Tom smiled. “Probably. Listen, you need a hand with anything?”
Rick’s throat tightened. Tom had never judged, not even when Rick had messed up. He’d bailed Rick out of trouble more than once since he’d come home to stay and had been the one to convince Jack Skillin to give him a job. Rick was an only child, and Tom and Josh were the closest thing to brothers he’d ever had.
And Jess and Sarah and Bryce, too. That whole clan had accepted him. But when push came to shove, they weren’t blood. “I think I’ve done all I’m going to today.”
“Then let’s get some lunch. Crab cakes are today’s special at Breezes.”
Breezes, Rick thought dryly. Not The Rusty Fern, where they normally would have gone for a bite. But at the Fern there’d be the temptation of ordering a beer with lunch, and there was no alcohol served at the café. Not that Tom needed to worry. Rick understood his friends’ concerns, but he’d made his mom a promise. Plus, it wasn’t like it was that bad. Sure, he’d made a fuss a few times, but he wasn’t dependent on booze. He thought of Jess’s disapproving looks and something in his gut clenched.
“Hey, where’d you go? You in for lunch or what?”
Rick looked around him and felt the walls closing in. “Yeah, I’m in. I can drop that stuff off later. I’ve done enough for today, I think.”
“Sounds good.”
Rick followed Tom to Main Street and parked on a side street a block from the restaurant. When they entered, the noise was deafening and the smells fantastic. Bright light beamed through the walls of windows and he could see the bay below, the blue of the water particularly intense as it could only be in autumn. Tom was right. It was a good idea. Paul Finnigan’s little fishing boat came chugging into the harbor, probably with a good-sized catch of haddock aboard. Jack had mentioned that the fishing was still good past Widow’s Point, and Paul would get in as much time as he could before putting his boat to dock for the winter.
As Rick watched the wake from the boat form a V, he thought he might like to paint it on the new pane of glass he’d found last week, maybe with a beveled edge so that it could be hung in a window, letting the light shine through the colors. Of course it would mean another trip to Portland for supplies, but that was okay. There wasn’t much work with Jack now and he was bound to get his layoff notice any day.
“Hey, I found us a table,” Tom said, giving Rick’s arm a nudge. “Come on before we lose it.”
They sat at a table in the corner, waited while a young girl Rick didn’t recognize cleared the mess from the previous diners and then reached for menus. “No need.” Tom smiled. “We’ll both have the crab cakes and home fries.”
Rick nodded. “And make sure there’s a piece of Linda’s chocolate cake left, huh?” He smiled at her, noticed her staring at his hand, and discreetly tucked it beneath the table.
She recovered quickly and smiled. “Sure thing. Won’t be long.”
Tom frowned at Rick. “That happen a lot?”
Rick wasn’t sure why the question made a thread of anxiety spiral through him. He should be used to it by now. “All the time. People don’t expect to see this.” He held up his hand, stared at the synthetic material that looked real at first,… but was clearly not on closer examination. And as much as he could use it for a lot of tasks, he would never achieve the same dexterity again.
But it wasn’t really about the hand. It never had been. He just let people think that because it was better than facing the truth.
“You can’t let it hold you back, you know.” Tom reached for his ice water. “Any ideas what you’re going to do now that business at Jack’s is slowing down?”
Rick considered saying the word paint and then laughed to himself. He could just imagine what the fine people of Jewell Cove would say if they knew tough, booze-loving, ex-Marine Rick Sullivan had taken up painting birds and flowers. They’d think it was a joke.
“Not so much. I think Jack’ll give me a good recommendation, though.”
“There must be something in town somewhere. Even part time. Just to get you out of the house, you know?”
A female voice sounded behind him. “I’m sure there is. If he can stay sober long enough, that is.”
Rick’s hackles rose at the condemning tone, but he turned in his chair and regarded Jess Collins blandly. “Always nice to see you, Jessica,” he said. And it was. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.
And also the most judgmental. Which was probably best for all involved. Because Jess deserved a much better man than him.
It just pissed him off that they both knew it.
CHAPTER 3
Jess had thought to stop in, grab a chicken salad croissant for her lunch, and dart back to the shop. She hated having to put up the CLOSED sign, but Cindy White, who’d been working for her part time, had been offered an assistant job at the school and Jess’s high school girl, Tessa, only worked after school two days a week and Saturdays during the school year.
If Jess wanted to skip out at all, it meant closing the store. She paused, though, after placing her lunch order. She hadn’t expected to see Tom here, especially with Rick. She considered walking back out without acknowledging either one of them. But she’d been meaning to talk to Tom anyway, about building some extra wall shelves in her workroom. Now that her classes were really taking off, she needed the room without sacrificing work space.
With the workload and the wedding plans, she might not get another chance for a while.
She got to the table just in time to hear Rick say something about his job situation. Tom replied, “There must be something in town somewhere. Even part time. Just to get you out of the house, you know?”