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“For everything I said to you the other day. I was upset when you said we were over, and I lashed out at you. That wasn’t the right thing to do. I know now that you just want what’s best for your daughter and that’s to be with her father. I shouldn’t be angry or try to stand in the way of that. I only want what’s best for you and the baby, too.”
She seemed stunned by his apology, letting the words sink in before she finally responded. “Thank you, Sawyer. I’m sorry, too. I guess we both could’ve handled it better. I never should’ve entertained something with you when I knew what I wanted with Finn. I should’ve told you.”
With the air clear, they drove in silence across the peninsula until they closed in on his place. “You have reached your destination,” the GPS announced, disrupting the quiet inside the car as she pulled up in front of his house.
“You can turn into the drive just there.” Sawyer pointed and hit a button on his key chain to open the gate to his private driveway.
She turned in and came to a stop, shutting off the engine. “Let’s get you inside.”
Sawyer looked at her with confusion. “You’re coming in?”
Her pointed expression shot down any thoughts he might entertain about her inside his house. “I’m going to help you up the stairs and get you in the house. If you behave, I might make you some coffee and toast.”
Sawyer nodded and opened the car door. He was feeling pretty steady on his feet now, but as they moved toward the stairs, he felt less sure. Kat was quick to move to his side. She wrapped his arm around her shoulders and put hers around his waist.
“Grab the rail and help me,” she said, so he did.
It took three times fumbling with his keys and dropping them, but they finally made it inside his place. He stumbled in, shrugging out of his blazer and tossing it onto a wingback chair like he did every night. His keys went into a bowl by the door as he flipped on the overhead light.
He paused as Kat gasped, and figured the original rose medallion in the ceiling, along with the restored crystal chandelier, had caught her eye. Instead, when he turned, she was running her hand over the ornately carved wood of the staircase just to their right.
“The woodwork is beautiful.”
Sawyer looked around his living room and nodded. “I forget you’re a wood carver. You’ll find a lot you’ll like here. Much of the house had already been redone when I bought it, but thankfully, they left most of the original woodwork intact. The decorator I hired did a good job incorporating the existing historical details into my modern aesthetic.”
“I’m surprised you got all those words past your tongue,” Kat said with a smile.
“Very funny. The kitchen is this way.”
Kat followed him through the living room and into the kitchen at the rear of the house. He’d had it done in all white, with black hardware and dark antique fixtures for a stark, clean look. It seemed to go well with the original white shiplap that ran through the home and the tiny white octagon tiles on the floor.
She strolled through the kitchen, touching the quartz countertop and the faucet before bending over to look at the wood cabinetry of the island. He’d had that piece done by a local carpenter who carved the details by hand. Kat noticed immediately, running her fingers over the scrollwork.
“You don’t even cook in here, do you?” she asked, as she stood back up.
He shook his head, making himself dizzy, so he sat on a bar stool on the other side of the kitchen island. “I like things with clean lines, and designs that look tidy. I also like features that will help with resale down the road. This seemed like a good mix, whether I use it or not. And I have used the microwave,” he said, pointing out the stainless-steel machine mounted into the side of the island. “And the coffee maker.”
Kat nodded thoughtfully. “Well, speaking of coffee makers, you have been a good boy so far. I believe I promised you coffee and toast.”
“Coffee is in that jar, and bread is in the pantry over there.”
She followed his guidance, moving around the kitchen to prepare a late-night drunk man’s snack. A few minutes later, she presented him with a steaming mug of black coffee and a plate with two dry pieces of toast on it.
“It’s not haute cuisine, but it’s what you need. When you’re done, we’ll follow it up with a big glass of water and some ibuprofen. You’ll wake up feeling like a champ.”
“You know a lot about being drunk.”
Kat shrugged. “I went to college, same as you. Late-night parties followed by early morning lectures mean you learn how to cope, and quickly. I also lost my parents when I was in school. There are a few weekends I don’t remember after that happened. Water, Advil, toast and coffee are a combination that never fails.”
“I think I would’ve failed the semester if I lost my parents.”
“Well, fortunately, I went to an art school. They encouraged me to funnel my pain into my work, and my grades actually improved. Except for chemistry. I got a D in that,” she said with a smile.
Sawyer chuckled and finished his requisite meal quickly. As she put his dishes into the sink, he went over to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water. “Here you go,” he said, handing her one.
“Thanks. How are you feeling?”
“Better. It all seemed to hit at once tonight. Drinking that late was foolish,” he admitted. “But it got you here. I can’t complain about that.”
