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Oh, shit. Hell fucking no. Rick glanced around, making sure no one else was witnessing this. Had he done that? Made her cry? “Come here. What’s going on?” Rick reached out and pulled Sloane into his arms.
She went willingly, draping herself over his chest and winding her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry,” she said. “These are angry tears. Not at you.”
“Good to know. Then what’s wrong?”
“I’m just pissed that Kendra died. Like, I’m furious. Sullivan is a mess and I feel helpless and I hate feeling helpless.”
His heart clenched. Everyone had liked Kendra. She had been a ray of sunshine. “You’re right, it’s not fair.” Rick ran his hand over her back, attempting to soothe her.
“It’s my birthday,” she said. “I’m thirty years old today and I feel like I wasted the last decade of my life. I was so determined to leave this town and for what? I could have been here with family. Instead of chasing the idea of having a family with someone who didn’t want it.”
There it was. The secondary reason behind the tears. “Whoa, hold up. Don’t feel guilty for making a life for yourself. You were entitled to leave if you wanted to.”
“I made a stupid life, that’s the problem. I was so damn arrogant. Ugh. I didn’t know anything.”
“That is the paradox of youth. We think we know everything and we don’t know jack shit.” Rick tried to focus on how she was feeling and not the fact that she felt amazing in his arms. Which she did. “Happy Birthday, Sloane. Maybe this next year will be better for you.”
She pulled back and sniffled. Sloane had rich, expressive eyes, the color of deep murky water. The tears were still clinging to her long lashes, but she had stopped crying. “It will be. I know it will be. I’m here with my family and that’s what matters.”
“Exactly. Screw marriage.” He meant it as a joke, but the minute he said it he realized it was probably in poor taste. Why did he
keep sticking his fucking foot in his mouth with her?
She frowned at him and stepped back, out of his arms. “What do you know about marriage?”
“Nothing. Not a goddamn thing.” With good reason. His parents’ marriage had been a full-blown disaster. As had his father’s second marriage. And his third.
She wiped her cheeks. “This is weird. I haven’t seen you in ten years and I just cried all over you while you’re in your underwear.”
Sloane reached out and tried to dry off his chest. Her hands were lithe and warm. There weren’t actually any tears on him, or if there were they had evaporated. But he let her touch him because it felt good to have her hands on his flesh. “Don’t think of this as underwear, but more like performance gear.”
She let out a laugh. “Thinking of switching careers?”
“Not a snowball’s chance in hell. But I am enjoying myself, I’m not going to lie.” He gave her a grin. “Come back inside with me. You can sit right up front.”
He laced his fingers through hers and stepped back, tugging her with him.
“I don’t know.” She dragged her heels. “Maybe I should just go home.”
“It’s your birthday. You need to celebrate.” Rick was very aware, as they all were, that they were just a few days past the anniversary of Kendra’s passing. He hadn’t realized before today Sloane had lost her sister-in-law so close to her birthday. Plus, clearly she had some feelings about the end of her marriage. So, while he really wanted his high school fantasy of Sloane naked in his bed to come to life, it was pretty damn obvious Sloane needed a friend tonight more than she needed to satisfy his teen desire to bang a cheerleader.
Not to mention Sullivan probably would kill him. Or attempt to, anyway.
Besides, she was back home and she was living over his shop. He had all the time in the world to get to know Sloane again. A friendship with her was appealing. A naked, dirty friendship in which he made her feel helpless for all the right reasons.
No. He wasn’t going to do it. He owed Sullivan his loyalty.
Unless Sloane made the first move. Then he wasn’t sure he could stop himself.
“I don’t know…” she repeated. She was still biting her lip and dragging her feet. She blew out a mighty sigh. “I don’t feel like I would be a good time.”
“You look like a good time.” He grinned at her.
She rolled her eyes at him. “When did you become such a big flirt?”
“It was always there, just hidden under a layer of baby fat.” There was no way he was letting her go home alone on her thirtieth birthday. “It’s either come inside with me now or agree to hang out with me another day.” He was confident she would either chose to go inside or argue with him, and neither was a bad option. He wanted to spark her anger, rouse a little fight in her.
It worked.
