Sly looked thoughtful. “Maria made it seem like that, too. I know your Grace opened up to her a little—”
“About what?”
“Can’t say. And don’t even bother asking me to find out. There’s some kind of girl code, I’m told. Unless—or until—it affects the rest of Hamlet, Maria will keep her friend’s secrets.” He paused, then added, “You know, she was the one who had the idea that Grace should find a way to defend herself. When she refused to take a bat of her own, those lessons with you were what Maria came up with next.”
No wonder. He should’ve already figured that out. Then again, Maria might’ve been trying to play him—with Sly’s help, of course—but he had all but jumped at the chance to spend some time with the lovely outsider after that.
Rick picked up his latest shot glass, downed the contents, relishing the burn in the back of his throat.
“You like her?”
“Wha— yeah. ‘Course I like her.”
“Then why turn her down? For some crazy reason, she likes you, too. Maria told me. She’s into you, buddy, and you made it seem like you could care less. Ice cream, Rick. You have a woman drowning her sorrows in ice cream. Do you know how serious that is?”
“I didn’t want to take advantage,” he repeated. “So drop it, alright? It is what it is.”
And he already fucked up his chances with her. He knew it, too. Why else was he doing the same thing but with a bottle of Jameson?
“Fine. That’s how you want it? Not gonna argue with you. Besides, you could always give Natalie a chance. At least she doesn’t come with all that baggage.”
The idea of actually pursuing something with Natalie Newton unsettled his already queasy stomach. He knew age was just a number and all, but maybe not when he was already a grown man who was at least familiar with who she was when she was only a child.
He shook his head. “She’s just a kid, Sly.”
“And what about Grace Delaney? Huh? Is she a woman?”
All those shots might have been affecting him more than he first thought. Because Rick couldn’t come up with any other explanation for the vehement answer that popped out of his mouth.
“Hell, yeah. She’s my woman.”
Sly leaned back on his stool, satisfied. “Well, then. I guess you know what you’re going to do.”
Rick did. Know what? He… he really did.
Well, when he sobered up some, he did.
After taking part in one heck of a pity party the night before, Grace slept in. In fact, she was still dozing peacefully the next morning when Maria’s husky voice filled her room.
“Sweetie? You up? There’s someone at the door for you.”
Half asleep, it took her a minute to understand what came through the intercom. When she did? Boom. She was wide awake.
Grace leaped up from her bed, throwing the covers back. She jammed her thumb into the intercom button with such force, it sent a jolt up her wrist. “Maria?”
“Yes?”
Her heart was suddenly pounding, her imagination going into overdrive. What if it was Tommy? Did he find her? It had been more than a month, but Tessa and Lucas promised that no one could find her in Hamlet.
“Who’s at the door?” she gasped out. “Who is it?”
Did he find me?
A burst of static, and then Maria’s contrite tone filtered through the room. “Dio mio! I’m so sorry, Grace. I… I should’ve been more clear. It’s no outsider. You’re safe, I swear it. It’s only Ricky Hart. I can send him away if you want me to.”
She slumped against the wall, the relief that hit her so strong that she could barely stay on her tired legs. Rick. It was only Rick.
It wasn’t exactly a surprise, either. After the way they ended things last night, she figured she would hear from him sooner or later. Grace had just hoped that, by then, she’d have managed to get her emotions under control. His rejection hurt more than she wanted to dwell on. For a second there, she thought it was mutual. And when she realized that she thought wrong? She felt silly and a little mournful that she might’ve lost her friend when she tried to turn him into something more.
“No… no. It’s fine. I have to talk to him eventually, right? Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Bene.”
She purposely took her time. Part of Grace wondered if she took too long, would Rick get the hint and leave? She doubted it. Rick could be stubborn like that. She had the bruises on her ass from last week’s training session to prove it. If he thought she could do a certain move, he kept pushing and pushing her to do it. He was usually right, even if she wanted to kick him by the time she was done.
She kind of wanted to kick him now.
After throwing her sleep-mussed hair into a high ponytail that had her itching to release it only seconds later, Grace traded her pajamas for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing to show that she was trying too hard. The pajamas would have said that she couldn’t care less and, as much as she hated it, she did care. So jeans and a tee it was.
Maria nodded at her from her post on the couch in the foyer. She had a book on her lap, a finger stuck between the pages. “He’s out there waiting for you, sweetie.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.”
She let herself outside, pausing when she saw Rick looming near the corner of the porch. His back was against the railing, one of his boots up on the porch swing. He kicked it absently, sending it drifting back and forth.
She watched him for a second before calling his name.
Rick straightened the instant he realized she was there. Pulling himself to his full height, he stood up, the heavy thud of his boot hitting the wooden slats on the wraparound porch echoing in the early morning quiet.
He started for her. Within three or four steps, he stumbled. Cursing under his breath, shoving his hair out of his face, he continued to head toward her.
Wait a second—
Rick never tripped. He had much better control of his body like that, even when they were sparring and she got him down. Half the time she only got him down because he allowed her to.
That… that was stumbling.
“Are you… are you drunk?”
