Page 40 of Rhett

I snicker. “Point proven.” I ruffle Meadow’s hair. “Hey, kid. How was your day?” Talking about our days is something we always do. It’s important to me to connect with her in every way I can.

“Good. Jasmine has a crush, but I’m probably not supposed to tell you that. I got an A on my essay, and Rhett’s been helping me with schoolwork. How was your day?”

“Mine was busy and boring, but I got all the supplies Rhett and I will need, so that’s a plus.” I turn to him and cross my arms. “And how was your day?”

“Oh. Good. I, um…went to an appointment, to the store, and then picked up Meadow. She showed me her sewing room.”

“Spoiled,” I joke. “The kid has a sewing store in her home.”

“She said the same thing.”

“Eh, well, at least she acknowledges it.” I pull a container out of the bag. “I hope you like cheese ravioli. It’s our favorite. She can eat her weight in ravioli.”

“Gee, thanks, Dad,” Meadow teases, and I laugh. “I’ll clean up our mess.” She starts grabbing her school stuff while I unload the food.

“Can I do something? Get the plates?” Rhett asks.

“Yep. Cabinet right behind you, and the cutlery is below it.”

He pulls out three of each and sets them on the table, while I open the containers, then throw away the bags.

“Thanks for grabbing her, and for sticking around until I got home. It was sneaky, but I found a way to get you to hang out with us again.”

He shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “You could have just asked.”

“Would you have come?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, and damn if it doesn’t tug at my heart.

“You’re here now.” I open the fridge and pull out a beer, wine, and the sparkling cider. Once I dig the cork out, I pour Rhett a glass of the white wine. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.”

“Wow. Dad is pretending he has manners,” Meadow teases.

“Hey, brat. I have manners.”

She shrugs. “Sometimes.”

I pour her drink next, putting it in a wineglass like Rhett’s, then open my bottle of beer.

We sit at the table together and begin dishing out ravioli and taking pieces of garlic bread. “Name something you’re grateful for, ready, set, go,” I tell Meadow.

“I’m thankful Rhett is here,” she says, smiling at him. His gaze is flickering back and forth between us like he’s not sure what to think.

“Hey, you stole mine. I’m thankful Rhett is here too.” I turn to him. “Your turn.”

“Can I steal your answer? Because I’m thankful I’m here as well.”

“We’ll let it slide this time. But next time, you’re going first.”

“Next time?”

“Oh yeah.” I grin, really fucking hoping there will be a next time. Probably more than I should. The fact that I went to Archer about Rhett is proof enough that I’m in over my head. It’s difficult because I have my fears of anything beyond friendship, but I’m also not the type to run. Archer was right about that. I stick around. I deal with whatever life throws at me, and I make the best of the situation. That’s who I am to the marrow of my bones, but when it comes to my interest in Rhett, I’m…stumped.

We eat and laugh together. Rhett is quieter than Meadow and me, but he watches us a lot…and smiles. I’m not sure I’ve seen Rhett grin so much in one day before. A smiling Rhett Swift is an incredible thing to witness.

When Meadow brings up her future plans to move to New York City, Rhett asks her, “You’ve been before?”

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