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And he wasn’t even sure he cared. “Ri?” Sam prompted.
She turned back to Brent with a sheepish smile. “I’ll call you later?”
“Sure,” he said giving her an understanding look.
The look he gave Sam was much less tender, but Sam didn’t bother to look apologetic. He lifted his hand and gave an annoying little finger wiggle at the other man. See ya.
Riley turned back around to face Sam once Brent was gone, and he realized he’d been wrong. She may have planned for this, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t a little pissed. Okay, a lot pissed, he amended as he took in the fire in her eyes.
“Okay, you’ve got your minute,” she said, emphasizing the last word.
Translation: Make it fast.
Don’t worry. He would.
He jerked his head toward her father’s rarely used study, and her expression went slightly wary before she rolled her eyes and marched her tight ass into the little space at the front of the house.
After a quick glance confirmed they were alone, Sam followed.
“There’s no room in here,” she muttered.
Sure enough, Josh’s “office” was more of a Christmas storage/unused furniture/abandoned craft-supply storeroom.
He nudged her in anyway, shutting the door so it was just the two of them in the crowded space. The late-afternoon sunshine caught on her dangling earrings, and Sam focused on that. It was a hell of a lot easier than focusing on her face.
“What do you want, Sam?” she asked, her voice bored, her eyes uninterested.
He searched her features. Had he been wrong? Had Brent been something more than a tool to make him jealous? His gut said no, but his heart wasn’t sure he wanted the risk.
And his body … hell. Maybe privacy hadn’t been what he and Riley needed right now. In fact, as he watched her chest rise and fall beneath her low-cut red sweater, he was suddenly sure that privacy was the last thing they needed.
“What’s the mute caveman thing?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows. “I told my mom I’d help do the dishes, and then I need to get back to the city to do my edits due tomorrow—”
Dishes? She was seriously thinking about dishes right now? He was ready to explode, and she was talking about goddamned chores?
Well, he had something else in mind. Something a whole lot more pressing than dishes.
Don’t do this, man, he ordered himself. He’d promised Liam. He’d promised himself.
He was no good for her, and one of them was going to get hurt.
“Right. Okay then,” she muttered, trying to edge around him, her hand going for the doorknob.
Let her go.
He couldn’t.
Sam’s hand found her wrist before she could turn the knob, and they both froze, their breath coming fast and heavy.
His thumb moved over her palm, and she gasped at the touch. He knew what she was feeling. They’d done a damn good job of avoiding physical contact over the years, and this was why.
“Sam—”
He moved then, pressing her into the door, his eyes locking on hers for a split second before his hand went around the back of her neck and he lowered his head.
And then he kissed her.
Holy hell, he was kissing Riley McKenna.
