on the hardwood floor each time she pivoted on her heel. Normally, she found this room soothing. After the fire that had damaged a large part of the building, Harper had seen to it that the back office was remodeled into a charming work space for Connor. Though it wasn’t overly large, the slate-blue walls and sea-glass collage artwork were calming. Harper shared the space with Connor, too, and while his half of the room was usually a jumble of papers and notes, Harper’s tiny glass-topped desk remained neat and tidy, often with fresh flowers in the pottery vase displayed on the corner surface. Rory had caught Connor adding flowers to that vase on more than one occasion. It warmed her to think her brother could be such a romantic where Harper was concerned.
Today, however, she spared little thought for her brother’s love life. She was too overwhelmed with her own.
Sawyer was here. Back in Findlay Roads. In the restaurant. Sawyer was here...for her? After the last couple of years trying to separate herself from the idea of ever seeing him again, he was suddenly back. And he’d sought her out.
She was still trying to wrap her head around this revelation when a soft knock sounded on Connor’s office door.
A second later, it eased open, and Connor stuck in his head.
Behind him, she caught a glance of Sawyer. She stepped back and shook her head.
“No. Connor, no. I said I don’t want to talk to him.”
Connor grimaced. “I know, but I can’t have him in the restaurant.”
“Then kick him out!”
“He won’t go without talking to you first.”
She scowled.
“Rory, please.” Sawyer’s voice sounded from the crack in the doorway. He edged it open and stood next to Connor. “Just five minutes. Five minutes, and then I won’t bother you anymore. Please.”
She raised her chin. “I can’t. I’m on the clock.”
“Not anymore,” Connor said. “You’re taking a break.”
“I just got here,” she protested, but Connor’s gaze pleaded with her.
“Vanessa can fill in for you for a bit.”
Rory opened her mouth to protest and then closed it. If Connor was asking her to do this then she should. He wouldn’t make such a request of her lightly.
“Fine,” she snapped. “Five minutes.”
Connor appeared relieved and then sheepish. “Um, would you both mind discussing things...elsewhere?”
Rory raised an eyebrow.
“I think it would be better if Sawyer left the premises,” he explained.
“Oh.” Rory wasn’t sure what that was about, but decided that if she was going to talk to Sawyer, it didn’t matter whether it was here or somewhere else.
“Why don’t we take a stroll on the promenade?” Sawyer suggested.
Rory folded her arms across her chest.
“Fine. But your five minutes starts the next time you open your mouth.”
Sawyer nodded but wisely didn’t utter a sound.
* * *
THE PROMENADE WAS blessedly vacant this time of day as people spent the late afternoon hours shopping or sailing on the bay. A few couples were scattered along the boardwalk and one man was fishing over one of the railings, but they were spread out so that Rory and Sawyer were mostly alone.
Sawyer had taken her at her word about when the timer on his five minutes would begin. He said nothing as they’d walked from Callahan’s to the promenade and still remained silent as they began strolling the stretch of boardwalk. After a good three minutes of silence, Rory grew too uncomfortable to allow it to continue. She stopped and turned to face him, crossing her arms over her torso. She made a point of tapping her wrist.
“Okay. You can start talking now.”
But he didn’t, not right away. At first, she thought he was antagonizing her, but then she realized he seemed to be searching for the words. His struggle gave her a moment to study him more closely. His light brown hair was trimmed short around his ears and behind his neck. She couldn’t see any more, since he still wore the baseball cap he’d been sporting in the restaurant. He didn’t wear any sunglasses, despite the afternoon sunshine. A part of her wished he had. It was difficult to stare into the familiar warmth of his blue eyes. He had a faint dusting of scruff along his jaw, and she wasn’t sure if it was an intended effect or whether he’d just not bothered shaving that morning. Maybe he’d been in too much of a hurry...to see her?
She tensed. She couldn’t let herself think such things.
It was hard not to, though, when he kept stealing glances at her, his mouth twitching slightly every time she met his gaze. It was also strange to be standing so near to him, after so much time apart.
He was somehow different...and yet still Sawyer. The way he carried himself was new to her. He moved with an easy confidence, maybe even a touch of arrogance, as if he’d finally found his place in the world, and no one could take him from it.
She hated that. She admired it. She envied it.
“I’m going to start timing you whether you speak or not,” she announced, as much to jump-start the conversation as to take her mind off her emotions.
“You said you wouldn’t start timing until I started talking.”
She smirked at his slip. He made a face.
“Okay, round one to Rory.”
She didn’t reply, simply tapped a finger on her hip, pretending to tick off the seconds—though she was really just waiting to hear what he’d say next.
“Please stop that.”
She ignored him. He groaned.
“Fine. Listen. I’m sorry. I was a jerk. I was selfish and inconsiderate, and maybe a little bit dazzled by the idea of my name in lights.”
“A little bit?”
He looked at her, managing to catch her eyes with his so that she couldn’t look away.
“I don’t know how else to say it except that I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did—you didn’t deserve that. I’ve missed you.”
Her heart began to pick up speed.
“You’re unhappy?”
He hesitated. “No,” he admitted. “I can’t say that I’m unhappy. I...love what I’m doing. I love performing, and I’ve gotten to travel the world. It’s—” he drew a deep breath “—it’s everything I ever dreamed.”
Her heart continued racing, but this time in anger.
“You came all this way to tell me that? ‘I’m
