like an ashtray, but Sam had already warned her about that, so she was prepared.
Riley had a vague memory of a small kitchen piled high with dirty dishes and a
small dining table piled high with crap before Sam led her to the sofa, his not-so-
gentle tug on her arm making his instructions clear. Sit. Quiet.
She did the first. Whether she complied on the second would depend on whether
Helena Compton behaved herself.
“I told you not to come,” Sam’s mom said, lighting up a cigarette and studying
them as she sat down in the recliner.
“It’s your birthday,” he said gruffly. “And you were just in the hospital.”
She blew out a long stream of smoke. “And yet you didn’t come to see me then.”
“You told him not to!” Riley exploded.
Sam groaned, and Helena narrowed her eyes. “Is that so? And how do you
know?”
Riley narrowed her eyes right back. She worked at a woman’s magazine. She
knew every female play in the book. “Because we were together.”
Sam’s mother gave a mean little cackle. “Of course you were.”
“What does that mean?” Riley asked, keeping her voice level.
“Riley,” Sam said, turning his head in her direction. “Leave it.”
“I won’t leave it,” she snapped back. “I’m not Skippy and one of his stolen socks.
I don’t drop what you tell me to drop. Your mother clearly wants to say something.”
“Yes, but nothing we want to hear,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, let her hear it, Sammy,” Helena said dismissively. “She’s not going to be
around much longer anyway.”
“I’ve been around since we were teens,” Riley snapped back.
“That’s right, you have. Making him work for an entire decade to get into your
pants, hmm?”
“Mom!”
Neither woman paid any attention to Sam. Riley had suspected the gloves might
come off during this encounter, but she hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.
She hadn’t even had time to insincerely compliment the woman’s shoes, or thank
her for the beverage that hadn’t been offered, but hey, if Sam’s mother wanted to
get right down to business …
“Sam didn’t get into my pants, because Sam is a gentleman,” Riley said calmly,
crossing her legs and keeping her shoulders back.
“That’s lovely,” Helena said, voice dripping with condescension. “But we both
know he was merely waiting his turn.”
“Jesus, Mother.”
Riley set a hand on Sam’s leg to quiet him, her eyes never leaving his mom’s.
“You’ve read my articles.”
“I’ve scanned the filth you write, yes,” Helena said, tapping the tip of her cigarette
into the ashtray.
Sam growled, but Riley merely smiled. She’d heard plenty of unsolicited opinions
on her work. And if she’d learned anything over these weeks with Sam, it was
that writing about sex in the general sense and making love to someone you care
about weren’t even remotely in the same category.
And anyone who tried? So not worth Riley’s time. She knew what she was. She
knew what she and Sam were. And no amount of heckling from his mother could
turn it tawdry.
“My articles have nothing to do with Sam.”
Helena snorted. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing because it keeps my son out
of your magazine, or a bad thing because he’s not worth writing about. Probably
the latter.”
Sam said nothing, but Riley felt him stiffen beside her before his chin dropped
just the smallest bit in resignation. And it was that resignation—that acceptance
that it was okay for her to talk about him that way—maybe even acceptance that
she was right about him—that set Riley off.
Her Irish temper rarely sparked, but when it did …
“Mrs. Compton—”
“Ms. I’ve learned over the years to keep my maiden name. Not that my father was
any better than any of my husbands …”
Whatever. “Ms. Compton, I know it’s none of my business, but—”
“Riley,” Sam said quietly.
She ignored him. “Actually, scratch that. It is my business, because I’m in love
with your son.”
It was as though a bomb had gone off in the room.
She couldn’t bear to look at Sam, but he’d turned into stone beside her. And
Helena’s mouth was gaping in surprise, as though Riley’s declaration of love
simply did not compute.
That, more than anything, pissed Riley off. “Yeah, that’s right. Somehow, despite
your best efforts to tear him down, he’s turned into the most wonderful man I