Page 29 of How Dare You

“Don’t pretend you’re not into him,” Allie whispers.

Should have known that just because I never told her about the night I almost hooked up with him didn’t mean I could hide the way I feel about him from her. Still, I deny it. “I don’t have to pretend.”

“Bullshit. You want him so bad.” Blessedly, she keeps her voice quiet. “I see the way you look at him.”

“How’s that?” My voice comes out sharp.

Allie tsks. “Like you want to kill him. None of that indifference you show to everyone else.”

I sigh.

“You know I’ll come get you, right?” Allie asks. “You change your mind, and I’ll drop whatever I’m doing and be here.”

“I know.”

Chapter 12

Rhett

Devon’s here.

-From Rhett’s Most Important Things notebook, August 20th

Bea’s car pulls away, leaving a low trail of dust in its wake that settles in the distance between me and my angry blonde companion.

I break the silence. “Good to see you, mama.”

She runs her navy eyes in an assessing path from my hat to my concrete-splattered boots and back up, before turning them on the airstream for the same perusal. She finally turns back to me, taking a step closer. “Ooh,” Devon draws the word into three long mock-impressed syllables. She looks up at me, her placating half smile pulling at her lips. “I get it now. Trailer daddy.”

I release a long, low whistle, letting my accent come out in full force in my response. “Kind of like that.” Shaking my head, I laugh to myself. “Trailer daddy.” Picking up her luggage, I head toward said trailer. I stop close enough to her that she has to tilt her head to meet my gaze. “Here I expected it would take at least the first week until you were calling me that. You gave it to me before your friends are even off my property.” My gate creaks in the distance, accentuating my point.

Her eyes narrow. Fuck, she’s hot when she’s angry. “You know you haven’t won.”

“Devon.” The sound of her breath catching when I lower my voice and speak her name directly into her ear makes me happier than she’ll ever know. “I will have you on your knees in that trailer before our first week is up.”

This time her gasp is one of pure indignation. This is going to be a blast. It’s torture missing the look on her face, but I make it to the door without turning back. “You coming? Or do you plan on sleeping under the stars?”

She huffs, crossing to the stairs and trying to push past me, but it’s a narrow space, so she only succeeds in pressing her body fully against mine as she inches her way into the trailer. “Would you like the tour?” I ask.

She looks to her left, then right. “Think I’ve got it.” Gathering up her luggage, she lays both suitcases and a pristine cream-colored leather bag across the bed.

“Can I get you anything?” I pull open the fridge door. “Water? Iced tea, I’ve got beer. Pickles?”

“You can’t expect me to survive for two weeks on beer and pickles,” she says, inspecting the contents of the first sand-colored suitcase.

I pour myself a glass of tea and lean on the bedroom’s collapsed accordion door in its frame. “There’s real food. Promise.”

She pulls one piece of clothing out at a time, refolding and sorting them into piles. She didn’t pack it herself. Her friends actually did surprise her with this. I didn’t fully believe Allie when she said she’d be able to get her out here, but she proved me wrong. Devon unzips the second suitcase and pulls out a pair of navy athletic shoes.

“If you’re interested, I’ve got an open closet for you,” I offer.

She blinks at me, making the cutest little frustrated huffing sound. “Yes, McCoy. I’m interested in a closet.” She’s irritated, but barely more than usual.

She follows me the three steps to the closet. The interior of my airstream was wrecked when I bought it, which was ideal since I wanted to rip it all out and start fresh. Originally, there was a dining table that folded out into an additional bed on this wall. Now it’s six feet of custom closet built-ins, which isn’t bad for a thirty-three-foot trailer.

Devon assesses the space, including the half I cleared out for her earlier today, before depositing her shoes and moving back to the piles on the bed without a word.

We stay like that for long minutes, the only sound disturbing the silence is that of the ice clinking in my glass when I take an occasional sip and the soft shuffle of her clothes as she pulls out and refolds each item. She glares at me as she paces back and forth to put things away before she carries more bottles and jars than I’d know what to do with over to the bathroom at the far end of the trailer.

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