“Yeah, okay.” It was only fair. He gestured toward the stairs, and she led the way.
“I wasn’t asking your permission.” As she climbed, she wobbled and grabbed the handrail. “Whoa. It’s like being on a yacht in a storm, right?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been on a yacht.”
“Oh, it’s fun. Except in a storm because then I get sick. I went whale watching once when I was little, and I threw up about twenty times. Mum was so embarrassed, she said she’d never take me again.”
“Your mom’s got issues.”
At the top of the stairs, she swung around. Cheeks flushed, complexion smooth and creamy, she looked young, innocent, and stunningly beautiful. “What did you say?”
“I said you should go whale watching again if you want to. You might not get seasick the next time you try it.”
“Let’s do that. Let’s go whale watching.”
“Ah, okay. Wyoming’s landlocked, though, so maybe we could try something else.”
“Really? You want to do something with me?” She was about to clap her hands but missed, got disoriented, and reeled.
As she toppled into his arms, his right leg went down a step to brace himself. Her scent filled his senses—underneath the cake and wine, he caught a whiff of soap, coconut shampoo, and something so unbearably sweet and feminine, his skin went hot. With her elbow jabbing into his ribcage, he shifted her, ready to set her upright, but she sank into him. Her body relaxed, and she sighed. Just as her eyelids fluttered closed, he pushed her upright. “Come on.”
She blinked in confusion. “I thought we were going to do something.”
“We are. We’re going to sleep.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” But she continued up the stairs. “What did you used to do here as a cute little boy?”
“Who said I was cute?”
“Oh, I saw pissures of you. You were all scowly and adorable. I’d have had a terrible crush on you. But you were probably like Kurt, so I wouldn’t have liked you.”
Under the bright kitchen lights, he could see puffiness under her eyes and little flecks of mascara. In spite of the exhaustion, disappointment, and grief she had to be experiencing, she had an inherent joyfulness that made him feel like an asshole for being so hard on her.
She gave him a knowing look. “I’ll bet you had lots of girlfriends. I’ll bet you had sex under the bleachers and in the back of cars. You probably made out with girls on Lovers Lane.”
“I think you’ve been watching too many American movies.”
“After a touchdown, your cheerleader girlfriend probably came running onto the field and threw herself into your arms.”
Definitely too many movies. “I played hockey. We didn’t have cheerleaders.” He gave her a little nudge. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”
The moment she turned around, she saw the blue box on the kitchen table. “Oh, look. Cake.” She practically skipped across the room. “Want some?”
When he caught up with her, he read the inscription. Happy birthday, Sarah.
“What?” She touched the space between his eyes. “Why did you get all crinkly?”
“Because that little girl who let you in here? You just ate her birthday cake.”
“I did?” Her eyes went wide, flooding with tears. “Oh, no. What have I done?” With a look of determination, she marched toward the pantry.
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m making her a new one.”
He followed her into the large, immaculately organized space and watched her scan the containers, cans, bottles, and boxes. “Um.” She pulled down a large canister. “Flour, right? What else? Sugar. Cake’s got to have sugar.”
Christ. “Have you ever made a cake?”
“No, but it can’t be that hard. I have to try or that little girl’s not going to have a birthday cake.”
He pulled the canister out of her arms and set it back on the shelf. “I’ll pick one up in the morning. She won’t need it until later in the day.” He’d noticed the Harley and Lu’s Emporium logo on the box, so he was pretty sure he could order another identical one. “Look, I’m going to clean up a little. Are you good on your own?”
“Oh, sure. I’m used to being on my own.”
“I meant finding your way upstairs but go ahead and break my heart some more. You chose a bedroom, right?”
“I picked the one furthest from yours. All the way at the end of the hall. I don’t want to run into you. You don’t make me feel good.”
“I’m sorry about that, but I’ll repeat it in the morning when you’re sober. Now, do you want me to help you up there?”
“No, thank you. I might just take a little nap on the couch.”
“Okay, just take off that shirt first.”
Even though she didn’t move, her spirit seemed to retract like a crab pulling its limbs into its shell. “I showered. Do I still stink?”
“No, you’ve got chocolate cake…” He motioned to her face and chest.
She looked down. “Oh.” She started lifting the shirt. “See? I’m a big, hot mess.”
He reached for her wrists. “Hang on, Stripper Barbie. Let’s not take it off yet, okay? Let’s get you upstairs where you can change into something else. I’ll deal with Kurt’s jersey later.” He took her elbow and guided her across the living room.
“See what I’m saying?” She made a vague gesture toward the mantel. “No pictures of me.”
He did a quick scan and realized she was right. “Not there, maybe, but I’m sure he has some.”
“No. He never wanted me.”
She was killing him. “Now, I know for a fact that’s not true.”
Grabbing his arm, she stopped, those blue eyes filled with hope. “How do you know?”
“Kurt talked about you all the time.”
“He did?”
“Sure.” That wasn’t exactly truthful. Kurt didn’t talk much, but that only meant when he did mention his daughter, Declan had paid attention. She’d mattered to him. He tried to urge her toward the stairs.
“What did he say? Did he say why he stopped talking to me?”
“No. He didn’t confide in me about stuff like that. Now, come on, Seraphina. You have to change out of this shirt.”
“Nobody calls me Seraphina.”
“What do they call you?”
“I’m Phinny. Except when I do something wrong, and then I’m Seraphina.” She lowered her voice to imitate a pissed-off snooty man.
When they finally reached the grand staircase, she let out a gigantic sigh. “I’m sad that he’s gone.”
“Me, too.”
“Well, but you miss him. I didn’t know him. And now he’s gone, I never will.”
“So, you don’t hate him anymore?”
“No, silly. I never hated him. He hurt my feelings. He made me sad.” Her voice sounded so delicate, just a wisp.
“Yeah, I can see that.” At the end of the hallway, he steered her into the bedroom that held her carry-on and purse. “You didn’t bring much.”