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Sloane nodded, praying she was too old to blush. “I did, thanks. The charity event seemed to be a success and I haven’t danced like that since college.” Or had sex like that. Ever.
Winnie laughed. She was a thin brunette with big brown eyes. Sloane had immediately liked her when she had interviewed for the job. This morning she too was dressed in jeans and a Paws and Effect T-shirt, her hair scraped back in a ponytail. “I didn’t go to college, but I have to say I’ve never seen that many screaming women in one place in Beaver Bend in my life. I can admit to some screaming myself, but I am sticking to my story—the tequila made me do it.”
“That’s my story too.” Which was a total lie. She would have invited Rick into her place stone-cold sober. She had needed to pop the seal on divorce sex and he had been the right choice. She wasn’t sure she could stick to their “no awkwardness” pact though. She felt pretty damn awkward.
“I have a headache and I can’t get this damn coffeemaker to work. I think it’s God’s way of punishing me for objectifying men.” Winnie hit the button a few more times and nothing happened. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.” Sloane wiped her palms on the front of her jeans. She was nervous about this job. She hadn’t worked in ten years and she was equal parts excited and terrified. Which was nuts, because she had volunteered at the animal shelter twenty hours a week in Minneapolis. How was this any different?
“Can you go next door and grab us two cups of coffee from Rick? He always has a pot on.”
Sloane froze. “From Rick?” she parroted.
“Yes, at the auto body shop next door.”
That’s what she thought she’d meant. There couldn’t be two Ricks with shops in this building. Damn it. “I can go to a coffeeshop if you want. It will probably taste better.”
“Nah, that’s too much work. Plus this will be faster.”
“Okay, sure, be right back.” It wasn’t like she was nervous to see Rick. Because she wasn’t. Not much anyway. She had just assumed he would still be sleeping. But he clearly wasn’t and now she was nervous. He’d gone places on her body no other man had. He’d been all Christopher Columbus in there, exploring uncharted regions with his tongue and now she couldn’t think about it without feeling warm in all those now-mapped areas.
The front door to the auto shop was locked so she went around the side of the building to the open garage. “Hello?” she called, not wanting to startle anyone. She had no idea how many employees Rick had, if any. Maybe it was a random mechanic there, not him.
She could hear banging around and the sounds of classic rock pouring out from the back of the garage.
“Who are you?”
Sloane jumped and put her hand on her chest. She turned to see a young girl sitting on a bench in the sun reading Harry Potter. “I’m Sloane. I work at the groomer’s. What’s your name?”
“River.”
Ah, so this was Rick’s little sister. It was hard to see any sort of resemblance other than she had the same caramel colored hair as him. She was slight with narrow cheekbones and a high forehead. Her eyes were darker than Rick’s, her expression more shrewd. She was wearing denim shorts and a T-shirt that said, Books turn Muggles into Wizards.
Sloane smiled. “Nice to meet you, River. Do you know where your brother is? I need to beg him for a cup of coffee.”
River just eyed her for a long enough pause that Sloane raised her eyebrows. So the kid didn’t want to talk. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your reading. I’ll go see if I can find him.”
But River sighed and snapped her book shut. “I’ll take you to him.” She stood up. “You’re not one of his girlfriends, are you?”
The disdain in her voice made it clear of her opinion of said “girlfriends.”
“Nope,” Sloane said. “I am not his girlfriend.” She might still have the scent of him on her sheets, and his beard burn on her inner thighs, but she was not his girlfriend. “My brother is Sullivan O’Toole, so I’ve known your brother since he was your age.”
“Oh.” That seemed to appease her. She walked into the garage and glanced at Sloane over her shoulder. “I’ve never seen you at Winnie’s pet salon. Are you a new hire?”
The fact that a nine year old said “new hire” was kind of amusing. “Yes, I am. I just moved back to Beaver Bend from Minneapolis. I moved in across the hall from you.”
“Gross. Why would you move back? I can’t wait to leave here. I’m moving to Chicago for college and I’m never coming back here.”
Geez. River sounded like her at that age. “I said the same thing. But I missed my dad and my brother and my baby nephew.”
“That’s what FaceTime is for,” River said.
That made Sloane laugh. “Sounds like you have a plan.” Then her laughter died on her lips when she saw Rick. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt and he was bent over removing the chrome on the side of a motorcycle. The one she had hit the night before.
“Coffee’s over here,” River said, pointing to a table that had a coffeepot, cups, and some bottled water sitting on it.
Rick turned and spotted her. He broke into a smile. “Sloane. Hey.”
