“Thank you,” Sadie murmured, intensely aware of his proximity.
Corbyn’s hands lingered, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips. For a moment, Sadie thought he might lean in and close the small distance between them. She held her breath, and it felt like her heartbeat was so loud she was sure he would hear it. Everything seemed to slow, and Sadie swayed slightly forward, drawn by some invisible thread.
Just as Corbyn leaned in, Riley barreled between them, shaking pond water from his fur and drenching them both. Canine obliviousness had shattered the moment completely.
“Riley!” Corbyn sputtered, jumping back as droplets splattered his coat.
Sadie couldn’t help laughing, the sound a mix of relief and disappointment. “Perfect timing,” she quipped, wiping water from her cheek.
Corbyn shot the Irish wolfhound a look as he muttered, “You’re sleeping in the garden shed tonight.” Though she was quite sure it wasn’t really a threat.
Completely unaware of the moment he’d interrupted, Riley gazed up at them both joyfully, tail wagging in enthusiastic circles.
“We should probably get back,” Corbyn said, clearing his throat again, though his eyes still held a warmth that made Sadie’s stomach flutter. “Edie will have my head if you catch a chill.”
The moment had slipped away, but as they walked back toward the manor house, Riley trotting between them, Sadiecouldn’t help wondering what might have happened if Riley hadn’t interrupted. The thought should have alarmed her; the complications it could bring were undeniable. Somehow, though, it didn’t, and she couldn’t find it in herself to stop those musings.
March 4, 2025
-Corbyn-
Pacing his study, Corbyn could feel the tension building in his shoulders as he waited to hear the sound of tires coming down the driveway. He’d been awake since dawn, his mind too restless for sleep, knowing what today would bring.
Two nights ago, once Sadie had gone back to the inn after recovering from her migraine, he had made an online late-night purchase. It had been an uncharacteristically impulsive move, and he told himself it was a moment of weakness brought on by the desire to avoid any more interruptions to their editing schedule. It certainly had nothing to do with what Sadie had shared about her ex smashing her laptop or the fact that he had almost kissed her by the pond.
At least, that’s what he told himself as he entered his credit card information at 2 AM to purchase the newest model of the laptop Sadie had been looking at.
Now, waiting for her arrival, anxiety gnawed at his stomach. The order showed that it had been delivered to the inn, which meant she would have received it the previous night. He had sent it anonymously, but Sadie was smart, and she wouldinevitably figure it out. Rolling his shoulders, he made another lap around the study, stepping over Riley’s massive form as he had stretched out across the width of the room.
He froze when the telltale sound of gravel under tires reached his ears. Riley immediately stood and trotted out of the room, leaving him alone with his anxiety. Tugging absentmindedly on the collar of his navy sweater, he forced himself to take his next breath through his nose as he sat. Turning on the tablet, he picked up the stylus in an attempt to look casual, like he had been working all morning instead of obsessing over her reaction to the gift.
The front door opened, and the tapping of nails on the wood floor told him Riley was enthusiastically greeting his new favorite person. He held his breath, waiting to hear the sound of her steps fading as she headed toward the kitchen for tea, only that wasn’t what happened.
“Corbyn?”
Her voice rang out through the house, and he swallowed hard. When he noticed the subtle shake in his right hand, his eyes nearly rolled back into his head. He reminded himself he was in his mid-thirties, not a school lad with a crush on the girl sitting next to him.
“In here,” he called, his throat suddenly dry.
Sadie appeared in the doorway, slightly breathless, her gray eyes stormy as she met his. Her dark blonde hair was windblown, a few strands escaping from her usually neat ponytail, and there was a noticeable crease in her brow. Under her arm, she carried a sleek package.
“Can you explain this?” she asked, stepping into the study and placing the box on his desk carefully. No greeting, no small talk, just straight to the point. “It arrived at the inn last night. No card, no note, just my name on the delivery label.”
Corbyn shifted in his chair, his left hand unconsciously clenching in his lap, and he tried to sound surprised when he answered, “I’m not sure what you’re implying.”
“I’m not implying anything,” she replied, placing special emphasis on the word implying. “I’m asking directly. Did you send this?” She gestured to the box, continuing, “Because this is a three-thousand-dollar laptop, and frankly, you’re the only person I can think of who would both know I needed one and have the means to afford it.”
Her gaze bored into him, unwavering, and he had to fight not to sink down in his seat. He shook his head, dropping the stylus so he could run his hand through his hair.
“What if I did?” he asked, trying to maintain a neutral tone. “Would that be so terrible?”
“Why, though?” she asked, and that crease in her brow deepened with her confusion. He gripped the armrests of his chair when he suddenly had the desire to get up and smooth it away somehow. “We’ve barely known each other for a month.”
“You’re working yourself to exhaustion with these side projects, Reed,” he reasoned, forcing himself to drop his shoulders that had been creeping up toward his ears. “You’re no good to me half-dead from migraines.”
Her eyebrows shot up at his blunt assessment. Even though she was now looking at him like she might actually throw something at him, he was relieved to see the tension in her brow had disappeared.
“It’s practical,” he continued, forcing himself to look into the storm raging in her eyes. “You were kind enough to let me make use of your tablet, but it means you’re stuck squinting at your phone screen trying to get other work done. That’s not sustainable.”
