Sugar Daddies (42 page)

I leaned back on the gate, looked at him, at the way the sun turned his hair chestnut, the deep brown of his eyes. He was so beautiful. “What’s the deal with you, Rick? You know all about Carl’s dreams, his shitty upbringing, mine, too. What’s your story?”

He shrugged, stared out at Samson. “Like I said, I’ve been lucky. My story is a good one.” He smiled. “Had a wild stint at university though, smoked a bit too much weed and spent all my money on slot machines.” He brought his finger to his lips. “Shh, don’t tell anyone, I’m a good boy now.” He smirked. “Seriously, my lot is a good one. Dicked about with a load of randoms, had a lot of sex and it was fun, but not fulfilling. Made it in graphic design, which is all I really wanted, to be creative.” He stepped up onto the gate, leaned over. “I have my faults. I waste way too much time. Carl’s a doer, I’m a procrastinator. I get addicted to things so easily, weird food, stupid games, getting inked. Everything. But I can live with that.” He laughed. “I’m really not that exciting or that special. I’m just a guy who tries to look on the sunny side, appreciates what he has.”

But he
was
exciting. He excited me.
Everything
about Rick excited me.

“I think you’re pretty damn special,” I said. “Pretty damn exciting, too.”

It took him aback, I could see it in his eyes. “Wow. You do? That’s sweet.”

“I do.”

He grinned. “That’s mighty fucking cool. Thanks.”

I stepped up on the gate beside him, kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Rick. Thanks for coming. I was feeling shitty, you brightened my day.”

“I’d be feeling shitty too if all this was being taken away from me.” He sighed. “It’s fucking ace here, I can see why you fell in love with it.” He stepped down. “Sure you’re not tempted? Take Carl up on his offer, live the dream?”

I shook my head. “I wish I could. I’d love it if this place was mine, more than anything.” I met his eyes. “But it’s not mine, and it isn’t going to be mine. I’ll just have to accept it, move on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s fighting talk. I think you’re a tough little cookie, pretty lady.”

I laughed. “Not really. I still feel like my dream’s been wrenched from my heart, chewed up and spat out at my feet. But I’m feeling inspired.” I looked at my furry boy in the field. “I mean, if Carl can go through all that, lose all those dreams, and still come out the other side, I can take this little knockback on the chin, right?”

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, kissed my head, pulled me close. “Carl’s a mystery to me, some kind of superhuman. But if anyone else can do it, take a setback and turn it into fuel to do better, I think it’s gonna be you. You’ve got fire, little miss horsey. Fire and passion and sunshine sparkles. Don’t ever lose that.”

“Don’t ever let me lose it,” I said.

“I’ll try my best.”

We walked back through the school, up past the stable block where Rick hung up Samson’s head collar like he’d been doing it a hundred years, and it felt so good to be at his side. It felt perfect.

If only I could be that person, the person they needed. The person they wanted so badly.

I hovered beside Rick’s car. Wondering where this left us, wondering where any of this would lead. Wondering where I even wanted this to lead.

“So,” he said. “Where to now, pretty lady? Need a lift?” He opened the passenger door in invitation. “I can put the roof down, travel in style. Wherever you want to go.”

I slipped into the seat, and the answer became obvious. So obvious.

“Home, please,” I said. “Yours.”

He reached over and took my hand, pressed it to his lips and kissed me, kissed my knuckles, every single one. And he smiled. He smiled and it lit up the world.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

He lightened the mood on the way back to Cheltenham, tuned into a cheesy radio station and sang along. He put the roof down, and it felt amazing, the wind catching my hair as we picked up speed. I loved the way his fingers drummed to the beat on the steering wheel, the way he danced in his seat so easily, so freely. Even though we were exposed — on show to every passing motorist without the privacy of the car roof — Rick had no reservations, no sense of self-consciousness, and I loved that about him. It was something I loved about both of them, the way their company felt so liberating, so free from the pressure of following any kind of status quo.

“I like this one,” I said, as one of my favourite tracks came on.

Rick turned up the volume. “Sing it, baby,” he said in a stupid voice.

And I did, I did sing it. My sad little heart picked up, and I laughed and sang the high bits even though my voice squeaked like a chipmunk when I lost the note.

He clapped when it was over, turned the volume back down.

“Man, we really need a night out,” he said. “Drinks and dancing and a huge fucking blow out.”

“Yes,” I said. “That sounds good.” I sighed, letting the tension of the stable disappointment fall away. “That sounds really great.”

“We still need to celebrate. You still did fucking ace this week, remember that. We need to party.”

I’d all but forgotten my triumph at work, a little thrill zipped through me. “It’s early days.”

“Early days, but you aced it. Carl said you were awesome. He’s so proud.” He squeezed my knee. “So am I.”

It made me blush. Maybe I was a just a little proud of myself, too.

The nerves started up as Rick turned onto their estate. The thought of facing Carl both excited and terrified me. Would he be cold again? Intimidating again? Closed off at the thought I couldn’t be the one they wanted?

