Page 73 of Playing Dirty
“Not taking chances,” he fired back. “I’ll wake up one morning and the living room’ll be flamingo pink, the guest bathroom’ll be bubblegum, and I’ll be forced to sell the place just to keep my reputation intact.”
I pressed a hand to my chest, feigning offense. “First of all, bubblegum bathroom sounds amazing. And second, don’t tempt me. I might just paint the bedroom blush, throw in some ruffles, really lean into it.”
Rhett groaned dramatically and tipped his head back. “You’d kill me.”
“You’d survive,” I teased, tracing a finger down his chest. “Barely. But it would be worth it.”
“Woman,” he said, shaking his head, “I swear you’re trying to break me.”
“And yet you still asked me to move in.”
He smirked and leaned down. “Guess I like the idea of risking it all for you.”
His lips had just brushed mine when the trill of my phone on the counter broke the spell.
I sighed and pulled back, mumbling, “Saved by the bell.”
“Or robbed,” Rhett muttered, nipping my jaw once before letting me slip out of his arms.
I padded over and glanced at the screen. Emma. My thumb hesitated a beat before I answered. “Hey, Emma.”
“Callie, thank goodness you picked up.” Her voice rushed out like she’d been holding her breath. “I never got that letter from Frontier Market for the centennial celebration, and we’re running out of time. Do you—do you have any other ideas?”
I could feel Rhett’s gaze on me from across the room. He leaned against the counter, arms folded, that infuriating half-smile already tugging at his mouth like he was listening to every word.
I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Yeah, I think so. What if we track down some vintage vehicles, wagons, old farm implements—the kind of things they used back when Lovelace was first settled? It could give people something tangible to connect with the past.”
Emma gasped. “That’s brilliant. Exactly the kind of thing we need. You’d really do that?”
“Of course.” I smiled, glancing at Rhett, who was already nodding like he’d signed himself up before I’d even finished the sentence. “I’ll talk to Rhett about it tonight.”
“I owe you one,” Emma said with relief. “I’ll let the board know we’ve got a new plan.”
“Glad I could help. Talk soon.”
I hung up, setting the phone aside. Rhett hadn’t moved, still leaning there with that smug look.
“You just volunteered us, darlin’,” Rhett drawled.
I crossed my arms, arching a brow. “And you’re nodding like you loved every second of it.”
He chuckled, that deep, satisfied rumble that always made my chest tighten. “Guilty.”
For a moment, we just stood there, the house quiet around us. My phone still rested on the counter, but my mind was already racing with wagon wheels and rusted plows, the scent of fresh paint still clinging to the walls we’d been talking about earlier.
“Feels good,” I said softly.
Rhett tilted his head. “What does?”
“Having a place that’s ours. A home. A…a purpose again.” I shrugged, trying not to sound too sentimental, but he didn’t tease.
Instead, he stepped close, his thumb brushing over my jaw in that way that always unraveled me. “Told you. You belong here.”
I let myself lean into him, just for a heartbeat, soaking in his steady warmth.
Then he cleared his throat and pulled back, mischief sparking in his eyes. “C’mon. I’ve got something to show you in the garage.”
I gave him a mock suspicious look. “This better not be another lesson in colors I’m not allowed to use.”
