“Good thing we’re nearly finished then,” he replied, each word sending a warm brush of air that had tingles running through her body. She felt him smile as he picked up the stylus again with his right hand, his left arm remaining securely around her waist, fingers splayed possessively across her ribs.
When she had first arrived in Great Missenden, she never could have imagined them sitting like this. Back then, she’d been determined to maintain professional distance despite the inexplicable pull she’d felt from their first meeting. But now it felt as natural as breathing, as right as the final sentence of a perfectly crafted story.
They made the final adjustments together, her suggestions flowing seamlessly with his execution, until the manuscript truly was complete. When Corbyn finally saved the document and turned off the tablet, silence settled between them, each lost in their thoughts. They both jumped when the door to the study opened, and Ellie’s excited voice cut through the silence.
“Edie told me you were finishing the book today, so I thought I’d…” Ellie trailed off abruptly as she took in the scene before her. Her eyes widened in surprise, taking in their intimate position with obvious delight. “Oh.”
The single syllable hung in the air, a sly grin spreading across Ellie’s face. Sadie immediately moved to stand, heat flooding her cheeks in a rush at being caught in such a compromising position, but Corbyn’s arm tightened around her waist, holding her in place.
“Stay,” he murmured against her ear, and the combination of his voice and his breath against her skin sent a shiver through her that Ellie definitely noticed—her smirk and arched eyebrow gave her away.
“Behave,” Sadie whispered back, swatting at his hand as he tried to pull her back down. But she was smiling despite her embarrassment, unable to resist his newfound playfulness.
“We’ve just finished the final chapter,” Corbyn told his sister, trying to appear nonchalant, although Sadie could see the slight flush creeping up his neck above his collar.
“I can see that,” Ellie replied, her eyes dancing with undisguised delight as she fully entered the room and closed the door behind her, her gaze fixed on her brother with a wicked little grin. “Very… collaborative finishing technique you’ve developed there, Corbie. Is this the sort of thorough editing process they teach in university these days?”
“Don’t…” Corbyn began, but his protest was doomed from the start.
“Because if so,” Ellie continued blithely, settling herself in the worn leather armchair across from them with the apparent intent to stay, “I might need to reconsider my career path. Medicine suddenly seems terribly dull.”
Sadie bit back a laugh, returning to her chair. Corbyn could growl and grumble all he liked, but she knew he had a softspot for his sister. They had a dynamic she had come to enjoy watching, Ellie’s sharp wit a match for her own.
“We were working,” Corbyn said with as much dignity as a man could muster while his sister’s grin threatened to split her face in half.
“Oh, I’m sure you were,” Ellie said solemnly. “Tough work, by the looks of it. Quite hands-on. I do hope Sadie’s getting proper compensation for such… dedicated editorial services.”
“Don’t start,” Corbyn warned. Sadie had learned to read the subtle differences in his tone. This was exasperated affection, something that was common when he was dealing with Ellie.
“Start what? I’m impressed by your commitment to the collaborative process,” Ellie laughed, crossing her legs with a triumphant smile. “In fact, I think we should celebrate the completion of the book with a toast!”
“Edie keeps a bottle of good champagne hidden in the back of the refrigerator, ‘just in case,’” Corbyn quoted, glancing over at Sadie, the hint of a smile forming as his shoulders relaxed once more. “She thinks no one knows it’s there.”
“Well, why don’t I get it while you two catch up?” Sadie said, pushing up from the chair to stand. “I think Edie’s still in town shopping, so I won’t have to be too sneaky.”
Heading out of the study, Riley followed her into the kitchen. When she opened the cabinet door to retrieve three champagne flutes, he nudged her back with his nose, eliciting a laugh. She turned to look at him, and a little whine escaped him as he looked hopefully in the direction of the tin where Edie kept his dog biscuits.
“You know, handsome, Edie is going to hide these if she catches me sneaking them to you,” she told the dog as she set the glasses down and rewarded him with a treat. Taking it from her gently, he trotted off back toward the study. With a shake ofher head, she muttered fondly, “Well, I see your loyalty is short-lived.”
For a moment she stood in the middle of the kitchen, soaking in the familiar sights and scents. The scones Edie had baked that morning sat on the counter under a covered dish, everything in its place exactly as she liked it. Paul’s toolbox sat by the back door, and her coat was mixed among those of the others on the hooks just above it.
Reality surged through her, and she found herself rapidly blinking back tears. Her assignment was over. She was expected to return to New York, to go back to a life that no longer felt like her own. To leave behind the people who had become her family.
She sank into one of the chairs at the table, champagne and celebration forgotten. Her chest ached at the thought of never sipping tea and getting words of wisdom from Edie, never throwing another stick for Riley, never waking up in Corbyn’s arms again. They hadn’t discussed the future, which meant he hadn’t asked her to stay.
A few days ago, she had a video call with Jess. True to her word, her best friend had handled Nate, getting the legal department to send a cease and desist letter and arrange for a restraining order. That should have made her happy, to know that she had someone in New York looking out for her safety, but it had just been another reminder that her time here was coming to an end.
The sound of nails on the hardwood floor drew her attention and she looked up to find Riley padding back into the kitchen. The dog let out a low whine before going to her. He sat, tall enough that his head came to rest against her chest. Wrapping her arms around him, she buried her fingers in his fur as the tears finally escaped.
“It’s over, handsome,” she whispered softly, wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. “Tomorrow I’ll make arrangements to go back to New York.”
Riley let out a sigh, leaning his head more firmly against her, and the simple act of unconditional love broke something inside her. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head down against his, letting the tears fall silently. The hound, her furry sentinel, simply stood there, letting her draw comfort from his silent presence.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, just letting herself feel everything that had been building since the very first time she arrived at the manor. When she heard familiar heavy footsteps coming down the hall, she sat up, wiping her face once more with her sweater. Standing, she hurried to the refrigerator, trying to hide the fact that she had been crying.
“Did Edie catch you and throw you in the dungeon, Reed?” Corbyn asked, his teasing tone almost making her lose her composure.
“No, Riley conned me into belly rubs before I could look,” she answered, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way her voice was still thick with emotion, or the sound of her sniffles when she tried to inhale.
