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A pop drew his attention to the sauce he’d left simmering. Damn. He grabbed another spoon out of the drawer and dashed over. His hand caught on the pan handle as he thrust the spoon into the red wine sauce and it tilted. Sawyer tried to right it and swore when his fingers connected with hot metal. When he jerked it away, the pan came off the hob and the spoon flew to the floor. Red sauce splattered over his jeans and shirt.
“Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?” Maddie stood in the doorway, glass of wine in hand.
He snatched up a cloth and tried to wipe away the sauce before inspecting his burned fingers. “Everything is under control.”
She placed the glass on the counter and came over to inspect the mess. She peered at his hand and glanced up at him. “You’ve burned yourself?”
“It’s nothing.”
When she took her hand in his and dragged him to the sink to stick it under cold water, he was powerless to stop her. The way her soft hand held his made him feel about as strong as a dandelion in the wind.
She held his hand under the tap until his fingers felt numb. He tried to draw away but she kept his hand firm. “Just a little longer.”
To be honest, he could stand there all day, holding her hand, tracing the gentle curves of her cheek with his gaze and remembering how he used to skim his fingers over the cute dimples in them, but he needed to get the steaks cooking and the potatoes were going to burn if he wasn’t careful.
A smile curved across her face. “Do you remember when you set fire to your butt?”
He half-groaned, half-chuckled. He was never going to live that night down. They’d stolen some fireworks from his dad’s shed and taken them to the edge of the woods to light. It had gone great until one tipped over at the last minute and struck a tree. As he tried to put it out, the tail of his shirt had caught alight. It hadn’t really done any damage but their friends had loved to describe the way he ran around with his butt on fire.
“I remember.” He managed to slide his hand out from hers and turn off the tap before drying it on a towel. “I also remember you laughing at me while I went up in flames.”
Her eyes grew soft as she gazed up at him. “I knew you’d be okay. You always were. You were invincible.”
Sawyer wasn’t. Never had been. But while he told Maddie a lot, she never knew quite how bad things were at home. His reckless ways had been a good way to forget the way his dad treated him. And yes, he was old enough now to admit that he’d hoped it would get his father’s attention. Of course, it’d never worked. The only attention he received was negative. Thank God he’d stopped trying to hit him once he’d grown big enough to fight back.
None of that mattered now. Not when Maddie stared at him with doe-like eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been interested in staring into a woman’s eyes. Maybe never. So much time had passed but when he looked into those hazel eyes, he remembered his best friend and realised she was still there. He knew he’d missed her, but until this moment, he hadn’t realised how much.
“We had some good times, huh?” he said, turning away to check on the potatoes.
He righted the pan and inspected the contents. There would be just enough sauce, thank God. Then he put a griddle on the hob and got the steaks ready to cook.
“Yes, we did.” The words were soft and sad. They made his heart ache. “So,” she said brightly, “is it nice to be back? Did you miss Ballicliff?”
Sawyer lifted a shoulder. “I missed you.” He shot a pointed look her way before reaching for the steaks and putting them on the sizzling griddle pan.
The truth was, city life had been wearing thin. But where else was he going to go? His publisher was in London so it was useful to be close by and the thought of returning to his father’s home didn’t appeal at all. As far as he was concerned, that place would have been better off being demolished. He had no fond memories of it.
Maddie didn’t seem to know what to say, so he saved her from making conversation. “I’d better change.” He flicked down the heat and eyed the food. “I’ll serve everything up when I come down. Why don’t you sit?”
“Do you need me to do anything?”
“Just sit.”
“Sawyer,” she called as he was halfway out of the kitchen, “is the bathroom upstairs?”
“Yep, right at the top of the stairs.”
He hurried to change, cursing himself and his dumb luck. He’d spent too damn long choosing this shirt as well. Now his best jeans were covered in sauce too. The cottage had two bedrooms, both small and both with low beams. Thankfully, he remembered to duck this time. He had opted for the one facing out across the harbour and had left the curtains open so he could see the lights from the houses opposite.
Ballicliff was built so the houses were mostly on the hills either side of the harbour. It meant a lot of steep steps and roads connected the village and the quaint look attracted a lot of tourists. Luckily, he’d been able to throw a lot of money at a holiday cottage company and they managed to pull some strings for him to get him this house at the last minute. Even if his father’s house had been in good condition, he sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted to stay in it.
Pulling out a clean, dark blue shirt, he laid it out, found some clean jeans and unbuttoned his soiled ones. He stripped quickly down to his briefs and flung them on an empty chair that matched the rest of the room. The bedroom was as quaint as the rest of the house with oak furniture and pale blue, floral bedding. He supposed that probably appealed to holiday-makers but it didn’t do much for him.
A creak of the steps told him Maddie was coming up to use the bathroom.
He drew on his jeans and began to do them up. He paused on the second button. The door to the bathroom hadn’t shut yet. What was she doing? He listened carefully this time and there was another squeak of floorboards. He held his breath. Was she outside his bedroom? Sawyer glanced in the mirror and realised he’d left the door ajar.
