Page 12 of Restored By You

“Mornin’, ladies.” His voice is smooth and rough and so deep I nearly melt.

Gosh, did he sound this good last night, too?

I peer up at him only to catch something flicker across his face, and then, devastatingly, the corner of his mouth tugs into that rationed smile I’m far too eager to chase and claim as mine.

What the—?

My face heats. “Hello,” I say, my voice squeaking despite myself.

What has gotten into me? Is it the water or the thin, mountain air? Because I am not the girl who blushes or gets all squeaky and swoony over some—some guy! It has to be the water… That’s what got Callie, too.

Or it’s just these damn mountain men and their competency…

“What are you boys up to this fine morning?” Callie asks innocently, beaming a smile so wide her cheeks strain.

I glare at her.

I drag my attention off Rhett long enough to clock the man beside him, and the family resemblance is immediate. The same broad build, the same easy way of taking up space like the room owes them rent.

But where Rhett is all dark hair and quiet, this one is blond and loose, a lazy grin already in place like he’s mid-way through a joke only he’s heard. Younger by a few years at least. He’s got a boyish grin I’d guess has spelled trouble for women across at least three counties.

“You must be the California girl who flooded the old Hargrove place,” he says, sticking out a hand. “Levi. The better-looking brother.”

Debatable.

Rhett snorts into his travel mug.

“Shea,” I say, shaking it.

“She’s my best friend,” Callie supplies, entirely too pleased to be narrating.

“The best friend?” Levi’s brows shoot up, delighted, his gaze pinballing between me and his brother with open, unsubtle interest. “Well, isn’t that just—”

“Here.”

Tyler materializes at the edge of the table, setting the tray down with resentment. That’ll be the last time I ask him to place an order, clearly.

He drops into the seat beside me, snatching a muffin I assume he ordered for himself before reaching for his earbuds, then clocks the two men lingering at the edge of the table. His eyes narrow, faintly, with the suspicion of a boy raised to distrust anyone friendly. “Plumber Guy.”

“Contractor,” Rhett and I correct in unison.

And I feel the moment in my sternum as our gazes meet once again.

“Right.” Levi claps his brother on the shoulder, grinning like Christmas came early. “Well. We’ll leave you to it. Rhett needs his refill. He gets downright feral without his second gallon.”

“Sounds like a plumbing issue,” Tyler mutters around his straw.

Levi barks a laugh, pointing at the kid with genuine approval. “I like him.”

Rhett doesn’t move right away. His gaze drops to me one more time, unreadable, warm at the edges, and I have the sudden, disorienting sense of feeling seen.

“Noon,” he says. Not a question, but a promise.

“Yup. See you then,” I say, and my voice only cracks a little.

He turns away, striding toward the counter with his brother, and I am absolutely, one hundred percent not watching the way his shoulders fill out that T-shirt as he goes. I have far too much dignity for that.

Usually.