Sadie’s expression remained guarded, though something flickered in her eyes—surprise, perhaps shock that he’d beenpaying such close attention. “So this is… what? A bribe to keep me focused solely on your book?”
“It’s a gift to prevent a repeat of the other day,” Corbyn replied, trying to ignore the fact that he knew that was only a secondary reason. “The book needs to be finished. You need to be functioning to help me finish it.”
“I can’t accept something like this,” she insisted, but he didn’t miss the way her voice softened. Her eyes met his again, and it seemed like the storm was passing. For a moment, her eyes turned bright, and he thought she might actually cry. “It’s too much.”
“It’s not really a gift,” he insisted, even though they both knew it was. The way she looked from him to the box on his desk, eyes wide and disbelieving, had him wondering how long it had been since anyone had done something like this simply because she deserved it. “Consider it a business investment. A tool for work.” She started to open her mouth, and he continued on, “Before you say it, you will not be paying me back or whatever it was you were about to suggest. I want you at your best without worrying about finances or juggling late-night freelance work after our sessions.”
Sadie shook her head, and her voice was thick when she told him, “That’s not how this works. I’m your editor, not your…” She trailed off, as if uncertain how to finish the sentence. “I don’t want charity because you feel bad about what I told you regarding Nate.”
The room fell silent save for Riley’s rhythmic breathing and the distant ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. When Corbyn’s shoulders dropped this time, it had nothing to do with trying to appear composed.
“Look,” he said finally, his voice softening as he stood from his chair, moving around the desk so he was standing in front of her, “I know it seems excessive. But you’re working yourselfragged, and you need proper equipment. Yes,” he added, before she could interrupt, “what you told me about your ex destroying your laptop factored into it. But that’s not the main reason.”
Something in Sadie’s expression shifted, curiosity replacing some of her wariness. He fought the urge to shy away as she studied his face, almost as if she was looking for some sign of deception. There was a pang in his chest at the realization that she didn’t believe him, and he reminded himself that he wasn’t the only one with a reason to have issues with trust. He realized in that moment that it was a very good thing Nate was thousands of miles away. Every time he thought about the prat, it triggered some long-buried protective instinct.
“Then what is?”
“I’ve spent four years struggling with this book,” Corbyn replied, surprising himself with his honesty. “You’re making it not just possible, but good. Better than I thought it could be. You shouldn’t have to choose between your health and having the basic tools you need to do your job. This isn’t charity or some grand gesture. It’s practical. For both of us.”
Finally, she sighed, and he saw her body relax; a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she chuckled. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told,” Corbyn said, relief easing the tightness in his own body, and he leaned back against the desk. “Frequently. By everyone who knows me.”
“Regardless of what you said, I will pay you back over time,” Sadie replied firmly.
“That’s not necessary…”
“It is to me,” she interrupted, her tone stopping him short. She could be nearly as intimidating as Edie when she wanted to be. “I accept the gesture, Corbyn. I appreciate it more than I can say, but I need to maintain some… boundaries.”
The word hung between them. Boundaries. Each day, they carefully navigated those invisible lines that seemed to blur and reform as she slowly broke down his walls. He was beginning to detest that word.
Corbyn nodded though, knowing he had no choice but to agree as he responded, “Alright. If that’s what you need.”
A smile bloomed across Sadie’s face, genuine and warm. “Thank you. For understanding. And, well, for this.” She gestured to the laptop box and added, “It really is thoughtful, even if it’s way over the top.”
She took a step forward and time seemed to stand still as she closed the small distance between them and brushed her lips against his cheek. His right cheek was closest to her, and she didn’t shy away from the scars that ran along his jaw.
He was acutely aware of everything about that moment. The scent of her shampoo, the way she placed a hand on his arm to steady herself, the warmth that spread through him at the soft touch of her lips. He found himself wishing time really had stopped when she pulled away, a shy smile tugging at her lips as she looked up at him.
“You’re welcome,” Corbyn said, his voice rough, a tingling feeling running down his spine.
A blush was creeping up her neck and blooming across her cheeks, and he was pretty sure his own were a similar shade of pink. They stared at each other for a moment, her gray eyes searching his blue, as if looking for a sign he might react poorly to the gesture. A few weeks ago, he would have sent her packing back to the inn, likely back to New York. Now, though, all he could think about was that inexplicable pull between them.
He unconsciously turned so he was facing her, his right hand reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He heard her breath catch, her pupils dilating slightly as he traced her jaw. She bit her lip, and his eyes wereimmediately drawn to the action. A little voice in the back of his mind was saying something about boundaries and how the last thing she needed was someone as damaged as he was. Yet he still leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away.
“I brought you two tea and pasties.” Edie’s voice called just before she appeared in the office door.
They broke apart quickly, Sadie reaching for her bag and busying herself with retrieving her red pens, her head ducked. Corbyn, his own cheeks warm once more, turned to retreat behind his desk, trying to calm his pounding heart and shaking hands.
“Thank you, Edie,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice sounded hoarse. “The pasties smell delicious.”
He risked a glance up at Edie, who was still standing in the doorway, looking between him and Sadie, a little smirk playing at her lips. When she met his eyes, she quirked an eyebrow before moving to the coffee table to set down the tray. Her gaze flickered to the laptop box on Corbyn’s desk, then back to them with obvious amusement as she said, “I see you’ve been having an interesting morning.”
“Edie…” Corbyn began, a warning in his voice.
“Don’t mind me,” she chirped, heading back toward the door. “I’ll just leave you both to your work. Wouldn’t want to distract you from such an important… literary collaboration.”
The emphasis she placed on ‘collaboration’ was subtle but unmistakable. He was all too aware of the way Sadie’s cheeks flushed again as Edie disappeared down the hallway. The silence stretched between them, and from the corner of his eye, Corbyn saw Sadie shift in her seat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