Couldn’t I be the one they wanted? Was this inevitably doomed? The idea hurt.

Rick pulled onto their driveway. He turned off the radio and triggered the roof, and I fiddled with my seatbelt as we waited.

“Don’t look so scared,” he said. “We’re home. It’s all good.” He squeezed my hand. “There’s nothing to worry about, Katie, for real. No pressure.”

“I know… I just…” I let out a breath, unclipped my belt. “Let’s go.”

He opened the front door with a big smile on his face, ditched his keys on the side. “Honey, I’m home!” he called, and his voice was so warm, so silly.

I followed him through to the kitchen, and there was Carl, leaning against the island with his tablet in his hand, a mug of coffee by his side. His attention was on what he was doing, some work business, no doubt. I’d seen the same expression often as he crunched figures for sales meetings and client calls. But there was something else there, too. Maybe it was the grit of his jaw, or the uncharacteristic ghost of stubble, maybe even something more, something untenable, some kind of… sadness.

He was wearing a shirt, black and simple, over dark jeans. His hair was styled differently, slightly less slick than usual, probably towel dried, and he had no shoes on. I don’t know why that affected me so much, I don’t know why the sight of his bare feet on the tiles gave me flutters inside. I don’t know why seeing him so casual and off guard made my breath catch, made me feel hot and breathless.

He put his tablet down as he caught sight of Rick, his eyes full of questions.

And then he saw me. There was shock as his gaze met mine, a long moment of amazement as I stepped into the kitchen. And then there was a smile, a nervous smile that made my heart do a weird little flip.

“Katie,” he said, as though I’d been gone a million years.

“Surprise,” I said, and it sounded so dumb.

Rick slapped his arm as he walked by, gave him a playful smile. “Couldn’t keep her away. I tried to ditch her in Much Arlock, but she was having none of it.” He flicked the kettle on and gave me a wink. “I guess we’ll just have to put up with her.”

“Guess you will.” I poked my tongue out. “Tea for me, please.”

“
And
she expects hot beverages.” He mock groaned. “So demanding. I don’t know why we put up with it, Carl.”

But Carl wasn’t listening, wasn’t buying into our stupid banter. His gaze was intense and constant, green eyes eating me alive. My heart did another weird flip, and I felt like I was falling. I stood still, watching him right back.

“Hey,” I said, just like that. One stupid little word and I felt my cheeks burning.

I didn’t know what he’d say, but he didn’t say anything at all. He put down his mug and closed the distance between us in a couple of quick strides. He folded me in his arms, and kissed my hair and held me tight. He smelled of bodywash and citrus, and him. My cheek pressed to his chest, his heartbeat against my ear, and it was warm there, safe there. Everything felt so right there.

His chin rested on my head, his arms solid as they gave me a squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for what I said, I’m sorry about the yard.” He breathed into my hair, kissed me again. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

I felt as though I was melting into him, my body sinking into his. I held him right back, my arms around his waist, squeezing him just as hard as he was squeezing me.

“Thanks for coming back,” he said, and there was such sincerity there it caught in his throat.

I wanted to say so much, but the words were catching in my throat, too. I couldn’t shake the sadness, the pain in my heart at Rick’s story.

“I stink of Samson.” I tried to laugh, but it came out all goofed up, and there was a pathetic little sob, one I couldn’t stop, and tears pricked even though I didn’t want them to.

“I like the stink of Samson,” he said, and sniffed me.

I fought him a little as he took me by the shoulders, prised me away enough to look at my face. I tried to blink away the sadness before he noticed, but I was too late.

“What is it?” he said. “The yard?” He sighed. “I’m so sorry you’re losing the yard. We can still try and rent… we can talk to Jack…”

But I was shaking my head. “I’m fine,” I said. “It’s not the yard. I’m ok with the yard. It’s not even that important, not in the scheme of things. It’s just some land.”

Carl’s eyes dug into mine, and I looked away before he could dig my thoughts right out of me, but I was too late, he’d already seen.

He looked towards Rick, a half-smile on his face. “Had a little chat, did you, Richard? Spill all my dirty secrets?”

Rick stepped over, handed me a mug. “Don’t even think about telling me off for blurting out shit I shouldn’t, mister.” He jabbed Carl’s shoulder with a finger, but he was smiling. “Pot fucking kettle springs to mind.” He pulled his tobacco from his jeans, rolled a cigarette. “Smoke time. I’ll leave you two to do your little kiss-and-move-the-fuck-on.”

He stepped in the direction of the back door, but Carl gripped his arm. He yanked him close, wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him into a headlock which didn’t look altogether comfortable. And then he kissed him, a big wet kiss, right on the cheek.

“I love you, Rick,” he said, and my heart thumped.

Rick stayed put, snaked his arm around Carl’s waist before Carl let him go.

“Urgh,” he protested, wiping his cheek. But his eyes were sparkling, they said so much.

I waited until the door closed behind him before I went to speak, but Carl cut me off.

“You don’t need to say anything,” he said. “I was wrong to put you under pressure. There is nothing to talk about, nothing you need to say.”