Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
When Sloan returned, she slid back into the seat and passed a glass of cranberry across the table.
“Thanks.” Matty grinned. “That didn’t take long at all. You must have gotten lucky.”
“Or I just tip well.” Sloan smirked, knowing the comment was a bit of a tease. Matty remembered the size of the tip Sloan had left on that other night she’d been in. She also remembered how Sloan’s attention had left her feeling all worked up.
“I guess that could be it,” Matty said as she poured some of the juice into her original glass. She took another sip to test it and winced a little less than before.
“Better?”
Matty nodded. “Slightly. So...have you murdered Mrs S and left her body in the garden to be carried away by foxes?”
Sloan sat back and narrowed her eyes a little. “That’s a somewhat macabre imagination you have there.” Her fingers twisted the glass back and forth. “I can’t deny that I haven’t thought about it.” The right side of her mouth curled as she picked the glass up.
Matty mirrored the move and they both took a drink while intently watching each other.
“After you left, I had time to think about everything, and I suppose I let it get on top of me. I might have said a few things.” Sloan’s fingers tightened around her glass.
“Well, I don’t think there is anything wrong with saying what you need to in these situations.”
“Even if I threatened to put her in a care home?” Sloan’s brow arched a little.
“You wouldn’t, though, would you?”
“Honestly, I don’t know anymore. I’ve done everything I can think of to make her life easier since Dad died and she had her stroke.
And she just pushes back like I’m this demon trying to ruin her life.
” Sloan stared into her glass, swirling the ice before taking another sip.
“I just don’t know what she wants from me. ”
“She’s stubborn,” Matty said. “And in some ways, that’s a good thing. It means she won’t just give up on life. She’s fighting to find her place in a new world she didn’t ask to be in.”
“And that’s me, too, but she doesn’t notice,” Sloan said.
“How do you mean?” Matty asked.
Sloan shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I think it does. It mattered enough that you said it.” Matty’s voice softened. “It’s okay to let people see you.”
Sloan stared at her. “Is it?”
Matty nodded. “It is. More than you probably realise.”
Sloan smiled, then took a slow sip of her drink, studying Matty over the rim of the glass before she said, “When Dad died, we were all upset of course. He’d taken care of all of us, and then he wasn’t there and we—” she corrected herself, jaw tightening, “I had to step up.
He left the house to me, my brother, and my sister, to be shared equally, with the proviso that Mum could live in it until she passed away, which was fine. We all had our own lives and houses.
“But then Mum had the stroke.” Her mouth flattened. “And my siblings were...well…” She gave a small, humourless huff. “The responsibility for Mum was all left to me.”
“Yes,” Matty said quietly, “I remember you saying that.”
“What I didn’t say was how they wanted to put Mum in a care home then, but it was me who said no and stood up for her.
” Sloan’s mouth tightened. “Those weeks when Mum couldn’t talk or walk and we thought we might lose her were the worst. Janet and Lionel had already decided what they would do with their share.
Mum wasn’t even dead.” She looked away, blinking hard, and drained half her glass.
“That must’ve been overwhelming.” Matty’s fingers curled against the table, resisting the urge to reach for Sloan’s hand.
“In the end, I offered to buy them out. I took on the responsibility for keeping Mum in her home.”
“Because you’re admirable, and you have integrity, and you love her.”
“Of course I love her, she’s my mother, but she frustrates the hell out of me.” Sloan swallowed the last of her drink. The empty glass clicked back on the table. “Another?”
“This one’s on me.”
“You don’t have to—”
Matty slid out of the booth and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t make me feel like the hired help.”
“What? No, that’s not—” Sloan turned, grasping her wrist like the last time she’d been at the bar. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.” Her grip loosened and fingers slid to link with Matty’s.
Matty held her gaze, aware they were now holding hands. “Did you drive here, or did you walk?”
