Chapter 31
Steph
“No Matty, I’m sorry, but I expect you to be home in an hour,” I say into the phone as I pull my keys from the lock and make my way down the library’s steps to the sidewalk. It’s shortly after nine, and I’ve just locked up for the night.
“But Mom,” he whines, “the guys are all heading back to Carter’s to play video games now.”
“I’m sorry, but you know the rules. Ten o’clock curfew on a school night.” There’s silence on the line, and I pause, dropping my head back and closing my eyes. I refrain from saying anything more, allowing him his moment to sulk.
“Fiiiine,” he finally concedes, impressing me with the level of attitude he manages to infuse into that single word.
It’s a talent I’ve come to believe is latent in all teenagers, though Alex is typically the moodier of my two sons.
I resume walking, making my way quickly down the block to where my car is parked, pausing once more to retrieve my other set of keys from my purse and groaning when they’re not easily discoverable.
“Matty, I’ve gotta go now,” I say absentmindedly. “It seems I need both hands to excavate my car keys from this damn bag.”
“Alright, Mom, see you at home in a bit,” he grumbles, though it’s half-hearted, his mood already seemingly improved.
“Be safe!”
“Mm-hmm,” he says, and I can easily envision the accompanying eye roll before he hangs up.
So much for that improved mood. I sigh, then place my phone down on the hood of my car, followed by my purse, so I can get in there and dig with both hands.
It’s a frustratingly long moment before I manage to unearth those dang keys from under a pile of loose receipts at the bottom of the bag, and when I do, I raise them in triumph like I’ve just discovered the holy grail.
Then I remember I’m standing alone in the street and huff out a laugh, my breath visible in the cool night air.
Shaking my head at myself, I glance around to ensure that I am, in fact, alone, and nobody saw my goofy little performance.
Two cars and a truck are parked a little further down on the other side of the street, but they all have their lights off.
It’s late March, and winter has yet to give up its grip on our town, so it’s unsurprising that there are no other signs of life on the street this late.
Relieved, I press the remote to pop the locks and climb in, letting out a groan once I’m off my feet and settled into the seat.
It’s been a long day in a week, no—a month—of long days, and I’m bone weary.
I turn on the ignition and pull away from the curb, only vaguely aware of the sound of another engine roaring to life behind me.
I’m counting down the seconds until I can soak in the tub with a good book, followed, hopefully, by a goodnight call with Riley before I crash.
It’s not until I’m pulling into my driveway that I realize the truck I’d seen parked down the way from the mine had looked awfully familiar.
I’m retrieving a sweatshirt left behind on one of the armchairs by the front window of the library a few days later when I spot him.
Or rather, his truck. I watch as it passes slowly on the street, makes a U-turn, and then cruises by once more, before turning the corner onto Wrexham, where I can just make it out pulling to the curb, and cutting its lights.
I wait, watching to see if he’ll exit the vehicle, but after a few moments with no movement, I return to the circulation desk and toss the hoodie in the lost and found box tucked beside Piper’s chair.
I proceed with the remainder of my closing-up routine, checking that all the computers in the back are shut down and there’s nothing left on the carousel to be shelved, before circling back to the front windows.
The darkened truck is still sitting there with no sign that Riley is planning on coming inside. I’m certain it’s him, though.
Retrieving my phone from my pocket, I check the time.
Nine fifteen. As far as I know, he’s supposed to be at the bar tonight.
This isn’t the first time I’ve thought I caught a glimpse of his truck when leaving work, but I’d brushed it off since he was supposed to be at the bar those nights too.
Plus lately, I’ve been seized by a constant desire to see him, to be with him, to the point I swear he’s everywhere I look.
It had been easy enough to play it off as my mind playing tricks—or so I thought.
Hmmm.
I tap out a quick text and hit send, then squint my eyes at the darkened truck on the corner.
Steph
Busted
It’s faint, but I see the moment his cab brightens with the light from his phone and my incoming text.
Riley
…
…
I don’t know what you’re talking about
Steph
I see you parked out there, and something tells me this isn’t the first time. What are you doing?
Riley
…
Can I come in?
Steph
By all means, please do
He comes in a few moments later, his lips tipped up in a half-smile that’s part guilt at having been caught, and part smirk because he knows what that does to me, and he’s clearly trying to distract me.
