Page 284 of Love in Riverbend
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid if I asked, you wouldn’t come.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh my God. You’re right, Ricky.” I spin and head toward the front steps.
“Wait,” he calls, his footsteps seconds behind mine. At the bottom of the stairs, he again reaches for me, this time capturing my hands. He tilts his head, his brown eyes bigger than normal. “Please, hear me out.”
Taking a step back, I cross my arms over my breasts. “Make it fast.”
“Do you have a date?”
My eyes narrow. “First, none of your business.”
“Bryce Perkins came to me.”
I exhale and shake my head. “Bryce is a douchebag.”
“You’re not dating him again?”
I wrinkle my nose. “No.” I look around, taking in the first floor more than I did when I rushed in. A dozen roses are in a vase on the kitchen counter. The light is on in the dining room. I peer around the corner and see the table set for two with candles. “Is this all because of Bryce?”
“No.” He runs his hands over his facial hair. “Yes.”
Shaking my head, I make my way toward the back door.
“Marilyn, I’m an ass.”
“Nice, Ricky. We can agree on something.”
“I wanted the position at Parker and Stevens, not just to work there, but to be closer to you. I told you the truth when I confessed that, years ago, I didn’t think I was good enough for you. I thought, maybe if we worked together…”
“It’s too late.”
He inhales, his nostrils flaring. “I know it should be. No matter where I work or what I do, I don’t deserve you, but I want you.”
Closing my eyes, I inhale, taking in the garlic aroma. “I won’t let you hurt me again.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. I want to have a life with you, the rest of our lives.” He lifts his hand. “Don’t freak out. That’s not a proposal. It’s me hoping that one day you may listen to one of those.”
“Why?”
“Why do I want you to listen?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Why would you want to say one?”
“Because I want to be with you. You make me smile. I make you smile.”
“YouTube videos make me smile too.”
He cocks his head to the side and grins a radiant smile. “I made chicken fettuccine alfredo. We have breadsticks, and in the freezer is a half gallon of caramel ice cream. Just caramel. I called Kandace. She’s added specialty foods to Quintessential Treasures. She said Ruth had a recipe. Joyce agreed to make it.”
“Homemade caramel ice cream? Why would you go to that trouble?”
“Because,” he says, slowly reaching for my hand, “one night a while ago, I had a dinner with a beautiful woman. I asked her to describe her perfect date. I thought she’d describe a fabulous night in Paris or New York. Instead, she described a homemade dinner with carbs and caramel ice cream.”
Tears prick my eyes. “You remembered that?”
“I’m sorry, Marilyn. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I don’t have an excuse. When Justin was hurt, I thought it was all on me to make things right. That baler was ours, and it’s always had trouble with the suspension. I thought we’d told him, but if we hadn’t and that was why he was hurt, it was up to me and me alone to make things right.”