His smile was boyish, and also a little bit impish. “I was. I’m not sure it’s all worn off yet, but I’m sober enough for this.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know. I know. And that’s all my fault. It’s why I’m here. I’m about to change all that. Because I should’ve told you last night. I thought you didn’t mean it… I mean, why would you? I don’t have much to offer you. But what I do have? It’s yours. I want to give you everything I have, as broken and as worthless as it might be. Because I want this. I want you.”
She scowled. “You are drunk.”
“Trust me, I’m not. Georgie wouldn’t have let me leave the bar if I was, and Sly stopped me this morning to do a sobriety test. I know what I’m saying. I like you, Grace. I like you a lot. And maybe I should’ve told you this already, but I’ve liked you since you first came here. It’s why I keep on adding classes. Making them longer. Buying you fucking books. I can’t get enough of you. And I never wanted to take advantage.”
“Rick.” She didn’t know what to say. She almost wanted to pinch herself and make sure that this was really happening. “I’m a grown woman. I know what I want. You can’t take advantage of me. I’d never let you.”
“That’s right.” Pride flashed across his face. “‘Cause you’re my Tiger.”
For the first time since last night, thinking of his nickname for her didn’t hurt. Her breath caught in her throat. “Rick, I—”
He didn’t give her the chance to finish her thought. That was a good thing since Grace still didn’t know what she was about to say. Didn’t matter. The next second, Rick took her gently by the shoulders and drew her up so that they were closer in height. Years of training kicked in and Grace went up on her toes as soon as she understood what Rick’s intentions were.
She tasted the whiskey on his breath. It was warm and spicy, almost like cinnamon.
Grace loved cinnamon.
In the back of her consciousness, the tiniest part that wasn’t all consumed by Rick’s taste noticed the hum of a vehicle as it went past Ophelia. It only stuck out to her because, in the time since she’d been in Hamlet, she rarely ever saw a car go by Maria’s bed and breakfast and never this early in the morning. The hum was familiar, though. Not as loud as a vehicle, or the soft purr of the Jaguar. Phil’s golf cart?
Maybe.
Who cared?
She didn’t. For once, Grace didn’t care as Rick hefted her up in his arms, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. He only broke the kiss long enough to open Ophelia’s door and ask which way to her room.
“She’s staying in the Sunflower Room, Ricky. Take a right in the hall, it’s the second door on the left.”
Her cheeks heating up, Grace glanced around for Maria. The couch was empty; not even the book was there. Though her voice rang out from somewhere nearby, Grace didn’t see her. She tucked her face along the side of Rick’s neck as he started purposely for the hallway.
He didn’t seem too bothered by her friend’s interruption. With a grunt, he called back, “Thanks.”
The sounds of Maria’s husky laugh followed them all the way to her room.
Despite his protests, Grace put Rick right to bed. Alone. Then, because it was too tempting to lay down next to him, she curled up in her armchair and watched him.
The bed in the Sunflower Room was a queen and it usually swallowed Grace up in its luxuriously soft mattress. It amused her to see a man of Rick’s size take up more than half of the space as he sprawled out, lying on his back. She removed his boots the second he knocked out—which, as she expected, didn’t take long at all—and chuckled at how his feet nearly hung over the edge of the bed.
Maria, as ever the gracious host, served breakfast to Grace in her room, promising to keep something warm for when Rick woke up again. Which, as it turned out, was so much later that the day was creeping well on toward dinner by the time Rick began to stir.
To her amusement, he rolled over in the bed and nearly fell out when he didn’t realize that it was an unfamiliar one. He caught himself in time, flopping onto his back like a fish as she giggled from across the room. Propping his upper body up on his elbows, he searched for her, a scowl on his hard face.
She stopped giggling in an instant. The expression he wore? It all but stole her breath away.
For one terrible moment, she wondered if he knew where he was. He claimed he already slept off the worst of his bender on a small, cramped cot in the backroom of the bar. Once he was sober enough to drive, he came right to see her the next morning—but he was still tired enough to knock out for another eight hours straight.
Did he remember everything he said? The promises he made? Their kiss?
“If you keep looking at me like that,” he grumbled, “I’m gonna jump out of this bed and drag you into it. Since I need a damn shower and you don’t want to know what my mouth tastes like right now, I’m doing you a service by staying here. But it’s tempting, Grace, like waving a red flag in front of a bull.”
Okay. So maybe he did remember.
“I’m sure Maria has an extra toothbrush you can borrow,” she said, rising up from the armchair until she was standing at the foot of the bed. Biting down on her lower lip, she savored the taste of cinnamon and whiskey she imagined still lingered there. “This room has a shower, too. We can share it if you want.”
He eyed her up and down, taking in her freshly blow-dried hair, the jeans and blouse she changed into earlier after she had her own shower. “But you’re already dressed.”
“So?”
Rick groaned, leaning his head back against the pillows. “Am I still dreaming? There’s no way I’m awake. This is too good to be true.”
