given me. “How bad?” I have to ask. “Kind of a fan of bad ideas.”
She smiles and shakes her head.
And then we’re interrupted. Because of course we are.
“Daphne,” her sister May says, leaning down to address us in our private little hideout. “Can I see you a moment?”
Daphne actually looks put out by this request, so at least I’m making a little headway.
It’s something. I’ll take it.
Seven
Daphne
For a hot second, my temper flares. The sad truth is that I'm enjoying Rickie's attention. It's a good thing I'm not drinking tonight, so I don't do anything stupid. My sister's interruption is probably well timed.
And when I look up at May, I feel the usual flare of guilt. I haven’t been a good sister. “It's no problem,” I say, scrambling to my feet. "What do you need?"
"Well, it's almost time to cut the cake. But first I need to show you something.”
"Sure. Anything." I cast a quick glance back at Rickie. He gives me a slow nod and then a wink. He looks exceedingly good tonight in a crisp, pink-and-white checked shirt which is open exactly one button further than is polite, giving me an enticing preview of those tattoos I like so much.
Until this very moment I had no idea that a man could make pink-and-white gingham sexy. But here we are. Rickie is a study in contrasts. I never know what he's going to wear or say or do. He drives me crazy. I know I ought to resist the pull. But he does not make it easy.
And now that I know his weird secret, he's even more irresistible. It humanizes him. Maybe I have a vulnerability kink. Although that doesn’t explain how I fell for Reardon Halsey’s charms last year. He's about as vulnerable as a rattlesnake.
May is shooting me sideways glances as I follow her to a corner of the deck. "Okay, I feel bad interrupting. Are you going to jump on that later?"
"May!"
"Oh please don't sound so shocked. Like the idea never occurred to you? He's smokin’.”
I make a noise of irritation. "He knows it though." And this is the weirdest conversation. May and I aren't close. We never dish about guys.
"He's not creepy, is he?" She gives me a look of alarm as she pulls out her phone.
"No, he's not," I admit. "He's flirty, that's for sure. Really flirty. But..." It's hard to explain Rickie's unusual appeal. Every sexy word that comes out of his mouth is infused with humor. Like he's teasing himself at the same time he's teasing me. As if he doesn’t mind sounding a little ridiculous if he makes his point.
I feel drawn to him, even though I don’t want to admit it. He seems different than other guys.
But, ugh, he's probably not. And it's just my usual stupid crush getting in the way of seeing the world the way it really is. "He's not creepy,” I repeat. “He's fine. And also fiiiine. Good eye candy in the upstairs hallway this summer.”
“Keep me posted," she says, opening up a photo on her phone. “I wanted to show you this project I started. Now let’s see…”
I wait patiently, even though I’m not very interested in all the home decorating projects she’s taken on lately. My sister’s life is coming together in every possible way. Her boyfriend loves her. They own several businesses between them—the bar, May's small law practice, and Alec's growing brewery operation for nonalcoholic beers, which May inspired him to start.
She used to be the fuckup that everyone worried about. Her life was a mess. But now she’s super happy and accomplishing all her goals.
Meanwhile, my life is imploding. Not that I’d tell her about it because we are not close. That’s also my fault. When she was at her lowest, I betrayed her and embarrassed her.
These days we tiptoe around each other. May tolerates me. And I should probably be more grateful.
“Here it is! See? I’m stripping and refinishing this piece of furniture. Look.”
I squint at the screen. “Is that…grandma’s old desk?”
“Yup! Doesn’t the bare wood look great?”
“Wow.” I take the phone and zoom in on the photo. My grandmother liked to sew, and she kept her machine on a beat-up old desk that had been painted an odd shade of gray-blue. But that’s gone now. “Nice work. It’s so pretty.”
“I thought so too. Do you want it?”
“Want what?”
May looks to the heavens. “Want the desk. You’re moving to Burlington, and you might need one. Griffin and Audrey were moving