“I’ll be happy to do that, right after I finish writing my novel. Until that time, I’m on a strict diet of romantic fiction.”
“And donuts? But what about the movie? Surely you can watch a movie.”
Her head tilted to the side, a thoughtful look coming over her face. “Hmm. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything as long as it’s not a western. I’m having enough trouble keeping my thoughts in color.”
He wasn’t sure what that meant. “It’s nowhere near a western.”
She slapped the armrest. “That settles it then. We’ll watch ittomorrow night. I’ll stream the movie and you can provide the popcorn.”
Wait. “What?”
“You didn’t think I was going to watch it alone, did you? What fun is that? Besides, it was your idea.”
He supposed it was. Oh well, what harm could come from it? And what else did he have to do? Besides, he hadn’t watched it in years, and now that he knew her a little better, he found Sadie to be pleasant and kind of amusing.
“Fine,” he said. “But let’s watch it right after supper. Some of us have to work early.”
Sixteen
A good writer gives her hero and heroine a time and place to become emotionally and physically closer.
—Romance Writing 101
The next day after work Sam found himself in a hurry. He ran by the IGA and picked up microwave popcorn, using the self-checkout lane, which he never did. He downed his take-out meal (hamburger, fries, strawberry shake) in the car on the way home—again, an anomaly. Then once home he rushed through his shower.
He wasn’t hurrying because he was running late. He’d gotten off about his usual time. And he certainly wasn’t rushing because he was eager to see Sadie. He was just impatient to watch the movie again, see if it still held the same appeal it had in his early twenties. Also, he wanted to get Sadie’s impression of the movie.
He dressed in a black tee and his most comfortable jeans, slid on his flip-flops, and headed next door via the back deck. He wasalmost to her door when he realized he’d forgotten the popcorn and went back for it.
A minute later he tapped on her door. Maybe he should’ve bought drinks. Too late. He was overdue a trip to the grocery and could only offer orange juice or water.
The door slid open and Sadie beamed up at him. “Come in, come in. Got the popcorn?”
He held up the box as she ushered him inside. Rio danced around his feet, making movement difficult. He leaned down and scratched her behind the ears. “Settle down now. Jeez.”
“She’s excited to have company. Did you hear from Mary?”
He hated to extinguish the hope lighting her features. “’Fraid not.”
“Bummer. Surely we’ll hear from her tomorrow when the ship disembarks. Well, how was your day? I was awake early this morning—too early—and heard you leave. It was hardly even daylight.”
“I’m an early riser. What woke you?”
“Oh, it was a text from my mom.” Something crossed her features before her smile was back in place. “I had a great day though. I polished up my synopsis and I probably could’ve sent it to my editor, but I’m going to give it one last read-through in the morning.”
“That’s great.” His phone buzzed with an incoming call and he checked the screen. “Speaking of moms.”
“Go ahead and take it if you want. I’ll get the popcorn going. Butter and salt?”
“Sure.”
She headed toward the kitchen, just a few steps away. She looked comfortable in a loose pink shirt, a pair of leggings, and bare feet.
He accepted the call. “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
“Hi, honey. I was just having supper with your dad and talking about work. Thought I’d give you a call and see what you’ve been up to.”
“Mostly just work. I’m putting in pretty long days—we have a lot of yards on the island.”