Grace had to agree. She’d been waiting weeks for this and now that he wasn’t fighting it? Neither was she. No one was going to accuse her of not going after something she wanted. Life was too short. Tommy could find her tomorrow.
She wanted Rick now.
“Okay. There’s no way I can pass that up. If you mean it—”
“Haven’t you learned that I always mean what I say?”
“Then let’s shower. But only if you let me take you out afterward.”
“For a drink?”
Rick closed his eyes. She could’ve sworn he turned the faintest shade of green. Her Marine might be able to hold his liquor, but the reminder of last night would take a while to fade.
“To the coffeehouse. Let me buy you dinner.”
“Dinner? Sure. But I better make sure I work up an appetite first.”
His eyes popped open. “Challenge accepted.”
16
Two hours later, with Grace leaning cozily into the embrace of Rick’s arm as he strutted around like a proud peacock, the two of them walked into the coffeehouse.
It was late enough that Gus would be serving his supper menu, though not so late that it was too dark out. Rick told her that he wanted to do more than feed her after the workout he put her through. He wanted to take her out into Hamlet himself, show her the spots that made the small town home for him.
She was looking forward to it. But, first? Food. She was starving.
Rick led her to an empty booth, nodding at some of the locals who called out a greeting. She was pleased to see that more than a few shouted hellos for her, too, and she offered a wave even if she didn’t recognize who was saying hi.
Addy bustled over to them as soon as they sat down, a menu in hand for each of them. The way she beamed let Grace know that Maria had been very busy on her radio.
“Here’s a list of my husband’s specials for the evening. Rick, here you go. And one for you, Grace. Now, can I get you two lovebirds anything to start?”
Rick choked at the term, recovering a few seconds later. “Coffee, please.”
“Me, too,” added Grace, unable to hide her grin. “And don’t forget—”
“The skim milk. I got you.”
“Thanks, Addy.”
“Don’t worry about. Enjoy yourself.”
They did. At least, she did. Rick’s color stayed up, red blotchy patches creeping up the side of his neck. He definitely didn’t like to be the center of attention. She was used to it and, honestly, she enjoyed it. Just maybe not when she was on a date.
Luckily, there was one good thing about the gossips in town having already spread the news about the two of them. From what she gathered, it seemed as if everyone thought it was a good match. Well, she found out later, not everyone. But the ones who did? They left them in peace so that the two could spend the time alone.
They ordered some of Gus’s Sunday special—meatloaf with glazed carrots and scalloped potatoes—and bowed their heads over the white DC&C coffee mugs, speaking quietly to one another about everything you could think of. Even surrounded by a good amount of people, it was cozy. It was nice.
Until a shadow fell over their table and someone interrupted them by clearing their throat.
She was unfamiliar to Grace, and that surprised her because she figured she should know a person before they could be allowed to give her such a nasty look of loathing. The girl in the HSD uniform was younger, probably about twenty, twenty-one, and she had blonde hair so pale it was nearly white that she wore in a sheet down to the middle of her back. She revealed bright, even teeth when she smiled at Rick before she side-eyed Grace and the grin turned into a grimace.
“Natalie. Hi.” Rick glanced over at Grace, making introductions. “Grace, this is Natalie Newton, one of the deputies at
the HSD.”
She figured. She already met Bev’s mother when she came to pick her up from their ballet class. Since there were two female deputies out of the four who worked under Sly, it was a safe bet that this was Natalie.
And she hated her on sight.
It seemed as if the feeling was mutual, too. With another sneer, the other woman turned so that she was facing Rick and Rick alone, purposely giving Grace her back.
“You busy?” she asked Rick sweetly. “Off duty, too?”
Grace bit her tongue. Of course, he was. The blonde was standing there in full uniform while Rick looked rugged and delicious in his t-shirt and jeans. And since she was sitting across the table from him, it was pretty damn clear that he was busy.
In her time in Hamlet, though, Grace learned not to rile up the locals. Though most of the people she came into contact with on a daily basis no longer looked at her like she was an alien, she hadn’t forgotten in the time since she’d been in town that she was an outsider. She would always be an outsider.
He gave her a curt nod. “I am.”
Natalie wrinkled her nose. “And this is how you’re spending your downtime? With her?”
“Excuse me?”
Natalie ignored Grace’s sputtered response. With a flip of her long hair, she continued to speak to Rick. “I know you’re hard up, Ricky, but come on. Catching a drink down at Thirsty’s has got to be more entertaining than this.”
Grace knew better than to rise to the blonde deputy’s bait. Didn’t make it any easier to swallow. You know, she was getting pretty good at self-defense. Maybe it was time she got to practice on someone a little closer to her size—
She started to stand.
“Grace. It’s okay. I’ll handle this.” He waited for Grace to settle back in the booth before looking up at Natalie, a noticeable frown on his face. “Deputy, you’re still on duty. Don’t make me buzz Willie to find out where you’re supposed to be patrolling. I doubt it’s the coffeehouse.”
Pale pink spots formed on the height of her cheeks. “I saw your truck outside. Maybe I was just checking in with a fellow deputy.”
I'll Never Stop (Hamlet Book 4) Page 17
