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.”
“But I want to…” I sighed. “I wanted to say thanks, for the offer.”
He held up his hands. “The offer stands, no conditions. It’s there if you want it, Katie.”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “But thank you.”
“If you change your mind…”
“I won’t,” I said. “Not about the yard.”
His eyes widened. “And about everything else? Are you planning on staying with us? For the rest of the six months? Is that what you want?”
I sipped my tea. “No.” I shook my head. “That isn’t what I want. Not for six months.”
His face dropped instantly, his shoulders heavy. “I see.” He paused. “I do understand.”
“You don’t,” I said, and then I waited, watching Rick pacing and smoking through the window. “I don’t know what I’ll want forever, but I know what I want right now.”
“And what’s that?”
I smiled. “Let’s wait for Rick.”
We moved to the living room, and I took the armchair. Carl took the sofa, and Rick took the pouffe between us both.
“So,” Carl said, ever the straight-talker. “Where do we go from here? What do you want from us?”