Page 7 of A Deceitful Pact

It’s pathetic, and it’s desperate, but it’s been scratching away at me ever since she came to town.

RILEY

Isit with a glass of wine, reading through the profiles that are scattered on my coffee table. Sure, this isn’t the traditional way to pick out who the father of your child will be, but I like how it feels to be in control.

DONOR 3456

Blond hair

Blue eyes

I’ll bet they aren’t as blue as Sawyer’s are…My mind wanders, and I quickly take another sip of wine. Now is not the time to be thinking about him.

Height 5ft 10 inches

Athletic build

Enjoys diving, has a degree in chemistry, and once climbed Kilimanjaro to raise money for a children's hospital.

I place donor 3456 on the consideration pile, and just as I’m about to judge a new donor, a loud bang thuds at my door.

“Hale, let me in.” I recognise Sawyer’s voice and it immediately makes my stomach flip.

“Shit.” I look at all the fertility clinic’s paperwork that’s laid out on my coffee table and attempt to gather it all together. Then I wonder why I’m so worried. There is no way I’m letting Sawyer Anderson into my home. Not tonight, or ever. Not only is he a temptation, but he’s dangerous.

“Hale…I know you're in there, and I will break through this door. We need to talk.” He sounds angry, and I have no idea why he seems to be directing that anger towards me. Since I came to town, I’ve made a point of staying out of his way, questioning him and Jace over what happened to Devon Laney earlier was just me doing my job, and that's something he’s going to have to get used to.

“Alright, I’m coming.” I rush to the door and open it just enough to see him through the crack. “What can I do for you?” I smile sarcastically.

“What can yo– are you fuckin’ with me?” Sawyer forces the door open, barging past me so he can pace my living room floor.

“Why would I want to fuck with you, Mr. Anderson?” I remain calm and professional as I watch him grip his hair in his hands in frustration.

“There ya go again, with the Mr. Anderson bullshit. Actin’ all like we ain’t familiar with each other. You remember that night, right?” He looks at me with wild, desperate eyes. The blues in them seem darker tonight, and they’re swirling like a storm

“Yes, I remember.” I stare back at him blankly, trying to hide the wayrememberingfeels.

“You remember how we…you and me?” He points his finger between us while he catches his breath, and I can see that he’s really worked himself up over this.

“Yes.” I nod. “Sawyer, are you okay?” I check.

“No. It’s been five weeks and two days since you showed up here, and not once have you mentioned…that night,” he whispers, scrubbing his hand over his face and growling.

“What’s there to mention? We met in a bar and we fucked. I’m sure I’m not the only girl to have fallen for your charm.” I shake my head and laugh while he stares back at me like I’ve hurt him.

“I just…I thought…” He’s all out of words, and I can see now that he’s far more frustrated with himself than he is with me.

“What do you want, Sawyer, some kind of performance score? Tips for further improvement?”

“You think I need improvement?” His eyebrows rise in horror, and I roll my eyes impatiently. This guy clearly isn’t used to rejection. You’d think after three years, he’d be over it.

“If this is about me leaving without saying goodbye, I?—”

“It ain’t about that. It’s just…” Sawyer looks tired and disappointed with himself. “What are you doing here, Riley?” he asks weakly, and I suddenly realize it’s the first time he’s used my name. It sounds so normal and familiar, I have to really pretend not to like it.

“I’m here to do my job, this town needed a sheri–”

“A sheriff, not an FBI agent,” he interrupts me. “I need to know what you’re really here for.”

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