“To find their second wind,” Riley realized.
Desmond nodded.
“Not the most clever of names but I’m proud of it.”
He was back. Back to the present. Back to a smile. His story was over.
“You should be proud,” Riley said. She meant it.
Desmond finished off his sandwich and took both of their plates to the kitchen. Riley stood and stretched. She was tired, she knew that, but also there was a restlessness there. One that made the thought of going home leave a bad taste in her mouth.
Maybe it was all the adrenaline that had coursed through her earlier that night, the fear and anguish at what had happened to Marty. Maybe it was the sudden reappearance of Davies and the worry that he’d come to town for her. Maybe it was the memory of kissing Desmond, a knee-jerk reaction that was, admittedly, leaving a long-lasting impression.
Did Riley want to do it again? Now that Davies was back, heralding in every memory of the bad that had happened in the last year, was there any room left in her to want that?
Riley felt her cheeks heat and was aware of a pulse of longing below her waistline, letting her head know that her body certainly wanted to be closer to Desmond.
She spun around on her heel, worried he’d see the no doubt glaring blush against her pale skin, and walked across the hardwood floor to the living room. The house around them was a large two-story but the living area was much more cozy. A deep-cushioned couch sat opposite a flat-screen TV while a bookcase took up most of the wall between the two. Knickknacks, picture frames and other pieces of decor were dispersed among the books, making the room feel even more like a home.
Riley ran her finger across one of the shelves as she danced her gaze between the pictures.
Almost every picture Desmond was in, there was at least one sibling with him. High school and college graduations, birthdays with three kids around one cake, Declan being sworn in as sheriff, a few candids from the dance floor of what looked like two different weddings, a worn picture of Dorothy and Michael Nash smiling and hugging and a group picture of the Nash siblings and their significant others. Riley got hung up on that one a little longer than the rest. Desmond and Declan had no one by their sides.
The last picture was of just Desmond. He was on a beautiful white-and-brown-patched horse, his black Stetson perched atop his head and a wry grin across his lips.
“Winona.” Riley jumped; Desmond laughed. “Sorry, I thought you heard me,” he said, moving level with her. He motioned to the picture. “That’s my horse Winona. I think if you looked up the word wild in the dictionary there would be a picture of her there staring at you.”
Riley snorted.
“I’d bet Hartley sans a nap would be there too,” she added in. “I’ve found that a sleepy nephew is a terrifying nephew.” At that Riley checked the time on her phone. It was almost one in the morning. She’d already updated Jenna about what had happened after giving her official statement at the sheriff’s department. She’d also texted Jenna that she was headed to Desmond’s house. That text had been met with a series of large-eyes emojis and the teasing reminder to use protection.
There was no way Riley could sneak in without waking both the grumpy beast and the woman who had created him.
Riley shared a look with the man next to her.
This time it was her who was guilty of looking at his lips.
She sighed.
“How competitive are you?”
The question caught Riley completely off guard. And that was saying something considering their night.
“Excuse me?”
Desmond swept his arm toward the TV.
“Ma preaches stress-free living but when it comes to Wheel of Fortune, not only does she force me to DVR it, she challenges me to solve the puzzle before her.” His eyebrow raised, completely playful. “Want to go a round before I take you home?”
Riley didn’t think twice.
“Only if you don’t mind losing.”
* * *
DESMOND OPENED HIS EYES slowly.
Something was wrong. He wasn’t where he was supposed to be.
The world didn’t look the same as it had during the night.
He blinked, confused.
Then he saw white shiplap.
It was his ceiling. He knew because that shiplap had been a big deal to his sister and Mom. They’d seen it on a show and thought it was trendy. He’d caved and, though he’d never admit it to them, enjoyed the look.
But he couldn’t piece together why he was seeing it.
Then he saw red.
That’s when the haze of sleep lifted.
He was in the living room, on the couch, lying on his back, and he wasn’t alone.
Riley was tucked into his side, head on his shoulder and an arm and a leg draped over him. He tilted his chin down to get a better look at their situation. She wasn’t just on him; he had his arm around her too. Holding her.
In their sleep.
Desmond replayed the last waking memory he had.
They had watched an episode of Wheel of Fortune and made it a competitive affair. Riley had solved two of the four phrases and was raring to beat his two wins during the next episode. Yet, as the commercial break came on, she had quieted. By the time Pat was introducing the contestants she had nodded off against him.
Desmond had fully intended on waking her and taking her home, but looking down at her face, lax in sleep, something in him had softened. Riley had been through a lot just in the last twenty-four hours. He could let her sleep for a few minutes.
So, he’d grabbed the throw blanket next to him, put it around her and tried to guess the Thing or Place that had three Gs but no As.
Apparently, past that, things hadn’t gone according to plan.
The TV had turned itself off because of the lack of activity for, he assumed, hours and the living room was bathed in light from the front windows behind the couch.
