mom.
“If I know Riley, she’ll be flouncing through the door at any minute in a fabulous outfit.”
“Did someone say my name?”
Sawyer twisted his head so fast he almost got whiplash. Just as his mother had suggested, there she stood in a forest-green sweater and polka-dot pants. She’d left her hair down in loose curls and it was bouncing around her as she entered the room carrying a covered dish and a bottle of wine.
Riley was greeted even more enthusiastically than he’d been. He moved to welcome her but was blocked by the entrance of Elle and Cam.
Elle, Carissa and Riley were in the midst of planning Elle’s bridal shower, so it didn’t surprise Sawyer to see the three of them joined at the hip all afternoon. They helped his mother in the kitchen, enjoyed wine in the family room while football blared from the television.
Every time Sawyer made a move to get closer to her, someone would intervene. Or a timer would go off in the kitchen and Riley would race away. Or one of her friends would want to show her something on their phone. Or she’d refill her drink.
The universe was clearly against him.
He thought dinner would help. He and Riley usually sat at the far end of the long dining room table. But this year, there had been a seating adjustment. Instead of sitting next to his oldest friend, he strained to hear her hearty laugh from way at the other end of the room. He couldn’t even enjoy his mother’s turkey, which was always amazing.
The real question was whether Riley was actually avoiding him or if all of the distractions were coincidental. He got that their dance the other night had been a little much. Hell, he was still thinking about it. All the time. But that was no reason to avoid someone you’ve known your whole life.
In any case, he resolved during dessert and more football that he would get to the bottom of her cold shoulder. Just then, opportunity presented itself when Riley went out on the deck. Alone. Sawyer jumped up, grabbed a fresh beer and joined her.
It was cold and the breeze coming off the bay didn’t help matters. His parents had started a fire in the family room and the smell of wood smoke was a comforting and autumnal aroma.
Riley had wrapped one of his mother’s throw blankets around herself. She was standing at the far end of the deck, away from the windows of the family room. Her glass of wine sat on the banister, untouched. She was lost in her thoughts, staring out at the water.
He quietly approached, suddenly unsure what to say. The moonlight played over her face and he longed to reach out and touch her.
“Hey, Ri,” he finally said.
Riley jumped a mile and then spun around. Her wine glass wobbled but luckily didn’t take the plunge over the railing.
She placed a hand over her chest. “Good grief, Sawyer. Where’d you come from?”
“That’s a very esoteric question. How deep do you want to get tonight?”
She smiled at him and he felt it all the way in his gut.
“I never get deep unless I’ve had at least three pieces of pumpkin pie. Right now, I’m only up to two.”
He joined her at the railing and put down his beer bottle. “Are you warm enough?”
She nodded. “I’m fine. I needed some air.”
The two of them had never had any problem keeping a conversation going, yet tonight it felt strained. Awkward.
“Listen, Ri,” he said.
“Hey, Sawyer,” Riley said at the same time.
They laughed. “Go ahead,” she said.
He wanted to ask about their dance. Wanted to know if it had made her feel the same way he’d felt that night. Wanted to know if her feelings about him were starting to change too. Instead, he said, “I saw your column this morning. I didn’t realize you were upset about your parents’ cruise. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugged and continued to look out over the water. “You know how it is. Sometimes we don’t realize how we feel about something until we write it down.”
True. Which was exactly why he needed to stay clear of any kind of writing assignment at the moment. His emotions and feelings were too jumbled. Making sense of them might just scare him.
Riley took a sip of her wine. “I don’t know why I’m even bothered about my parents. They deserve this vacation and they’ll be back next week. I guess... I mean...it’s only that I miss them and...”
He reached for her arm and turned her to face him. “What, Riley?”
“I’m lonely.”
It was such an un-Riley-like statement and the combination of her words and the frightened expression on her face was like a punch to his gut.
“Oh, hon, why? They’re only on vacation for ten days. You just said so yourself.”
Her eyes were looking everywhere but at his. “It’s not just that. It’s stupid, really.”
“We’ve been friends for a million years. You can tell me anything.”
