Chapter 14 February 24, 2025
-Corbyn-
An unfamiliar anticipation tightened in Corbyn’s chest the moment Sadie’s rental car rounded the bend. He had settled into one of the weathered wicker chairs on the porch and found himself straightening in his seat when he spotted the car.
She didn’t immediately exit the vehicle, and he found himself studying her from his spot through the windshield.
She closed her eyes briefly, and her lips were moving in what might have been whispered encouragement.
Then, she took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping out into the chilly February air.
The short ritual struck him, and he wondered if she still found working with him so challenging that she needed to gather herself beforehand.
The thought caused an unexpected feeling of regret.
He had been trying to control his temper since their last clash, keeping cutting remarks and dismissive behavior to a minimum.
He had thought that they had reached some sort of common ground, but perhaps he had misjudged how much damage had been done during their earlier sessions.
Before he could dwell on this realization, a blur of tan fur ran across the lawn.
Riley charged toward Sadie, tail wagging wildly as he nearly crashed into her.
Instead of her taking a step back, as Corbyn expected, she opened her arms to the dog, who stood on his hind legs to put his front paws on her shoulders.
He was prepared to correct Riley when he heard Sadie’s laugh.
“Well, good morning to you, too, you big goofball,” she exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face.
Corbyn leaned forward slightly in the chair, caught by the transformation. Without her usual calm, professional mask, her face was softer and more expressive. She roughed up the fur behind Riley’s ears before giving him a gentle push so he stood on all fours once more.
“Alright, alright,” she laughed as Riley nudged insistently at her hand. “Let’s find you a stick, shall we?”
He watched as she scanned the frost-covered grass, spotting a branch nearby that she quickly retrieved before the hound could grab it. With an exaggerated wind-up that had Riley practically bouncing with anticipation, she tossed the stick in a high arc over the dog’s head.
“Go get it, boy!”
Riley launched himself skyward, a graceful leap despite his lanky build. His powerful jaws snapped shut around the stick mid-air, and he landed with a triumphant huff that made Sadie clap her hands in delight.
“Good boy! That was impressive!”
Corbyn couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene.
This version of Sadie Reed, playful, animated, and genuinely joyful, was miles from the woman who sat across from him in his study each day.
Something about seeing her like this, with her hair slightly disheveled and her professional guard completely lowered, pulled at a forgotten part of him.
The game continued, Riley returning the stick for several rounds before deciding to change the rules. Instead of bringing it back, he planted his rear in the air, head lowered in a comical play bow, the stick firmly clenched in his jaws.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?” Sadie called, placing her hands on her hips in mock indignation. “You think you can out-stubborn me, huh?”
Riley’s tail swished back and forth, stick clenched firmly in his mouth as if to say, Bring it on, human.
“Alright, you adorable menace,” Sadie declared, crouching and taking a fake step toward the dog so he would spring backwards in excitement. “Let’s see who wins this standoff. My money’s on the one with opposable thumbs!”
Riley danced away as she playfully lunged for the stick, his body swaying gleefully.
The standoff continued, Sadie laughing as she made increasingly theatrical attempts to retrieve the prize.
They engaged in this light-hearted battle of wills for several minutes, with Riley always staying just out of reach.
As if sensing his gaze, Sadie glanced up suddenly, their eyes meeting across the lawn.
Instead of immediately looking away, she held his gaze, her grin turning into a soft smile.
For a moment, they simply looked at each other, neither moving nor speaking.
The unexpected connection made Corbyn’s pulse quicken, something it seemed to be doing around her more often lately.
“Enjoying the show?” she called, aiming for lightness but not entirely hiding a hint of something else in her tone. It wasn’t quite embarrassment, but perhaps a bit of self-consciousness.
“It’s not often I see Riley bested at his own game,” he replied, surprising himself with the ease in his voice.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say I’ve bested him yet,” Sadie laughed, gesturing to the stick firmly clamped in Riley’s jaws. “We’re in a bit of a standoff.”
Something in her relaxed posture and the way her smile remained when she looked at him felt like an invitation to join them. Before he could overthink it, Corbyn rose from the wicker chair and descended the porch steps.
“Then allow me to be the tiebreaker,” he said, whistling once, sharp and clear. Riley’s ears perked up immediately. “Drop it.”
The stick fell to the ground as Riley bounded over, his loyalty shifting seamlessly. The Irish Wolfhound’s tail wagged furiously as Corbyn scratched behind his ears.
“And here I thought we had a special bond,” Sadie muttered with a chuckle as she approached them.
“He’s fickle,” Corbyn replied, surprising himself again with this easy banter. “Hard-won loyalty through years of table scraps and belly rubs.”
Sadie’s smile widened, and she laughed as she said, “A strategy I’ll have to remember.”
A rare, companionable quiet settled between them, so different from the tense quiet that usually filled his study. There was something striking about her features when animated by genuine emotion rather than careful professionalism.
“We should get started,” Corbyn said, suddenly aware of how long he’d studied her face. “I made some progress on the warehouse scene last night.”
“Lead the way,” Sadie replied, bending to retrieve her bag from where she’d dropped it during the game with Riley.
As she straightened, Riley circled behind her and bumped against the backs of her knees.
Sadie stumbled forward with a surprised “Oh!” as her balance failed her.
Corbyn moved instinctively, closing the distance between them in two quick strides.
His hands found her waist, steadying her before she could fall.
“Riley,” he admonished, wincing a bit at the sudden movement. “Manners.”
