Page 55 of Unravel Me

“Why did you do that?”

“Last week, you said that all you dreamed about was having time to lay in a hammock all day, reading a book.” My brows crease together. “You did say that, right?”

Audrey shakes her head, pulling herself out of a daze. “Yeah, I did say that…” She reaches up, tightening her messy bun. “I guess I didn’t realize you were listening to me.”

“I listen to everything you say.” Scoffing at her, I reach down to pet Mabel. “So, how does that sound?”

She bit her lip, her eyes lighting up. “It sounds freaking incredible. I do have a new book on my Kindle, actually…”

“Good. The afternoon is yours.” I smile, happy if she is.

“Perfect,” she mimics, standing up to refill our coffees; but not before I pull her into my lap, breathing in her sweet jasmine smell, kissing her soft lips deeply, running my palm across the top of her soft leg, trying to keep thoughts of last night out of my head. It’s going to be near impossible but I’m trying to be well behaved.

Audrey laughs, swatting my hand away, and winks at me from the doorway as she struts back into the house, leaving me wondering how the hell I got so lucky, and wondering when I’ll wake up from this dream.

Chapter thirty-one

Audrey

Relationships aren’t supposed to be this easy, right?

Maybe it’s just my innate cynicism, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or maybe Jackson left me more jaded than I care to acknowledge, but I find myself staring into space, counting all of Rhett’s green flags.

“You’re awfully quiet, darlin’. What’re you thinking about?” Rhett dries his hands on a dish towel, before settling back into the counter, looking at me.

I decided to say exactly what I'm thinking. “Just wondering why you’re so nice to me.” I say it like a joke, but I don’t think it lands like one.

“You act like it's a bad thing or it’s hard. I don’t know who in your life ever told you that you weren’t easy to fall for. I’ll never tell you what to do, but I’d suggest you stop listening to that voice.”

Rhett’s words sink in sharply, and I know he’s right, even if it’s hard to stomach. I just spent the last few hours baking in the sun with a tall glass of iced tea next to me, reading in the hammock he positioned perfectly between two oak trees. All because of him and how he listens to me, takes my tiny little daydreams seriously. No one has ever done that for me.

“Well, thank you. I appreciate you, Rhett,” I reply, and he nods, his baseball cap not hiding the small smirk on his lips. “What?” I ask, wondering if there’s something on my face. Instinctually I wipe at my mouth.

“Did you enjoy the show this afternoon, ma’am?” I feel myself turn red, because without further explanation, I know what he’s referring to. The hammock gave me a straight view into the workshop, where I stole glimpses of him doing his woodworking all afternoon. I had to reread chapter five three times, and it's all his fault.

“You know, I’m not an expert at what you were doing, but I don’t believe woodworking without a shirt on is advisable.”

“Would you like to file a formal complaint?” he teases, inching forward, and I tap my lips with my finger.

“Absolutely not.” Rhett closes the gap, kissing me. He’s messy with saw dust but I don’t mind. After watching him in his shop, I’m pretty sure I'll never look at carpentry the same.

“Oh, by the way, my mom and sister are very excited to meet you tomorrow.”

My dirty thoughts drop quicker than a fly as a new bout of nerves have me in a chokehold. I’ve been trying not to think about tomorrow, thinking I would be fine. I’ve been to countless dinner parties where the pressure to impress the hosts was at the forefront of my mind. Where very important guests of my parents’ or Jackson’s coworkers surrounded me, and I had to keep my conversation polite, and reserved. But being invited to the Anderson weekly family dinner tomorrow was in an entirely new class.

“Oh, wow.”

Rhett’s brows furrow slightly, and he pinches the back of his neck.

“Please don’t worry or overthink it. It’s no big deal, really.”

I scoff, tapping my nails on the kitchen counter. “A dinner party with your family is a big deal. I just want them to like me. I know our relationship kind of came out of left field and—” I stopped, flustered and fidgeting in my bare feet.

Rhett lets out a low chuckle, stepping up to me. My stomach flips as he tucks my hair behind my ear, an amused smirk on his lips. If only we could all be as cool and casual as Rhett Anderson. Add effortlessly beautiful to that mix, too.

“If by dinner party, you mean a potluck with two kids and three dogs running around, then honey, it’s a dinner party.”

I let out a loud huff, but Rhett continues, his amused smirk persistent.