How many fights had they had over “one more kitten” or “it’s just a fainting goat”? And here Rick was again, caught between wanting to make the woman in his life happy and not wanting to be a schmuck.
Maybe the expression on his face gave him away, because Lana touched his stubbly cheek with slender fingertips.
“You don’t have to look so worried, Rick. I promise this isn’t me pushing him on you. I’m planning on taking him to the Lockett place tomorrow. Or Graham might want a friend for Jake.” Lana adjusted the kitten in her arms. “I wish I could keep him with me, but traveling all over the place is no life for a kitten. What if it’s too cold or too hot, or there’s some sort of kitty disease that no one had discovered?”
“You love animals.” Rick deeply enjoyed how happy holding Peyton seemed to make her. Even if he really didn’t want the kitten himself.
“I do. I never had a pet growing up. We were encouraged to think of the horses as working partners instead of pets. Everyone had their jobs to do, even if that was to jump an oxer. You wouldn’t believe how many deals Killian has brokered covered in horse sweat and bits of mud.”
“Polo Killian?”
“Yes, race car Killian is half-useless on anything with four legs,” she joked. “Do try to keep up.”
Keeping up with her was almost impossible, but damn if he didn’t love trying. Careful not to squish the kitten, Rick threaded a hand through her hair.
“It feels different.” His fingers slid through the dark strands, softer and slicker than the last time they had been together.
“I got a Brazilian blowout.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
Lana had Peyton in her arms, so she was unable to touch her hair self-consciously, but her hand started the motion. “Just a smoothing treatment. No ponytails for the next few days.”
“You wouldn’t be caught dead in a ponytail,” Rick said teasingly. “Not in polite company.”
She laughed. “You are keeping up, aren’t you?”
He didn’t need to close the distance between them because Lana had already done so. Her lips were soft against his, those silky strands falling over his face.
“Want to meet the other woman in my life?” he asked, earning himself one sculpted eyebrow lifting. “Be warned. Darla’s the jealous type.”
“Your hedgehog.” Lana’s eyes brightened in instant pleasure. “Yes, of course. I can’t believe I haven’t said hello yet. My manners are slipping.”
They tucked Peyton back in his carrier before Rick led her to the study, turning on the lights so Lana could see better. Would she notice the handcrafted hedgehog furniture? Or the tiny Christmas tree? He kind of hoped she’d notice the tree. Rick had spent an embarrassingly long time gluing miniature presents beneath it, arranged just right.
“Oh, she’s perfect.”
“This is Darla,” Rick told her, opening the cage and handing Lana the little ball of quills. True to form, Darla wiggled her tiny snout, staring up at her with soulful eyes. “She likes her belly rubbed.”
“Don’t we all,” Lana cooed. “Hello, Darla. Oh, you are precious, aren’t you?”
“She’s my ex-wife’s.” Why? Why did he say that? Other than the truth. “She got Darla right before she left. Jen liked animals.”
“Did that stop?”
“No, but she couldn’t take them all with her.” Rick winced at his own statement. “We had a dog, Sam. Roger would have done better in a smaller apartment than the dog, but I think she was scared to live alone. Sam made her feel safer.”
“What makes you feel safe?” There was a softness in her tone that made Rick wonder if maybe she understood him a little better than he realized.
“A roof over my head,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. Deciding to be honest, Rick added, “A job that pays the bills and having people I care about close to me. I’m a pretty simple guy.”
“Not simple, Rick. Steady. Strong. Dependable. Those things aren’t simple at all. In fact, they’re complex and absolutely rare in this world.”
The compliment, given in a quiet voice as Lana cuddled his hedgehog, made Rick’s whole world tilt on its axis. It had been a long time since he felt good about himself as opposed to simply accepting of who he was. But Lana had this way of building him up without even trying.
As if he needed a reason to become even more infatuated with her.
“I promised you dinner,” he said in her ear, unable to verbalize how much her kindness meant to him.
“Mmm. I’ll take you up on that. Darla, it was lovely to meet you. Your tree is beautiful.”
Dinner was on top of the stove, the covered pot set on low to warm it. Lana peeked her nose in.
“You made stroganoff.” Lana looked delighted.
Rick gave her a little squeeze. “I won’t tell you what the meat is if you don’t ask.”
“Oh, I already know it’s squirrel. All our meals together are destined to be squirrel.”
