Page 32 of Unravel Me

“Thanks.” I bite my lip as the butterflies swarm my stomach.

“So, why don’t you bake anymore? You said you used to.”

“Oh. Well, I got busy with my job, with life…” With wedding planning, with pleasing a man who I was never good enough for. “And Jackson used to hate it when I baked. He thought it was a waste of time, so I sort of just stopped.”

I knew it sounded weak. And I hated myself for bringing up Jackson in front of Rhett.

“Okay, well, that’s the dumbest shit I ever heard,” Rhett retorted, and when our gaze meets, I crack a smile, making him smile, too. “Hell, if someone wanted to bake for me, I'd be bowing down at their feet.”

Just like that, I swear a piece of my heart clicked back into place.

“Not everyone is as appreciative as you,” I muse, gently tapping his knee with my fingertips.

“So, tell me about Rhett,” I say, quickly pulling my hand back to my lap.

“First, I don’t bake.” We both laugh. “I’m a carpenter; learned the trade from my mom’s father. I was born and raised down the street in the house my mom still lives in. I spend most of my time here, with Mabel. And I’m a homebody who has an unhealthy obsession with old movies and old music.”

“You forgot that you save people who find themselves crying on rooftops, and you help move strangers when their moving company ghosts them…and you have the world's cutest dog. Anything else I’m missing?” I tease.

“You forgot to add I have incredible taste in women.” He leans forward and my breath hitches.

“Oh…” I pop another piece of sushi into my mouth, leaning back against the cushions of the sofa, my heart dropping into my stomach. “So, what are we watching?”

But the movie didn’t really matter. Rhett puts on a classic I've seen a million times, but even if it was something new, I wouldn’t have been able to follow the storyline. The words wouldn’t have made sense. Just like the feelings stirring inside of me as I sit here next to Rhett with string lights above me, a dog at my feet, and the peace of the country around me.

I don’t know how I ended up here, and part of me wants to run; far, far away.

But the other part of me never wants to leave.

Halfway through the movie, I have to use the bathroom. Rhett leads me inside, holding the old screen door open, as I walk into the kitchen. The white cabinets and butcher block countertops are charming, and the original pine floors creak as I walk across them. The kitchen was definitely renovated, but there’s also a mixture of bachelor pad items, like the folding chairs at the beautiful farmhouse dining table. I think back to the showroom-esque home I shared with Jackson, and overwhelming warmth fills my chest.

This is what a home is supposed to be, for most people, I think.

Rhett taps his knuckles on the bathroom door. “I’ll wait for you outside. But would you like anything to drink?” He points over his shoulder at a vintage style refrigerator.

“Do you have Diet Coke by chance?” I asked, crinkling my nose.

“Of course, I have Diet Coke.” Rhett smirks. “But the question is, do you want whiskey in it?”

“Of course.”

“That’s my girl,” Rhett said, turning on his heels back into the kitchen.

Thank god, because my face turned bright red as I ducked into the bathroom. I grip the pedestal sink and attempt to clear my head.

Rhett was back outside by the time I came out, so I took a moment to linger inside. It’s not polite to snoop, but I can’t help but look at the gallery wall of family photos in the hallway.

There were photos of what I could only assume was a young Rhett. They were adorable. One was him standing next to a river with an older man’s arm around him. Another was a photo of a pretty woman with the same blue eyes hugging what I'd assume was Rhett a few years back. And the most precious of all was a picture of Mabel under a Christmas tree with a red bow around her neck.

I’d wager that under the tough exterior of the rugged man sitting outside waiting for me, was a soft heart.

I could only hope.

Because for most of my life, I was surrounded by cold exteriors and colder hearts disguised as love.

Chapter eighteen

Rhett