Page 46 of South of The Skyway

“Baby, if it’s the difference between getting to enjoy your company, and not, you can call us whatever you want.”

NINETEEN

BREXLEY

Thunder rolled, and my windows rattled, the flash striking through the space like a blade. I swirled the merlot in a steady circle, snuggling tighter into my chunky knit cardigan. What I would give to have an entire quarter of the year to wear my cozy clothes, not just the occasional storm that fought a cold front into submission. Muscles sore from my daily run, I stretched and twisted, wishing my mind would take a break. Hell, my mind was why I was sore in the first place–its persistent bunny trail back to Rhyett was why I’d done twice my usual distance.

I’d tried to sleep, but every time my eyes closed, they were painted with an image of blue eyes and sun-kissed skin coated with beads of fresh spring water. Warm, hard muscles tucked between my legs, the heady taste of summer and—

A clap of thunder jerked me present. Rhyett. The phone call had been a mistake. I knew it before his voice had even cracked across the speaker. Not entirely sure of what I’d been doing, my breath hitched when he answered.

Companionship on my terms. That’s the offer he’d left on the table.

Who the hell was this man? Rhyett said we could take it slow—get to know each other—or pick up where we’d left off in the spring. Either way, it was up to me. Never in my life had I heard of an offer like that. Friends with benefits? I guess, sure: Vallie had one of those in college. But friends with benefits with a lease-to-buy option?

Another flash of lightning filled the night, and I took a sip of the smooth liquid. A monsoon-level downpour crashed against the earth, and I thanked my lucky stars that I wasn’t trapped on the road. As much as his proposal to watch the storm in his RV on a quiet property beside a fireplace sounded idyllic, that damn bridge was terrifying enough in pleasant weather. This was anything but.

Nevertheless, I wanted more of him. More to taste and touch. More of his laugh in my ribs and hands on my skin.

Jesus, Brex. Pull it together.

I glanced at the clock, realizing it was later than Noel usually called, and quickly texted to check on her. The response bubble appeared and vanished twice, for good the second time. That was weird. Something was going on with her, and so help me, if Eric was anything less than princely, I’d happily dig a six-foot hole. Hell, I’d just see if Rhyett had hogs on that little farm of his. The only reason I tolerated Mr. Ostentatious was that he made her smile.

Robby had never made me smile like Noel did. But Rhyett…the man had me beaming and laughing in the first twenty-four hours. My brain couldn’t decide if that was acceptable or not. Nerves in my throat, I checked my phone only to decide I was pathetic, entering the spiral of self-loathing when disappointment greeted the empty screen. I tossed the damn thing onto the couch with a roll of my eyes, stood, closed the curtains and retrieved my book off the coffee table before heading to bed.

The male main character was twelve kinds of dreamy. But as I drifted off to sleep, it was Rhyett that I thought of.

* * *

“You know what’s highly impractical?”

“Hmm?” Noel said from one stall over.

“Tarzan.”

Her laugh burst out like it snuck up on her. “What?”

“I mean, I’m all for unlikely love stories, but what woman in her right mind would willingly leave indoor plumbing and running water to live in the jungle?” I wiggled the dress over my head as I shifted it into place.

“Agreed,” Josie said from my opposite side.

“No abs are worth that,” Vallie’s voice trailed from across the aisle. “You know what else is impractical? This freaking outfit.”

We’d all had high hopes for the new spring line, yet as I turned this way and that, studying the unflattering fabric that somehow gathered across my belly, I scowled. Evidently we were all striking out.

“Seriously, there’s a fine line between prison jumpsuit and fashion jumper. Ugh–this one gives me camel toe. Damn Viking genetics.” Noel sighed pointedly. For a woman of average height, she had an abnormally long torso, and it posed problems any time we were hunting for one-piece outfits. Swimsuits were worse. “Whyyyy did we need extra ribs in the North? Everything fits me in width, except they’re way too short.”

“Shut up, I’d pay for your waist,” Vallie said, a bit out of breath like her garment was wrestling her. I slipped out of the dress, frowning as I re-hung it.

“And I’d kill for your curves,” Noel shot back with a laugh. “Some of us are freaking rectangles. Slap a cap on and I’d pass as a boy. Pull aMulan.”

Vallie’s retort was cut off by Josie’s squeal of excitement. “Oooh! Can I wear this color?” The sound of four sets of creaking hinges in synchronized motion filled the space as we all popped our heads out, Josie stepping into the aisle in a lavender wrap top with a plunging v-neckline.

“Dayyum,” Noel said, eyes going wide.

“Yeah?!” Josie asked, rising on her tiptoes excitedly.

Vallie grinned, “Um,yeah. You look gorgeous.”

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