His attention, though, wasn’t on the dog.
It was on the warmth beneath his fingers where they gripped Sadie’s sides, on the subtle citrus scent that reached him as she turned her face in surprise.
His left hand, usually so stiff and uncooperative, seemed to have forgotten its limitations and curved perfectly against the soft fabric of her coat.
“Sorry,” she murmured, her voice oddly breathy. “He caught me off guard.”
Corbyn realized he was still holding her, though she had regained her balance. His hands lingered at her waist, the contact sending an unfamiliar warmth through his body. Time seemed to stand still as they stared at each other, until Riley’s bark startled them both back to reality.
“Happens to the best of us,” he managed, his voice rougher than he had intended, as he reluctantly released her and stepped back. “He forgets his size.”
The moment stretched between them, loaded with something neither seemed prepared to name. Sadie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks flushed from more than just the morning chill.
Clearing his throat, Corbyn finally looked away, his attention drifting back toward the house. With an awkward sweep of his hand, he asked, “Shall we?”
Together, they walked to the house, Riley following them inside and then into the kitchen.
Edie had left a pot of tea on the island with two mugs, and he watched Sadie immediately start to fix two cups of tea.
Somehow, she had learned that he took his with a splash of milk, and she slid the perfectly made drink toward him on the island.
Riley sat next to her, his head leaning against her side until she reached down to stroke his fur while she poured her own tea.
“He’s shameless,” Corbyn commented, nodding toward the dog. “Always knows who to charm for attention.”
Sadie glanced over, another soft smile playing on her lips.
“I don’t mind. I miss having a dog around.
My apartment in New York barely had room for my books, let alone a pet.
” She scratched behind Riley’s ears, earning a contented groan from the massive hound, and added, “And my schedule was impossible when I was with Nate… it wouldn’t have been fair to any pet. ”
“Nate?” Corbyn asked before he could stop himself.
A shadow flickered across her face, there and gone so quickly he almost missed it.
“My ex,” she said simply, her focus returning to Riley. “My living situation has been… in flux while I wait for my lease to end.”
Something in her tone warned against further questions, but it sparked Corbyn’s curiosity nonetheless.
Aside from the brief mention of her ex on Valentine’s Day, this was the first personal detail she’d volunteered since arriving in Great Missenden.
It felt a bit like venturing into uncharted waters, but something in him couldn’t bring himself to discourage the conversation.
“Riley came to me during a period of flux,” he heard himself saying, the words emerging before he’d fully decided to share them. “After the accident.”
Sadie looked up, her expression neutral, but her gray eyes were looking at him with interest. She didn’t speak, didn’t push, just waited. He realized she was offering space for him to continue or retreat as he chose, and there was something incredibly refreshing in that approach.
“Ellie brought him home,” Corbyn continued, his right hand moving to stroke Riley’s flank. “She said he was a rescue and needed someone with patience. I think it was the other way around.”
The corner of Sadie’s mouth lifted slightly, and she asked, “He needed you, or you needed him?”
“Both, maybe.” Corbyn’s gaze drifted to his mug of tea on the island. “I wasn’t in a good place. The surgeries kept failing to restore function to my hand, and the pressure started for the book I couldn’t seem to write…” He trailed off, surprised at how much he’d revealed.
“And Riley gave you something else to focus on,” Sadie finished softly.
“He needed food, walks, and attention. He didn’t care about deadlines or scars or whether I could type properly,” Corbyn explained, and he felt something tight in his chest ease as he spoke. “It’s hard to stay in bed feeling sorry for yourself when a giant dog is whining to go outside.”
Sadie smiled, and, to his relief, it wasn’t the pitying look he’d dreaded. There was understanding in her eyes, warm and genuine, without the uncomfortable fake sympathy that made his skin crawl.
“I get that,” she said. “Having something, or someone, who needs you can be grounding.” A brief shadow crossed her face again, and she paused, absently tracing a pattern on Riley’s fur.
“I spent years supporting my ex’s writing, Nate’s novel drafts, his submissions, his rejections.
I edited every word, managed his schedule, created space for his ‘process.’” The word carried a hint of bitterness.
“Even put my own writing on hold because he said we couldn’t both be pursuing the same dream at the same time. ”
She looked up, seeming surprised at her own candor. “Sorry, I don’t know why I mentioned that.”
“Because some burdens get lighter when shared,” Corbyn offered quietly, realizing how much this moment meant for both of them.
Sadie gave him a small, grateful smile, softly saying, “Maybe.”
They fell into silence for a moment, both of them sipping their tea. Neither of them seemed to feel the need to fill it with small talk. It occurred to him then, somehow, without his noticing, Sadie Reed had coaxed him into an almost… normal conversation.
“We should probably get to work,” she said, drawing him from his musings. “Chapter sixteen won’t fix itself.”
“No, it certainly won’t,” he agreed, and they both took their mugs as they made their way toward the study. “The revisions are helping,” he added, surprised by how easy the admission was. “The book is… tighter.”
Glancing over, he saw Sadie smile, and her whole face brightened at the acknowledgment. He felt his breath catch, and he tried desperately not to wonder what exactly that meant.
“It’s a good story, Corbyn. It deserves to be told right.”
At the door to the study, he motioned for her to lead the way, knowing if Edie saw him being anything less than a gentleman, he’d be hearing about it for the next week.
As he watched her pass, he couldn’t help but muse on this new development in their relationship.
They weren’t exactly friends, but they were certainly no longer adversaries.
They were something undefinable, and that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.