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“You could try to show a little interest,” Kathryn said.
He was not going to be criticized when he already felt like shit. “I have tried.”
“Not the night I came to dinner.”
He really didn’t like his sister right now. “That’s not fair. I wanted a night with Riley. We’d planned—”
“That doesn’t matter. This all has to get done.”
Kathryn was using her most imperious tone, and he was close to hanging up on her. “I was quite enthusiastic about Susan’s pastries, but I hate for her to add to her workload.”
“She wants to, Thorne. People want to do nice things for you; even me. God knows why.”
“You’re doing it for Riley because you feel sorry for him.”
Kathryn huffed. “Yes, that’s it.”
“Fine. I’ll try, okay?”
Kathryn sighed.
“You don’t believe me.”
“You mean well, but what would work better than pretending would be honesty.”
Was she serious? “If I were honest, I’d tell him I shouldn’t have agreed to the wedding.”
“That’s right.”
She had to be joking. “But how can you say that’s better?”
“Because suffering through it and getting more and more annoyed by it for three more months is going to be worse.”
“Than telling Riley I changed my mind and he can’t have his dream wedding? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It’s better than there not being a wedding at all.”
Her words, combined with the taxi driver’s insane antics as he changed lanes, made Thorne’s stomach churn. “You don’t really think he’s that put out with me?”
“Not now. But think how you’ll both feel in a few months.”
“I said yes for him so he could have what he wanted.”
“What he really wants is the two of you married.”
Thorne was ready to scream. “But that was what I wanted.”
“Talk to him. Be honest.”
“Sometimes honesty hurts too much.”
“And sometimes people are just too chicken to be honest.”
“Kathryn, I am not—” He realized he was shouting.
“Think about it, Thorne. Really think about it. Better to hurt him a little now than a lot later.”
“It’s too late to change plans now.”
“No, it’s not. But the invitations will be sent soon, and then it will be too late.”
“I’m at my meeting. I’ve got to go.” He wasn’t, but he couldn’t take more of her advice.
“Have a nice flight home tomorrow.”
That was unlikely, especially now.
***
When he landed in Atlanta, Thorne got a taxi to his office. He longed to see Riley, but first he had to debrief his team about the trip and handle a few other fires that had grown out of control while he was gone. During the taxi ride, he sent Riley a text: Landed. Have to take care of some things at the office. When will you be home? I can order dinner.
He didn’t get a response, but he figured Riley was baking or meeting with someone about bakery business.
A pile of mail lay in the center of Thorne’s desk. He flipped through a few solicitations he wasn’t interested in, and then he came to an envelope that looked conspicuously generic. Test results. It had to be. No return address to respect privacy. He’d had them sent to the office so there’d be no chance of Riley being there when they arrived. He wanted it to be a surprise.
He slid his letter opener along the top edge of the envelope, heart pounding. He knew he’d been careful, but how can you not be nervous at such a moment?
Whew. Negative. Thank God.
Could he convince Riley to forego waiting and celebrate tonight? Even if they still waited, it was worth celebrating. They could go out somewhere or just stay in. Maybe he could encourage Riley to bake something special, or they could have another cooking lesson. Those always degenerated rapidly.
Thorne contemplated canceling his meeting, locating Riley, and insisting he come home right then. No. He shook his head, chiding himself. They both had to work. He’d just have to be patient, something Riley and most people who knew him would say was impossible.
However, he couldn’t resist texting Riley with a tease. I’ve got a surprise for you. Let’s do something special.
He’d still not gotten a response by the time his meeting started. Riley almost always texted him back quickly. But there was no reason to worry. They’d see each other soon.
***
Thorne tapped his fingers against his leg as the elevator ascended. Why couldn’t this damn thing move any faster? His meetings had lasted much too long, and the traffic on the drive home had been even worse than usual despite his leaving early. Damn, he missed Riley. Things had been off when he’d left, and he’d hardly talked to Riley while he was gone. Thorne needed to see him, kiss him, fuck him, rub himself all over him. He really hoped Riley was home. If not, he might have to go track him down.
Ding.
Finally. The top floor. Thorne exited the elevator, pulling his suitcase behind him.