Sloan nodded. “I can leave the car in the car park. I’ll walk or get a cab.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back. Another Old Fashioned?” Matty asked.
“Please. That would be nice.”
Matty pulled away, fingertips sliding against one another until there was air between them and she could breathe again.
Sloan’s words had been slurred just a little. Years working bar jobs had given Matty a good understanding of when someone was starting to get intoxicated.
It was a little endearing, and she had a feeling it was something Sloan needed to do—something that would loosen her grip on those walls she’d built around herself.
Sloan must have been thinking a similar thing, because when Matty returned and slid a fresh drink towards her, she said, “I don’t know why I feel like I can tell you anything.”
“Maybe I’m just easy to get along with?” Matty answered, sliding into the booth and trying not to make it such a big deal, Sloan would shut down again.
“You are,” Sloan agreed, then became thoughtful. She studied Matty.
“What?” Matty asked, blushing under the scrutiny.
The slow, seductive smile that crept onto Sloan’s face sent shivers down Matty’s spine.
“I was just thinking that if you didn’t work for me, this would be much simpler.”
“Oh.” Matty frowned, not the answer she was expecting.
“Yes, and then I could stop pretending I’m not thinking about that kiss.”
“You take your employer status seriously.”
“I do.” Sloan nodded and reached for the almost empty glass. “Can’t have you going to HR for sexual harassment.” She giggled, and Matty grinned. It was sexy in a weird way—not seductive, just authentic.
“I could resign and then you could rehire me the following day.” Matty winked. “I haven’t signed anything yet. Technically, I’m just...helping out.”
“That’s a... You make a compelling argument.” Sloan looked away and watched the crowd dancing.
“Do you dance?”
“Ah, the old change of subject.” Matty laughed. “Yes, sometimes.”
“Go on then. Show me.”
Matty’s stomach somersaulted. She couldn’t tell if it was nerves or excitement when Sloan said things like that. Feeling brave, she leaned forward and said, “Take me home, and I’ll dance just for you.”
Sloan stared at her, nostrils flaring, pupils darkening. Her head tilted just slightly, the smirk curving one side of her mouth, and the dimple in her cheek popping. The music changed up to something hot and sexy. People moved towards each other, grinding and dipping, as hands roamed bodies.
“No...I’m not ready to leave yet.” Sloan smirked at her. “But I want you to dance for me…here…now.”
Matty thought for a second, then slowly stood up and moved around the table. She held out a hand. “Not for you, with you.”
For a moment, Matty wasn’t sure if she’d pushed her luck too far, but Sloan took her hand and slid out from the booth. When they were face to face, Sloan let go of Matty’s hand and stepped in, one hand settling at Matty’s waist as if testing whether she’d pull away.
Sloan’s eyes flicked down to Matty’s mouth. A second later, her lips ghosted across, her nose nudging against Matty’s. “I like that you keep surprising me,” she said against Matty’s ear.
“Shouldn’t I be?” Matty breathed.
Matty’s eyes fluttered shut, her arms around Sloan’s neck, as she gave in to the music and the slow, deliberate touch of Sloan’s hand on her cheek. The fingers on her other hand traced lightly along Matty’s side, then settled at her hip, steadying rather than claiming.
The beat of the music didn’t seem to matter as they moved together, slow and close, every shift of Sloan’s body landing like a question Matty already knew the answer to.
It felt like hours and minutes all at once, time just gone, until soft lips pressed against hers in an echo of earlier in the evening, nudging until they parted, and Sloan’s tongue entered her mouth like it belonged there.
The kiss wasn't like before. It was everything Matty desired—heat, hunger, the dizzying thrill of being wanted back. It was too much. She pulled back, dropping her gaze before Sloan could read her face.
Sloan lightly touched two fingers to Matty’s chin, guiding her back. “Hey,” she said softly, “look at me.”
“Why?”
Sloan held her gaze. “Because I need to know whether taking you home is something I’ll regret.”