Dakota put a hand on her knee. “I have to get back to the café. I see the making of scones in my very near future.” She squeezed until Jenna raised her eyes to meet Dakota’s. “But I’m around. Text me if you need me, okay? You got this.”
Jenna nodded.
Dakota pulled her into a hug. “Let’s grab drinks with Ronni. Tomorrow? I’ll set it up. Watch your texts.”
“Sounds good.” A night out with her girls might be just what she needed. “Thanks, Dakota.” She squeezed her friend tightly again.
When they separated, Dakota held on to Jenna’s shoulders and looked her in the eye with one more truth-pill stare as she said, “You deserve the best. Don’t you forget that. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” That one went down easier.
She sat back down in the chair as Dakota headed up the aisle and out the front door, calling a goodbye to Delia. She finished up the last sip of her coffee, then turned the paper cup around and around in her hands as she stared at it. This had hurt, mostly because she hadn’t been prepared for it. She hadn’t braced. She hadn’t done enough research. She’d let herself be blinded by her attraction to Sawyer—because, let’s face it, the woman is ridiculously gorgeous—and she hadn’t taken the time to suss out everything else she should know about somebody before she slept with them. That had been a mistake.
One she wouldn’t make again.
The day had been a hard one.
Slow. Hard to concentrate. Sawyer had been annoyed with herself for most of it. Colton kept peering at her, but thankfully, didn’t say a lot other than to ask her if she was okay.
She lied and said yes, that she was just tired.
He lied and pretended to believe her.
She got very little accomplished, and when five o’clock finally rolled around, she couldn’t escape her office building fast enough. Of course, that meant going home. Where Jenna lived next door.
Had she fucked up?
Her texts to Jenna had been quick—the day had been a busy one—but Jenna’s texts back had also been…abrupt? Simple? Not very emotional? Was Sawyer even allowed to be concerned about that when her own texts had been no more than three or four words here and there?
Jesus, new stuff was hard.
Gliding into the driveway, she saw Jenna’s car parked in her spot. The day was brisk and cold, and she pulled her jacket around her tightly as she gathered her stuff to head inside where she needed to figure out how best to approach Jenna.
Turned out, she didn’t need to think too hard because just as shelifted her foot to the first stair, Jenna’s door opened and she stepped outside with Arnold on a leash. Clearly, the dog had no idea what had happened because he came right to Sawyer, tail wagging, excited to see her. She smiled at him and gave him some pets.
“Hi,” she said as she looked up at Jenna’s face.
“Hey,” Jenna said. Her smile was there, but the wattage was dimmer than usual. “Um, I’m gonna walk Arnold, but…could we talk when I get back?”
“Absolutely.”
Jenna seemed relieved by her answer, which was curious, and Sawyer watched as she headed off with Arnold. Then she finished climbing up to the porch, fished out her keys, and went inside.
The coolness.
She’d never really noticed it before, the lack of warmth in her place, especially compared to Jenna’s. Her furniture was sleek and modern. It looked terrific, with all its angles and sharp edges, but it didn’tinvitethe way Jenna’s did. Her couch didn’t scream for her to come sit on it, to grab a blanket and burrow in, hunker down to watch TV. All her walls were white—which made sense, given that she was renting—and painting, adding some color, some warmth, hadn’t appeared on her radar.
She set her stuff down, moved to the center of her living room, and stood there, turning in a slow circle. Her stuff was beautiful and expensive. It was also cold.
Like Amanda’s house.
A small gasp escaped her at the realization. Oh, God, had she unconsciously modeled her place after Amanda’s? Looking around, there was one major difference: the books. She had small stacks of them on almost every surface. The end table. The coffee table. The mantel over the fireplace. She thought about Jenna’s house, how cozy and inviting it was and how she also had stacks of books all over the place. She would say it looked lived in, but she’d mean it in the most positive of ways. Jenna’s place screamed for you to come in, flop down, and make yourself at home. Grab a book. Put your feet up. It was all earthy colors and warm textures and comfort. Like Jenna.
With a sigh, she moved back over to the door so she could hang her coat and bag on the coat tree in the corner, and that’s when she heard a soft voice outside and the creak of the porch steps. Withoutthinking, she yanked the door open to Jenna and Arnold coming up the front stairs.
“How was the walk?” she asked.
“It was fine.” Jenna unclipped Arnold and let him inside, then wrapped her arms around herself against the chill in the air as they stood on the porch. “So, um…” She seemed to struggle with finding the right words, and Sawyer felt a pit settle in her stomach.
