Just One Night(25)
like … whisky?”
He looked around the enormous space. “It does smell. But I love it. And sure, I
guess I get a little restless sometimes. But it doesn’t feel like work when you love
it, you know?”
“I guess.”
He drained the rest of his cocktail and began the process of mixing another one.
“You don’t feel that way about Stiletto? And you’re not exactly one to talk about
work/life separation. You get paid to write about your life.”
She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect opening. Actually, funny you mention
that … I may have kind of sort of been fudging my credibility on that front …
But she couldn’t. Not yet. “Can I have another?” she asked, even though her first
drink was still half full. A little more liquid courage couldn’t hurt.
“How come you never talk about your whisky?” she asked.
Sam didn’t answer for several seconds. “I’ll tell you what … I’ll answer that, if you
tell me what you’re doing here. And don’t BS me about just wanting to chat and
be all buddy-buddy. Despite your claims the other night, I do know you. And I
know when you want something.”
Sure. But do you know when I want someone?
“You first,” she said, taking a large swallow of her drink and pushing it toward him
for a refill.
“Well,” he said, giving the shaker one last rattle before straining it over her glass.
“I guess you could say that it’s too important.”
“Not following.”
“ROON’s everything to me. It’s my savings, my livelihood, my passion. But the
McKennas are everything to me too. You were my family when mine was crappy,
and you’re even more my family now that mine’s mostly out of the picture.”
Riley resisted the urge to put her hand over his. Sam was an only child, raised by
the most indifferent mother on the planet. Riley had only met Helena Compton
once or twice, and although she’d passed along good looks to her son, she hadn’t
been a mom. Not in the ways that mattered.
“I don’t get it,” she said softly. “Because both are important to you, they can’t
overlap?”
“Let’s just say that my whisky’s my baby and your parents are my parents. I don’t
think I can bear Erin and Josh not liking their grandchild.”
He gave her a boyish grin, but Riley heard the truth behind his casual tone. He
was scared to death of disappointing the McKennas.
“But you’re letting me drink it.”
“Only because you batter-rammed your way into my home and I wanted—
needed—a drink to deal with you.”
“Why do you think that is?”
His eyes locked on hers. She hadn’t meant for her voice to come out so husky,
but her coy question sounded very much like a dangerous proposition.
“Because you’re dangerous to me,” he replied very simply. “Particularly when I
don’t know what you’re after, and I confess—I’m completely stumped right now.
It’s Friday night. Shouldn’t you be at some swanky hot spot with some suit in the
city?”
She reached across the bar and helped herself to the cherry in his drink. “Maybe
I’m in the mood for a casual home bar with a jeans-and-T-shirt guy in Brooklyn.”
Sam grabbed her wrist and her gaze flew to his, startled by his intense
expression.
“Don’t,” he said sharply. “Do not play that game. Not with me.”
It’s not a game.
She tugged her hand back, and he released her arm but not her eyes. Riley took
a deep breath. It was time.
“I said I was here because I needed a favor …”
His expression never changed. “Anything.”
Her heart flipped a little at that. “It’s um … a little more personal than my usual
favors. This isn’t a ride home, or a lesson on the difference between screwdrivers,
or help moving furniture.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “How personal?”
Riley licked her lips. “Kind of as personal as you can get.”
He warily came around the bar, settling on one of the barrels next to her, although
keeping a safe distance between them. “Why don’t you start at the beginning.”
And then Riley was telling him everything. Well, not everything. Just the part
about Stiletto’s anniversary issue, and how she was supposed to tell the truth
behind the story. How she was supposed to write about something personal.
He nodded slightly when she was done. “Okay, I get it. They want all of the writers
to give a more personal account for this issue. But I’m not getting what that has