Desmond sat still for a moment, perplexed.
Before the night of the gala he didn’t have time for distractions. After the run through the woods? He still didn’t have the time for distractions.
But now?
The distraction against him was warm and smelled like lavender.
Riley Stone had the intelligence and courage to think on her feet and act with compassion.
Desmond had had his fair share of dates and relationships before he’d come back to Overlook full-time. He’d been attracted to women of all shapes and sizes. Yet, there was something all of them had been missing. Something he couldn’t quite put into words.
Lying there, beneath the shiplap, in the sunlight, and with a mass of dark red curls against his chest, Desmond couldn’t help but think Riley Stone might just have that something he’d been looking for.
He smiled, weirdly calm about the idea, when the woman in question started to stir. Desmond froze but Riley kept moving. Her body shifted farther on top of him. He couldn’t stop a grunt at the new position.
The noise must have gotten through to her.
It was Riley’s turn to freeze in place.
For a moment no one moved.
Then the red curls shifted. Desmond met a dark, widened gaze with a hopefully impassive expression.
Riley was less quiet about their predicament.
“Oh my God.”
Desmond groaned again as Riley did her best impression of an acrobat. She tried to jump off him but went into a sort of roll. Desmond, imaging the coffee table not too far from the couch, scrambled to stop her.
In the end all their actions did was land them both on the floor.
This time it was Desmond on top. He moved his knees on either side of her body to keep his weight off and sat up on his elbows.
Riley, face as red as a cherry, stared up at him without saying a
word.
Desmond couldn’t help it.
He grinned.
Then, to his undeniable pleasure, Riley burst into laughter.
* * *
“JENNA IS NEVER going to believe me,” Riley said after she could breathe again.
Desmond grinned. His eyebrow raised so slow it was absolutely devilish. In the daylight he was less of the closed-up businessman and reminded her more of a mischievous teenager. Or maybe that was Riley putting a sneaking-around, trying-not-to-get-caught-by-their-parents vibe to their current situation.
Desmond Nash was literally on top of her.
And she’d be remiss if she didn’t acknowledge that she didn’t hate it.
“What wouldn’t she believe?” His voice didn’t help matters. The smooth baritone had become husky.
It was all Riley could do to keep her own from quavering.
“That we fell asleep on the couch watching Wheel of Fortune,” she said with another bite of laughter. “It sounds like a lie waiting to happen.”
Desmond chuckled. Riley felt it against her entire body.
“Or sounds like a pretty poor way to woo a woman.”
Riley shrugged against the rug. Her mortification at waking up on top of the cowboy had turned into fast laughter. Now that urge transformed into a smile and a tease.
“Hey, it did get me to sleep with you, didn’t it?”
Riley was pretty sure she could heat an entire hot tub with the blush scorching her body, but at the same time, she was leaning into the awkward.
Yet, her little joke didn’t seem to land. In fact, the cowboy’s expression had gone in the opposite direction of humor. His brow creased, those light blue eyes homed in and his smile vanished.
Then it was like a switch flipped.
The heat of embarrassment was gone. In its place was a different heat. One that she hadn’t felt in a long time, marriage included if she was being completely honest.
The kind of heat that made your entire body stand at attention. The kind of heat that made you acutely aware of every breath you took, how high your chest rose along with it and how your body had already made up its mind about what it wanted to do next.
When Desmond’s eyes trailed down to her lips, Riley had already been prepared for his kiss for what felt like an eternity.
Chapter Thirteen
If looking at the cowboy was a stimulating event, kissing him was nearly downright debilitating.
Riley had no room between Desmond and the floor to sigh in relief at finally being kissed by him. But she did have the space to moan against his lips as his tongue parted hers.
In the back of her head Riley couldn’t help but blanch at the fact that it was morning and she’d just woken up which meant her breath probably wasn’t the best. She wasn’t charmed out of the realization that Desmond also probably needed a stick of gum or a swig of mouthwash.
Yet, as their kiss deepened, Riley couldn’t fault a thing.
She wound her arms around his neck and held on as he maneuvered for a better position. Dropping down onto one elbow, Desmond angled his body so he was on his side and she was pressed against him. It gave her more room to move.
When he grabbed her hip, she pushed toward him.
When that hand went up the back of her shirt, she moved hers to the hem of his.
When his bare skin slid between her shoulder blades, trailing heat and a wonderful tingling sensation, she tugged the man’s shirt up to let him know that she wanted more. For both of them.
Desmond broke the kiss but only to listen to her unasked request. He performed nothing short of a miracle by unbuttoning his shirt one-handed and with speedy precision. Riley started to pull her own shirt up, ready to throw it into oblivion, when a sound that didn’t match the mood rocketed through the house around them.
It was the doorbell.
Both of them froze.
Riley took the tiniest of moments to note that Desmond wasn’t wearing an undershirt. His button up was opened to reveal the muscled body of a man who might have been strolling through the business world the last several years but was also an active, active man.
