Page 23 of Rhett

Tripp frowns. “I’m not. I didn’t know you like woodworking.” He runs a finger along one of the shelves. “What experience do you have?”

“None other than messing around out here. It’s something I’ve always enjoyed doing, though.” The admission comes as a surprise, and I do my best to ignore it.

“What else can you make?”

Why is he asking me this? “I made the swing on my porch, my dining-room table, some cabinetry. It keeps me busy since I left my job.”

“You should work with me.” Tripp shrugs as if he didn’t just… Did he offer me a job?

“Wait. What? Why would you want to hire me?”

“Honestly, it would only be part-time at the moment. My employee quit. He and his family moved down South. Wanted warmer weather, and since things are slower this time of year, I haven’t hired anyone else. If you’re interested, you could help me out a couple of days a week until you decide what you want to do. No obligation or anything.”

I feel like I missed a step in this conversation. “You’re offering me a job?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I need the help, you’re possibly available, and you’re good with wood.”

My stomach flip-flops for some reason.

“Wow. I just realized how that sounds. I didn’t mean it that way.”

The innuendo clicks into place. “I wouldn’t have even considered that’s what you meant.” Is Tripp into men? I’ve never heard anything about him being with guys, but then, I don’t typically pay attention to those kinds of rumors anyway. I’ve never seen him in a relationship with a man, but I haven’t seen him with anyone since his ex-wife left.

Regardless, now isn’t the time to focus on that because he just offered me a job.

In carpentry.

My skin tingles, and my pulse picks up.

“I do mostly indoor stuff when the weather is bad—cabinetry, shelving, wainscoting, indoor remodels and so on.”

My initial impulse is to say no. I’m not a carpenter. I don’t know the first thing about that kind of work. Plus, it’s not me. I might work with my hands for fun, but doing that for a career has never been a possibility.

But…that was then. I’m not that same Rhett I was before. I’m not under my father’s thumb. I’ve abandoned him, and…can I really agree to work with Tripp? Do I want to?

I do. I really fucking do.

“Like I said, it’s okay if you’re not interested.”

The memory I’d had when Tripp arrived flashes through my head. How I’d wanted to be outside with Mom and Morgan, but I’d denied myself for him. I’d made myself believe it wasn’t what I wanted because things were easier that way.

Talia’s words from earlier come back to me.

Do something fun or something that’s just for you.

Something that makes you feel good.

I don’t let myself think anymore, try not to let myself worry about anything other than having this one fucking thing for me, even if it’s temporary.

“Yes,” I say, and Tripp Cassidy smiles.

Maybe I’m not only doing this therapy thing for my brothers. Maybe it’s partly for me too.

CHAPTER EIGHT

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