Page 80 of Sparking Sara

Donovan comes walking through the door, giving me an opportunity to leave, and I find myself relieved. Relieved that I don’t have to stand here and look at Sara’s face any longer. Because it hurts to look at something you know you can’t have.

Chapter Nineteen

I’ve stayed away.

For days, I’ve done my best to distance myself from Sara. More emotionally than physically, because I’m not going to leave her high and dry. But I have been reducing the amount of time I spend with her. And she knows it. Things are strained when I’m there, like she knows I want to be there but at the same time she understands why I shouldn’t be.

We still play cards. We listen to the Beach Boys. And I read books to her. Just not Baylor’s books. I’ve found Stephen King to be safer.

Neither of us has mentioned the kiss. In fact, the only person I’ve mentioned it to is Marcus Feldworth.

As soon as I left the rehab center three days ago, I tracked him down. He encouraged me to be supportive but not emotionally available. He said I should find distractions to keep my mind off her and that eventually my feelings would wane. Especially when Sara goes home, which will be soon.

I’m standing next to one of those distractions now.

“Wow,” Nora says, looking around at the suite we just walked into at Hawks Stadium. She turns to me. “You’ve been holding out on me. I didn’t realize you were so wealthy, Denver.”

I laugh at the thought. “I’m not. I’m a firefighter, Nora. I just have connections.”

“I do like a resourceful man,” she says, looking up at me through her lashes.

“Denver,” Ivy says, walking up to give me a hug. Then she turns to my date. “Nora, right? Nice to see you again.”

“And you,” Nora says.

Bass comes over to greet us. I shake his hand. “Thanks for making these arrangements,” I say.

“Of course,” he says. “Caden and Brady set the whole thing up. Their wives said they’d come up and watch the game with us.”

Nora looks all giddy. “I still can’t believe you knowactualMLB players,” she says.

“They are just regular people,” I tell her. “You should know that after meeting Sawyer last week.”

“Oh, my God!” she squeals. “I still can’t believe I met him.”

A waitress comes up to us. “Can I get you something to drink?”

I don’t answer her. Ican’tanswer her. I’m too focused on what just walked into the room. Or, more specifically, who.

Sara makes her way into the suite. She’s flanked on either side by Oliver and Donovan. But it’s not them I’m paying attention to. It’s the woman wearing the Hawks shirt I bought her. The shirt she’s starting to fill out due to all the pizzas and burgers we’ve shared. The woman who is wearing makeup that accentuates her chocolate-brown eyes and her amazing cheekbones. The woman whose eyes are as laser-focused on me as mine are on her.

The waitress clears her throat. “Sir?” she asks.

“Sorry,” I say, giving her my attention. “Just a beer. An IPA if you’ve got one.”

Nora looks at Sara and then back at me. Then she laces her arm around my elbow.

As Sara approaches, she stares at our entwined arms. Then her eyes meet mine again and she smiles.

I’ve never seen Sara wear makeup before. She doesn’t need it. She’s beautiful without it. But, wow, how it brings out her eyes.

Oliver puts a possessive arm around her before he reaches out to shake my hand. “How are you, mate? Thanks for hooking us up here.”

“It’s my pleasure,” I say. I nod at his Nighthawks shirt. “I’m glad you finally got on board.”

“Anything for my girl,” he says, planting a kiss on her temple.

Sara looks at me like she feels guilty that Oliver kissed her in front of me.

---