Riley was still holding on to the hope that whoever was at the front door would leave before another ring so she could learn the feel of that body when another sound dashed any and all hopes of the show continuing.
It was a laugh.
A very specific laugh.
A Jenna laugh.
“Oh my gosh, I think that’s my sister,” Riley whispered. “How did she even know where to find me? She hasn’t been here before.”
Desmond, who up until that point had been a cool cucumber, lost his chilled composure.
The doorbell rang again.
He swore.
“Ten bucks she’s with my mother.”
Riley could have medaled at how quickly she went from pressed against a good-looking man to army crawling to the hallway, out of view from the living-room windows and the front door. She didn’t know how Desmond and his opened shirt reacted—it was every man and woman for themselves in her opinion—but the moment she was out of sight, Riley popped up and started smoothing her blouse. There was no hope for her hair, and she knew that, but she ran her hand across her face like it would wipe away any evidence that she’d just woken up and also just done a whole lot of making out.
“Hey,” Desmond whispered. He moved to her side with speed and pulled her through the other entry into the kitchen. “The longer we don’t answer, the worse it’s going to be.”
Riley eyed him up and down and gave a nervous snort.
“Your buttons are messed up on your shirt,” she pointed out. “And your lips are as red as red can be.”
Desmond turned a critical eye down to his shirt. He attempted to rebutton it with a glance her way. The corner of his lips quirked up.
“Speaking of really red lips.”
Riley groaned as the doorbell was replaced by a series of knocks.
“We’re busted.” There was humor in his defeat but Riley was stubborn. She followed him to the front door, ready to try to test her twin trickery. That thought went straight into the trash the moment Desmond opened the door wide.
Jenna was indeed on the front porch and she wasn’t alone. Hartley was on her hip and a woman Riley only recognized from the media was at her side. Jenna’s eyes went wide as she took the two of them in. A smile she was losing the struggle to hide split her face. The older woman next to her was a bit more gracious with hers. It was small but definitely there.
“Hey, Ma,” Desmond greeted. “What can I do you for?”
Riley felt the flames of embarrassment kick right back up. She was pretty sure she’d done more blushing in one morning than she had in all of her years of life.
Dorothy Nash was in a set of floral-print overalls, work boots, and was sporting a tight braid draped over her shoulder. She looked like she belonged in a gardening edition of Southern Living magazine. Friendly, approachable and warm. Yet when she spoke there was nothing but a clever bite to her words.
It was instantly endearing to Riley. Even if it added to the lava-level blush.
“Well, son, a few of us have been trying to get ahold of you two and haven’t had any luck. So when this wonderful young woman and her strapping young son turned up just after nine, I thought it was a great idea to come and make sure you two were okay. Maybe just interrupt a breakfast y’all forgot to tell anyone about.” Her eyes shifted down. Riley followed them and almost died on the spot. Desmond had completely skipped a button on his shirt. “Clearly y’all just lost track of time and forgot to check in.”
“We were watching Wheel of Fortune and fell asleep,” Riley blurted out.
Jenna finally lost it.
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” she teased around her laughter.
“Jenna Mae,” Riley screeched, now one hundred percent certain she was about to melt away.
“Riley Lee,” she yelled back.
Dorothy chuckled. Desmond sighed. Riley was already moving toward the car.
“You know, I think it’s time we leave. So sorry for the—the inconvenience,” she said to Dorothy. “Honestly, it was just a little oversight. We’ll just go ahead and get out of your hair now.” Jenna could not stop laughing. Riley couldn’t wait to go home and give her a piece of her mind.
“Hey, wait!”
Both women stopped in their tracks. Desmond disappeared into the house only to reappear a few seconds later with Riley’s purse and jacket.
“Wow, it was so good you were just going to leave all of your things,” Jenna whispered at her ear. Riley swatted at her.
Desmond wasn’t smirking when he walked the distance she had managed to create between them and the front porch but he wasn’t frowning either. He seemed amused.
Which somehow made everything worse.
“Yeah, uh, I guess I might need these,” Riley said with a laugh that wasn’t helping. “Thank you. And thank you for the sandwiches.”
Desmond nodded.
“My pleasure.”
Jenna made a noise but Riley wasn’t having it. She smiled at Hartley, the only innocent one out of them, and took Jenna’s elbow.
“Ms. Stone?”
Both Riley and Jenna turned again. This time it was the Nash matriarch who had spoken. She addressed Riley as she continued.
“Tonight is our weekly family dinner. I sure would love it if you three could come.” She smiled. The skin next to her eyes crinkled. “It’s been a while since we’ve had new faces around the table.”
Riley started to cycle through a few reasons why she didn’t want to accept—mostly it was just embarrassment at being caught like a couple of guilty teens—but, once again, Jenna took action.
Identical Threat Page 11