Risky Play (Red Card #1)(31)

They were looking at each other.

I sighed and kept flipping through his memories, through his personal life, like I had a right to.

Alfie got up from his spot in the middle of the room and started barking toward the door.

I quickly slammed the album shut and then put it back in the box. I didn’t want to take any chances that he’d get pissed again. And I still had three weeks with him before I promised my dad I’d be back.

My stomach clenched.

I wasn’t ready.

Clearly I wasn’t ready if I preferred the company of a man who slept with me then treated me like shit over and over again.

Only to apologize with flowers.

At least he said sorry.

That was twice now.

I yawned and slowly made my way down the stairs, sniffing the air. What was that smell? Thai food? Chinese?

I rounded the corner and stopped in the kitchen.

Slade had grabbed two wineglasses and was pouring the exact bottle of wine I would have picked out from my family’s winery.

“Hope you like fried pork,” he said without looking up.

“Roses, wine, and now you’re feeding me?” I made my way farther into the kitchen. “If this is another plan to wine and dine me until I’m so happy I sign that damn paper, I’m going to have to give you a hard pass.”

He set the wine down and braced his body against the counter. “I’m not going to ask you to sign the paper again.”

I exhaled.

“I’m hoping you’ll come to your senses and do it on your own, with or without the wine, and if you don’t . . . well, I guess that’s a risk I’m going to have to take.” He handed me a glass.

I swirled it around and sniffed it.

I was just about to take a sip when he said, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you working here? For me? It makes no sense. You don’t even need to work. According to Matt you’re worth more than two of my rotting corpse. It doesn’t make sense.”

My gut clenched further as I twisted the wine stem between my fingers. “Probably for the same reason you’re in Seattle and not the UK.”

He frowned. “Your fiancé cheated on you and got knocked up too? Huh, small world.” He gulped the wine like a savage.

I glared. “Sip slower. And no, Alton didn’t get knocked up. You have to have sex to get to the baby part, and he wanted to respect me and my father—his boss.” I took a long sip, savoring the lingering flavor. “He did, however, leave me at the altar. In my wedding dress. And now he has a Joanna. Oh, and did I mention I grew up with him? Was practically groomed for him? Yeah.” I sipped some more. “So going back to my job, doing something I love—well, it takes the fun out of it when you have to stare at the guy who didn’t have the balls to at least say something before I was forced to walk down the aisle in front of seven hundred people, not including the live media and US Weekly.”

He cringed. “He’s a fucker. You know that, right?”

“Cheers.” I raised my glass. “You two have something in common.”

“I deserved that,” he muttered as his eyes flashed with guilt. “It’s just . . .” His face twisted with pain. He drank more of his wine, then chugged the rest of it and exhaled. Monster. “That night, when you and I were together . . . my dad called. I’d been ignoring my messages, I was . . .” He swallowed slowly. “Busy.” He looked away. “He called to apologize for being upset over my move to Seattle . . . he died three hours later. Heart attack.” His voice lowered. “I never got to tell him I loved him. I never got to hear his laugh again. He was my best friend. My hero.”

My throat clogged up as my legs took me around the island and into his arms. I pulled him in for a hug.

His body sagged against mine.

We hugged in his kitchen for a solid three minutes—at the very least.

When I pulled away, I whispered, “You’re still a jackass.”

He laughed.

It sounded beautiful.

His smile was there and then it vanished as quickly as it came.

I thought he was angry again, and then he was serious as he cupped my chin with his hands.

He was barely touching me, and my body hummed to life.

I stepped away.

I had to.

I didn’t trust him.

I couldn’t.

“So.” I shrugged. “You have one box left—”

“Why did you pull away?”

“Because I don’t know you,” I said. “Not this version at least. And even if I did, I don’t trust either version of you. Sorry.”

He nodded slowly. “Friends, then?”

“Wow, two offers of friendship in such a short time. I must look desperate.”

“Between the two of us, I don’t think anyone would peg you as the desperate one.” He grabbed the bag of takeout and jerked his head toward the living room. “Let’s go eat while you make your decision.”

“My decision?” I followed after him.

“Yeah, if I’m good enough to be in your inner circle.”

“You’re not.”

“Yeah, the minute I said good enough I regretted it.” He smirked.

It made me smile, and then we were both smiling at each other like idiots.