They ate at the table, a rarity for Rick, playing with Peyton in between bites. Roger stared at the intruder from the farthest chair until Lana managed to coax him into grudgingly meeting the little furball. With a grunt of annoyance, Roger rolled over on his back, staring at the kitten from upside down.
“That might be the best you’re going to get from him,” Rick said.
“Well, it’s Roger’s home. He’ll feel better when we’re gone.”
Rick chuckled. “Roger will never forgive or forget the intrusion. Which is the part I like the most. Peyton will be a good distraction for him when I’m at work.”
Her features lit up with pleasure. “You want the kitten?”
A some point in the middle of his plate of stroganoff, Rick had already started figuring out how to accommodate Peyton into his life. A bigger litter pan for starters. Some actual cute little cat toys, because Roger’s taste in toys trended toward the extreme.
In response, Rick simply shrugged. “Cat needs a home. I’ve got one to share. It’s not a big deal.”
Lana was quiet for a moment before she reached out, touching his arm. “Rick? You know you can say no, right? You don’t have to fix this for me. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would give him a home too. You don’t have to do everything for everyone. What you want…or don’t want…matters.”
Rick hesitated. Too many years of a tough marriage had wired him this way. So Rick stabbed a piece of beef onto his fork, put it in his mouth, and chewed while he thought about what he wanted. Not what he had to do but what he—Rick Harding—actually wanted.
“You’re probably leaving after New Year’s,” he finally said.
Lana nodded, eyes downcast. “Yes. I have some accounts in Europe I need to check in on.”
“Then it might be nice to have something to remember you by. Something that annoys Roger. Feels like a win-win.”
The sweetest smile spread on her face, and the look she gave him made Rick take a drink of water to wet his instantly dried mouth. Yep, that was a good look. That was a “maybe he should have double-checked his current deodorant situation” kind of look.
“So…” Lana said, her voice a low purr. Damn, how did she manage to give him chills just from breaking off a piece of bread with her fingertips? “I have a proposition for you.”
Yes. Done. Absolutely. If it involved whipped cream, even better.
Yeah, his sex drive—only last week drawing in tiny squeaky gasps of breath—had risen full force. Another bite of bread from her fingertips, and he was officially out of his mind, he wanted her so badly. Thank goodness she hadn’t brought over a camel or some shit. Who knew what he’d agree to adopt at this point?
“Would you like to watch a movie?” she asked.
“What kind of movie?”
“The boring kind that no one actually pays attention to.”
Yes. Absolutely.
Abruptly, the door opened, with three twentysomethings piling into the house, headed straight for the couch. A cheerful hello from Quinn and Grass, followed by a grunt from Diego, was the final nail in the coffin.
So close. He’d been so close.
“Our date just got crashed,” Rick told her, shaking his head. “Sorry about that. I can’t kick the kid off the couch. It’s his safe space.”
“I don’t mind.” Lana lowered her voice to not be heard in the next room over. “How is he? I haven’t seen him since the day he was in jail.”
“Frustrated. He’s going to help me out at the pool hall until he finds work. Hannah won’t hire him back while Bayard is still staying at the resort. I talked to Jax, but his hands are tied.”
“I’ll see if there’s anything I can do to grease the wheels.” Lana aimed a sympathetic glance toward the living room, where the three had turned on a movie. “He was protecting her. I hate that he’s being punished for it.”
Yeah. Rick hated it too.
In the living room, Diego had turned on a movie. On one side of the couch was a young man the same age as Diego, nice-looking and well-dressed. Grass always seemed put together. On the other side was Rick’s rumpled housemate, surly glare ramped up about ten notches. Between them, the reason for that glare was perched with her legs crossed beneath her.
When everyone knew everyone in a small town, it was impossible to miss the girl with the largest eyes ever. And when Quinn turned those eyes Diego’s way, Rick could see the reaction she had on him. With every single part of him, Diego was clearly trying to pretend he wasn’t head over heels in love with the girl.
A grunted, “Want some pizza bagels?” was Diego’s version of an epic 80s power ballad.
“Yes.” She thumped Diego’s arm with excitement. “Oh my gosh, I love those.” Quinn immediately started chattering about how much she loved them and why she loved them and how she could eat all of them. And the kid listened to her too, every single word, before rolling to his feet.