She finally met his gaze. “Friends. Right.” She tightened the blanket around her. “Elle is engaged and Carissa is going to be moving in with Jasper. Plus, she’s also...”
He cocked his head. “She’s what?”
Riley shook her head. “Never mind. It’s nothing. The point is that Elle and Carissa are both making huge changes.”
So that’s what this mood was about. Her two closest friends were taking big steps in their lives and relationships.
“And you wish you were in a relationship, too?” he asked. He held his breath, uncertain of what he wanted to hear her say.
“Yes. No.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s not that.”
He leaned toward her. “What is it?”
“It’s confusing and...and...”
“Ri,” he said, his voice sounding husky even to his ears.
“Sawyer, I don’t know...” She gestured helplessly between them.
He reached for her hand. It was so small wrapped up in his. When he met her gaze again, he saw something he’d never seen there before. At least, not whenever she’d looked at him. But there it was, pure lust. And he knew exactly how she felt.
Without analyzing it, he did what felt natural to him. He pulled her to him and covered her lips with his.
* * *
For the second time that night, Sawyer shocked her. But this time, he wasn’t sneaking up on her. He was kissing her.
And quite well.
His lips moved over hers, softly at first. Her surprise lasted for only a second and, before she knew it, her hands were winding up around his neck, the blanket she’d wrapped herself in falling to the floor of the deck.
He pulled her even closer as his lips became more and more greedy. His hands were in her hair and then moved down her body until they reached her hips.
He smelled so good. His cologne was tickling her nose as she ripped her lips away to place a soft kiss against the column of his neck, apparently a sensitive spot. He made a sound, something like a growl, and feasted on her lips once more.
Riley felt like stars were exploding around her. She hadn’t experienced pure, unadulterated passion like this since...
Suddenly she pushed away from him. They were both struggling for breath, their chests mirroring each other in a rapid up-and-down rhythm.
“I can’t,” she said in a very unsteady voice.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes wide and dark with desire.
She wasn’t sorry. Not in the least. That was part of the problem. She couldn’t kiss Sawyer. He was her friend, not to mention that he currently handed out her paycheck.
But it had felt so good, so natural.
No. She shook her head, trying desperately to clear it. At the same time, she shivered.
“Ri,” Sawyer said, bending to retrieve the blanket. “You’re going to get sick. Here.” He placed the blanket around her shoulders, adjusting it so that it covered all of her. He lingered, and his fingers brushed over her collarbone, inciting another shiver that had nothing to do with the weather.
Sawyer must have noticed and his eyes focused on her lips. Before she could protest, he was tugging the blanket toward him, which had the added effect of bringing her right to him. She raised her head. Big mistake—it put his sumptuous mouth in front of her.
How could she resist?
They stood like that for a moment. A long, heated moment. She didn’t know who moved first. Maybe it was both of them. She let out a gasp, and then once again their lips met.
Who knew Sawyer Wallace could kiss like this? If he wasn’t holding her up by the blanket, her knees would give out.
After what felt like hours, they parted. Gently he kissed the tip of her nose and then her forehead before pulling her in for a long hug.
“Riley, that was—”
“Something that absolutely cannot happen again,” she finished sadly.
He released her and pinned her with questioning eyes. “Ri,” he began. Instead of finishing, he scratched his head. “Are you seeing someone?”
“No, of course not. You’d know if I were.”
“Then what?”
“It’s not you, Sawyer. It’s me. I can’t do that with you.”
After their dance at Elle and Cam’s engagement party last week, this kiss wasn’t really a surprise. When they’d danced, it had felt like they were the only two people in Bayside. And that had scared the crap out of her.
She’d spent the week avoiding him, which frankly hadn’t been that hard. He’d met with Dan Melwood. Riley wondered what that was about. Dan had been in Bayside last summer, but as far as she knew he didn’t have any reason to be back so soon.
“Talk to me,” he said firmly.
She put space between them. Bided her time by taking a sip of her wine. She owed him some kind of explanation.
“Okay.” She nodded. “When I lived in New York, there was a guy there. A guy that I dated.”
“I always wondered,” he said more to himself.
“We worked together.”
“Ah.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Let me guess. There was a policy against dating in your office?”
