“Great. Now?”
“Yes. Come over now. But remember Dillon’s in bed. Don’t ring the doorbell. You might wake him up.”
“No problem. I’ll knock.”
She said nothing. It took him a moment to realize she’d ended the call.
Chapter Eight
When Riley opened the door and saw him standing right there on her front porch, it took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to fling herself into his arms.
“Hi,” he said, his eyes hopeful and his smile uncertain.
She kept her expression blank. Stepping back, she offered coolly, “Come in.” As soon as he cleared the threshold, she shut the door and led him into the living area. “Have a seat.” She gestured at a chair, and he took it. She sat on the sofa. “Okay, then. I’m listening.”
Leaning in, he braced his elbows on his knees. He looked so determined. She wanted to jump up, grab him, wrap him in her arms and promise him that everything would be all right.
She did no such thing. Yeah, in her heart she’d already forgiven him for walking out and then taking forever to call. But he didn’t need to know that yet.
“It’s like this,” he said. “When I asked you to marry me, I didn’t realize how much I wanted you to say yes—not until you turned me down. I headed for the door because I didn’t know how to unpack my own damn feelings. I still don’t know how. And I still want to marry you. Because of the baby, yeah. And because…well, we just work, you and me.”
She felt slightly breathless suddenly. “Okay…”
He tipped his head to the side, frowning. “What are you telling me, Riley? Okay, what?”
She threw up both hands. “Okay, I forgive you—but I meant what I said. I’m not getting married again.”
He looked grim. “I get it.” And then he nodded. “Understood. You’re not going to marry me. And never again will I say that I’ll call and thennotcall. I promise you that.”
“All right, then. We’re good.”
He stared at her so intensely. “You sure?”
“Absolutely.” She stared right back. The stare-down continued for a good thirty seconds. And then they were both grinning. And then she couldn’t just sit there. She jumped up, grabbed his hand, tugged him out of the chair and pulled him close.
He wrapped his arms around her. They stood there in the narrow space between the sofa and the coffee table, holding each other tight.
She wanted to kiss him, to take his hand and lead him up to her room. But it would be foolish to go there now—and not just because Dillon was home tonight.
Things were changing. What they had together needed to change, too.
He took her face between his hands. His big palms were warm. They felt so good pressed against her cheeks, both soothing and steadying. “So,” he said. “You’re not going to marry me. What does that make us?”
She suggested sheepishly, “Good friends and co-parents?”
His hands dropped to his sides. “Great,” he said, without much enthusiasm. “I think this is where you should get real honest, Riley Jane. This is where you need to lay it all out for me.”
She gave him a slow nod. “Okay, then. I’ve loved every minute of our secret fling. But it’s time for that to end.”
He said nothing. His eyes were locked with hers, and his mouth was a thin line.
She held his gaze and willed him to understand. “It was bound to happen eventually. Right now, we need to focus on the future, on Dillon and Shane and the new baby we’re having together.”
“I’m not arguing with you, Rile. I get what you’re saying. But hey. I like what we’ve had, and I hate to let it go.”
“Me, too. But it’s time, you know? It really is.”
And for more than one reason. In the past couple of weeks without him, she’d had a lot of time to think. And she’d had to come to grips with the fact that, while she might not want to get married again, Josh did. It just felt wrong to go on being lovers now that they so clearly wanted different things.
