Page 46 of Restored By You

“I know it’s not. I know you, dear.” Her eyes go soft and sad. “But I remember that man, clear as day. I sat across a table from Daniel Winton thirty years ago while he smiled at this whole town and took what he wanted, and I have never once been wrong about him.” She squeezes my arm. “I don’t want you caught in the middle of something you didn’t sign up for. That’s all.”

I open my mouth, then close it. I don’t know how to respond to that. I’d like to think people would be able to see the contract dates compared to when Shea arrived and not think something negative about Levi or me and this gig, but…

She looks at me for a long moment. Then she reaches past me, pulls a cake tin down off the pantry shelf. “Just be careful, okay?” She pats my cheek, and walks away.

I stand in the pantry a beat longer than I need to, my mother’s worry settling into my chest like cement. I try to shake it off, but there’s a layer I can’t scrape away as I make my way back to the front door.

Shea’s standing by the door, arms full as she chats with my sister. The sight of her stops me halfway down the hall. She fits. That’s the thing I keep circling back to. A woman like her, going back to a life like hers, she’d never stay.

But damn if she doesn’t look like she belongs right where she stands. With me.

“Ready?” she asks with that same smile that’s had me forgetting anything and everything that doesn’t have to do with a five-foot-seven, brown-eyed beauty.

I take the bags out of her arms, and before she can argue, I plant a heated kiss right on her plump lips. Ma’s warning can wait. It’s still my birthday for another few hours, and I’m not spending it worrying about tomorrow.

Sixteen.

Shea

“Your family is…” I trail off, searching for the right words to tell him how welcoming and kind his family is. “I don’t even have a word for it.”

“Loud,” Rhett offers, his eyes on the dark road ahead, hands on the wheel.

“Wonderful,” I say quietly. “They’re wonderful.”

He hums, but there’s something turning behind his eyes. His thumb taps the wheel.

“You okay?”

“Long day.” He reaches over and takes my hand across the console, lacing our fingers like it’s nothing. “Just tired.”

I let it go. Tyler snores in the backseat, the leftovers are warm in my lap, and I’ve decided I’m not letting this man drive home without collecting his birthday present—the one I definitely planned in advance and did not just think of ninety seconds ago.

He pulls into the resort lot and parks.

“So.” I turn in my seat, biting my lip. “About your gift.”

His brow lifts. “I thought we agreed—”

“You agreed. I never said anything.” I lean across the console, close enough to feel the warmth coming off him, and drop my voice. “Walk me up? Tyler sleeps like the dead, and I’ve got something for you that doesn’t fit in a bag.”

Rhett goes very still. Those latte eyes drop to my mouth, then back up, and the ‘tired’ gone clean out of them. “Darlin’,” he says, low and rough, “you should’ve led with that.”

I bite my lip, then promptly nudge Tyler awake in the back. “We’re home, Ty. Grab your cake before you crush it.”

He surfaces slow, hair smashed flat on one side. “I’m awake,” he mumbles, gathering his leftovers and sliding out of the truck.

Rhett grabs the rest of the food before I can, and the three of us cross the lot into the warm gold of the lobby, past the night clerk, and up the elevator. I’m very aware of the man standing beside me the whole ride. The heat of him. The way his hand intertwines with mine without a second thought.

Upstairs, Tyler toes off his shoes at the door and heads straight for his room. But stops, turns, looks at Rhett with the blurry gaze of a kid three-quarters asleep. “Thanks for the invite,” he says. “Your family’s actually really cool.” A pause, and then, quieter, “Happy birthday, man.”

Rhett grins. “Thanks, bud. That means a lot.”

“Yup.” And he’s gone, his door clicking shut behind him.

Then it’s just us and the quiet of the suite. “So.” I set the bags on the counter and turn to find Rhett watching me from the entryway, hands in his pockets. “Grand tour?”

“Sure.”