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He glances at me, but gives me a soft, sleepy smile. “Once we figure out where we’re going, I’ll make sure you have everything you need to make them every day if you’d like.”
I take another slow sip, then admit, “I’d love that.”
We spend all day prepping and cooking the food for Friendsgiving. Rhett does most of the work, letting me jump in here and there when small tasks arise. He seems like he genuinely loves cooking and being in the kitchen, like it’s not a burden for me to sit on a stool and watch him.
Today, our small talk easily extends into deeper conversations. We laugh and tease each other, telling childhood memories and genuinely taking the time to get to know each other. I’ve learned a lot about him the past few weeks, but he hasn’t opened up and relaxed much until today. I know it’sbecause of last night, but a small part of me thinks we were already pointing ourselves in this direction.
The night we spent tattooing each other made me see a whole other side to him. Something I hadn’t expected. And now here, with him in my kitchen, I’m seeing a domesticated side of him. He actually washed his hands before he started touching the food, which is something most men don’t do. They don’t care. But Rhett does.
He thinks of the little things. Like the pumpkin spice lattes.
And I love that about him.
We spent about an hour taking down all of Rhett’s locks and boards on the windows, making the house look like it did prior to his arrival. No one will ever know what happened here. And the reality is, they don’t need to.
I’m so excited to see my friends for the first time in weeks, especially Sloan, but I’m also feeling heartbroken knowing it’s the last time I’ll see them for who knows how long. I can’t leave Sloan forever, and no matter where we go, I’ll find a way to stay in contact with her. When she gets here, I already know she’ll have a million questions. Where have I been? Why am I acting like I’m distancing myself from her? The reality is, it was Rhett’s doing and I had no say in it, but now everything is different. Iwantto go with Rhett. Ineedto see where we end up and what kind of life we might have together. It’s not traditional or expected, but that’s what I like about it. I’ve turned over a new leaf, and this is the new me.
The rest of my friends I can go without seeing again. Most of them are closer with Sloan, anyway. I’ve always been the more loyal type, with only one or two people I hold close. Her friends are fun to be around and make me feel like I have more of a social life than I actually do, but I’m okay saying goodbye.
When Sloan gets here, I plan to tell her that Rhett and I have decided to travel and I’ll be taking some time off. Jeremywill run the shop, and I’ll check in from a distance. She’ll be suspicious, of course, but that’s how Sloan is by nature. All I can do is my best, and that’ll have to be good enough.
Rhett plants a quick kiss on my cheek as he reaches behind me, grabbing one of the giant spoons out of the utensil holder. I grab his face, twisting it toward me as he leans back, then pull him into a soft, sweet kiss. Our lips move together, and my hand moves around to the back of his head, drawing him into me, letting him know I’m here, and I’m his.
When I let go and he pulls back, his pupils are blown, and there’s a hungry look in his eye. “I need to get this casserole in the oven, but you’re doing a phenomenal job distracting me.”
I bite my bottom lip, smiling up at him from my chair. “Better hurry up, then.”
Rhett shakes his head, grinning as he turns back to the half-made green bean casserole waiting for him in a mixing bowl. “Something tells me you’re going to get me into a lot of trouble at work.”
“Why’s that?” I press, already knowing his answer.
There’s a twinkle in his dark eyes as he says, “Because I’m going to want to spend most of my time tangled up in bed with you rather than working on my next assignment.”
Shrugging as I cup my third steaming hot pumpkin spice latte in my hands, I ask, “Would you have it any other way?”
Rhett laughs, turning to look at me. “No, little nightmare, I wouldn’t.”
Chapter Eighteen
RHETT
It’s late afternoon. The golden light filtering through the windows casts a warm glow over the kitchen as I lean against the counter, watching Cara. The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg fills the air. The pie we cooked together sits cooling on the oversized island—the recipe my mother used to make. We’ve been at it all day, prepping dinner for Friendsgiving. It’s a fucking feast, and I did as much as I could. Between stirring pots, rolling out dough, and even working on that pie… it feels surreal.
I can’t remember the last time I celebrated a holiday or smelled anything like this. The warmth of a home-cooked meal? The feeling of something normal, something good? It’s been years, and even then, it never felt like this.
But the truth is, every time I move, my ribs scream in protest. Bruised for sure, maybe broken, but it’s nothing I haven’t been through before. I’ve been hiding the pain, though, pushing through it. Cara doesn’t need to know. She’s already got enough on her plate.
I should be helping more, but I can’t tear my eyes away from her. The way she darts around the kitchen, wiping down counters and fixing every little detail… makes something tightenin my chest. This is real. We’re here, together, after everything. And she’s still mine.
I fucking knew she wanted this.
She catches me staring and smiles. Pushing myself off the counter, I step toward her as she wipes her hands on a dish towel before tossing it on the counter. She moves like she’s got no idea how much I want her. How the sight of her flushed cheeks and raven hair falling loose from the day’s work has me losing control.
Her arms wrap around my neck, fingers running along the short hairs at the base of my neck as her body presses against mine. “You alright?” she asks, her voice soft but with that playful edge that always drives me crazy.
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Just watching you.”
She tilts her head, lips brushing lightly against mine, the taste of her so familiar, so damn intoxicating. The scent of her, vanilla and something else that’s just hers makes everything in me snap. The need hits me all at once, that burning, primal urge to claim her, own her, take her.