“Why wasn’t this door locked?” he asks from the entry.
“Because I haven’t locked it yet.” I cross my arms. “Don’t avoid my question. Why are you here when you’re supposed to be at Aroma’s?”
His smirk drops, his face at once serious. “Not avoiding it. I’m concerned for your safety. You should always lock it up as soon as the last person leaves—”
“Ri-leeey,” I cut him off using the ‘I mean business’ voice I’ve perfected over years of dealing with wily boys.
He lets out a long sigh, frustration and concern warring on his face. Glancing away, he reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. “Okay, so … this might sound a bit stalkery…”
“Ohh, this is starting out well.”
His eyes jump to mine, and I bite my lip, trying not to smile despite the seriousness of his expression.
He closes the distance between us, his hand leaving his neck to instead cup my cheek. Frowning down at me, he murmurs, “I worry about you alone here at night. I time my breaks so I can make sure you get safely to your car when you close.”
I rear away from his touch, unable to resist scoffing at this news even while my heart squeezes in my chest. It’s undeniably sweet that he worries, but …
“I’m a grown woman who survived just fine without a nightly escort before you came along.” Even when Sam was around, he never concerned himself with how I was getting home at night.
His shoulders drop, and he sighs once more. “I know that, Sunshine. You’re a strong, independent woman, and you’ve done an amazing job handling your shit alone for a long time.” He hesitates, “But you don’t have to anymore. I should have been here all along, and I want to be now.”
I bite my lip again, and this time I let a small smile creep across my face before I nod.
“This is going to make me sound so pathetic,” I forewarn him, “but I’m just not used to anyone caring about my whereabouts like that.
I mean, beyond the boys wondering when I’ll be home because they’re hungry or need a ride somewhere or …
” I trail off when he wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his firm chest.
“Not pathetic, baby,” he kisses the top of my head, then speaks into my hair, “but not right either. You should’ve never been made to feel like nobody cared. I care, and I’m here now.”
I nod once more against him, my heart skipping a beat at his words.
“So you’re not mad at me?”
I suck in a deep lungful of his soothing scent before pulling back to meet his eyes.
“No.”
“You don’t think it’s creepy that I’ve been watching you?”
“Maybe a little,” I grin, then narrow my eyes at him as a thought occurs to me. “How long have you been doing it?”
His eyes widen, but he shrugs in an attempt at nonchalance. The color rising to his face gives him away, though, and while I should probably be annoyed he’s obviously been watching me for months, a small part of me—okay fine, a fairly large part—can’t help but find it sweet. Endearing, even.
“A while,” he finally answers.
“A while,” I repeat, making a point of eyeing him suspiciously.
“You said you weren’t mad, remember? I swear I only did it because I was worried, and I didn’t say anything at first because you weren’t speaking to me at the time, and …
then you were, and I felt like I should tell you, but I didn't know how to bring it up …” he trails off nervously before adding, “Piper thought it was okay.”
“Piper?!”
Oh, that sneaky little—
She’ll be hearing about this.
“Shit,” he whispers to himself. “Didn’t mean to throw her under the bus.
” He swallows thickly. “You can’t be mad at her either, Steph, please.
I kinda … asked her for your schedule. And she was resistant at first, but once she understood it was all about your safety and that I’m not a stalker—I swear I’m not—well, she …
gave in.” He offers me a contrite smile.
And, I giggle. Fuck me, but I giggle.
It’s all I can do.
I’ve never seen this man so unsure of himself. Since he’s returned, I’ve seen Riley annoyingly determined, confidently arrogant, desperately heartbroken, and just plain furious with me. I’ve seen his heated gaze and his soft one, but this? This is totally new.
His eyes are wide and confused as he watches me double over with my laughter. I’ll admit it’s a little bit of an overreaction, but I’m overwhelmed with my feelings at the moment.
He’s been leaving work for months just to watch me walk to my car.
Because he worries.
Because he cares.
And I love that. I love him. Again. Or, I never stopped, and I’m just no longer denying it.
Probably that second one.
The thought sobers me, and I straighten up as the laughter fades, but still, I meet his eyes with a smile.
Riley still looks a little confused, but his lips tip up hopefully at my expression.
“I like this groveling thing you’ve got going on,” I tease.
“Oh yeah?”