Mistletoe and Mr. Right (Moose Springs, Alaska #2) - Sarah Morgenthaler Page 0,83
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.
“Thanks, man,” Grass said. “Those sound good.”
If Grass had only seen the look that passed over Diego’s face, he would have left Rick’s couch and house and pizza bagels far behind. But Grass was too busy watching Quinn’s face instead.