Page 74 of How Dare You
“I don’t trust him, Dev,” I say. “He’s never spoken well about you, which I’ve put him in his place about on numerous occasions. When all this happened, he was too close to it for it to be a coincidence.”
“I kind of thought that too,” she says, lying back down on my chest. “I wonder what I ever did that would make him want to hurt me like that.”
“Nothing.” My voice comes out harsher than intended. “You did nothing to deserve that.”
“You’re right,” she says, some of the usual power I’m used to hearing from her returning to her voice. “As Allie likes to say, fuck that guy.”
“Why are you so adorable when you swear?” I laugh, tucking a finger under her chin to draw her up for a soft kiss.
“Can’t help it,” she shrugs, giggling.
“Speaking of Allie, did you tell her I quit working with Trina? She was probably thrilled.”
Just enough moonlight trickles into the room to let me see Devon as she tilts her head to bring us eye to eye. “She did seem unusually happy about that. Why?”
My fingers trail across her back. “She’s been telling me for months that if I want to be with you, I need take away the thing that’s keeping us apart.”
“Wait, what?” she asks. Devon’s confused enough that Allie must not have told her anything about those conversations.
“You said you wouldn’t date me because we work in the same industry.” Devon cringes at the reminder. “Allie pointed out that you’d given me a good reason, and if I wanted you, I needed to make that reason go away.”
“That meddling little brunette,” Devon mutters, tucking my hair behind my ear. I lean into her soft touch. “Rhett, you don’t actually have to give up your career for me. That’s absurd.”
“It’s a little absurd.” I answer, phrasing my next statement as carefully as possible. “But I’m open to it.”
“Well, you don’t have to be,” she says, pressing her lips to mine and then lying back down on my chest. Her breathing slows, and right before she dozes off, she sleepily says, “Thank you for being here when I needed you.”
Chapter 30
Devon
*Call your mother. You can do it.
- From Devon’s to-do list, September 7th
The rear hatch of my SUV snicks softly shut. Fortunately, I keep a workout bag in my trunk, so I get to run on my new favorite path before I head back into town. There isn’t a quiet way to close the trailer door, no matter how hard I try, so it wakes Rhett when I come inside to change.
“You leaving?” his groggy voice asks.
I start to peel off the pajamas he so tenderly dressed me in last night. “Not yet; just going for a run before work.”
“Hmm,” he leans forward to the end of the bed when I pull off the boxers lent me, leaving me in the middle of the trailer’s walkway wearing nothing but my panties.
“You got something to say, McCoy?” I tease.
“No, ma’am. Just enjoying the show.” He says, his southern drawl even thicker right after he’s woken up.
“I bet you are.” I smirk at him.
“Do I get to make you breakfast this morning?” he asks, running his hands through his sleep-mussed hair.
“Well, about that,” I drag out my answer long enough to let myself finish getting dressed. “I do love breakfast. And you’re very good at breakfast. The tacos are really something.” His lips draw together and his brow furrows. I sit down to put on my shoes. “But you see, I don’t have a lot of time this morning. Need to get into the office pretty early. I’m feeling better after you listened to me last night.” I switch to my other foot, and he smiles at me. “But I still have a lot of work to do to save Friday West. Which, I’m confident about again.”
I walk over to him, cupping my hands under his jaw and drawing him up for a slow, sensual kiss. His hands fly to my waist, drawing me back into bed with him. I pull back. “I was hoping you’d meet me in the shower after my run, but if we do that, there won’t be any time for breakfast.”
His brows fly up and he rocks forward, picking me up and dropping me back on my feet. He spins me around and pats my ass, leaning down to speak into my ear. “Get to it, then. I can make breakfast to-go. How long till you’re back?”
My original intention was to run at least five or six miles, but I don’t want to make either of us last that long. “Be back in thirty,” I say, hurrying out the door.