Page 34 of Rhett

Tripp

Rhett and Iwork together about three days a week for the next few weeks. Every morning, he gets me a coffee. On the third day, I started bringing him little treats to go with his lunch. The first day was a piece of apple crisp Meadow and I made the night before. We didn’t have the ice cream to go along with it, but Rhett seemed to like it all the same. We’ve made chocolate-chip cookies, which I brought him too, and when he mentioned liking banana bread, that was next on my list.

I’m pretty sure the coffee is Rhett’s way of trying to pay me back for letting him work with me. But then, there are other small things he does that make me think Rhett is a secret caretaker and the coffee is only one of his ways of taking care of me. We got a soda the other day, and he opened mine for me before handing it over. Then, when we were hauling materials through the house and my boot was untied, rather than telling me, Rhett stopped me, knelt, and tied it for me.

I must admit, that one stole my damn breath—so much about Rhett does. The more time I spend with him, the more attracted to him I get, but it’s more than that. Ilikehim. I just really fucking like Rhett Swift. He’s a good man who doesn’t see it, and I crave being around him.

Today is our last workday of this week. We’re still at the same job, now renovating the bathrooms.

“Is this what you’ve always wanted to do?” Rhett asks, which is new. He’ll ask me more questions, start more conversations now than he used to.

“Yeah. My brother, Bruce, and I used to work with my dad a lot around the house. Dad is the kind of guy who can figure out how to do just about anything, so most of the time, if anything broke or if Mom wanted anything built or remodeled, Dad would do it himself.”

“Did that happen a lot?”

“I wouldn’t say a lot, but I got some experience and realized I liked it. Me, Bruce, and Dad built a treehouse when I was in sixth grade. It was nice too, lots of space. It’s where I used to go to get away. Also, I kissed my first girl in that treehouse.” I waggle my brows, and Rhett chuckles.

“In sixth grade?”

“Nope. Eighth at that point. Molly. She moved away in high school. Anyway, it was also in eighth grade that my mom found this junior carpenter class. It was just an after-school thing for fun, but she signed me up because she knew how much I liked working with my hands. There was no going back after that.”

“Your dad didn’t mind? He’s a realtor. Bruce works with him, right?”

I frown at his question—that he has to ask it at all. Gregory would have had an issue with Rhett taking a class for something he liked and choosing a career that’s his passion rather than following in his footsteps. “No, Rhett. My dad didn’t mind.”

He nods, the mood heavier, like he realizes why he asked. He’s letting me see so many more pieces of himself that I’m not sure he’s ever shared with anyone. There is so much meaning in that.

“Thank you, Rhett.”

“For what?”

“This.” I shrug. “Us. I like being your friend.”

He looks away. “I like being your friend too.”

I grin. “Good. Because I have an extra special surprise for you today.”

He faces me again. “What is it?”

I look at the time. It’s twelve thirty, so that works. “Come here.” We go to the kitchen, wash our hands, and then I pull a covered container out of my cooler, grab a bag, and set them on the counter.

“Open it.” I motion toward what I brought.

Rhett looks at me funny, but then does as I say, getting out the bag of Ruffles and opening the container of homemade ranch dip.

“Surprise!”

“Ruffles and ranch?”

“Yep. I’ve been saving that one on my list.”

He shakes his head but can’t hide the grin. Christ, Rhett has a beautiful smile. So fucking honest and emotional. I love that I can make him do it, love that I get to see it.

“I don’t understand you.”

“Yeah, but you like me.”

“Which I’ve said before.”

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