Page 63 of Playing Dirty
But as I turned back toward the house, I couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere behind all that charm, Rhett was playing a longer game.
I was halfway through my second cup of coffee when I heard a truck pulling up out front. Through the window, Sawyer’s truck eased in beside Rhett’s, dust curling around it in the morning sun.
Rhett glanced over his shoulder at me. “That’ll be Sawyer.”
Before I could ask why that warranted the look he gave me—somewhere between warning and don’t-ask—he was already heading for the porch. I lingered at the table a minute, listening as the front door swung shut behind him.
Voices carried in the quiet. Not loud, but the kind of low, tight tones men use when they don’t want to be overheard.
“…time to make a move…” That was Sawyer, his voice clipped.
“…too much risk if she’s here…” Rhett, lower, but I caught it anyway.
My pulse tripped.
I stood, drifting toward the doorway like I wasn’t trying to listen—but I was.
“…Colt’s in. Said Tessa can help, and Dalia can watch the twins…” Sawyer again.
The words hung there, heavy and unfinished. My mind scrambled to fit them into something harmless. Maybe they were talking about a surprise, or some project that needed doing without me underfoot. But my gut—the same gut that had kept me alive in Matt’s mess—told me it was more.
I grabbed two mugs from the counter and poured fresh coffee, the clink of ceramic loud enough to warn them I was coming. When I stepped out, both men looked up like I’d just interrupted a classified meeting.
“Coffee?” I offered, setting a mug in Rhett’s hand.
“Thanks, darlin’.” He took a sip like it was the most natural thing in the world. Sawyer gave me a nod and a quick smile.
The conversation shifted in a snap—something about the weather, the ranch fence on the north side needing repairs. I nodded like I was buying it, but every nerve in me hummed with the certainty that whatever they’d been talking about before wasn’t for my ears.
Soon, the driveway looked like a family reunion. Tessa’s SUV rolled in with the twins chattering in the backseat, their little faces pressed to the windows. Dalia was in the passenger seat, waving before they’d even come to a stop.
I met them on the porch steps, bracing for the whirlwind once they were released from their car seats.
“Auntieee Callwee!” Charlie hollered before tumbling out of the car and wrapping herself around my legs. Wyatt was right behind, both of them smelling like Tessa’s perfume and juice boxes.
Tessa grinned as she came around the hood. “Hope you’re ready for company, because we’ve decided—Vegas is happening. And we’re coming with you.”
I blinked. “Wait… what?”
“Not to crash your trip,” she said, laughing, “but the timing’s perfect. Dalia’s been dying to see the Bellagio gardens again, and the twins will love it. Plus, Colt says your hotel has free babysitting. We can sneak off for a spa day or two.”
Dalia reached up to squeeze my hand. “It’ll be like old times, honey. Only better.” Her voice went soft at that, the way it always did when she brushed against memories of my mom, who passed years ago.
Sawyer appeared from around the side of the house, his hat tipped back and that sly half-smile in place. “Since Colt is all in, I guess that makes us the three amigos.”
Rhett joined him, leaning on the porch post. They traded a quick look—barely there, but I caught it. The kind of look that saysgood, this works.
I didn’t pay much attention to it. I was too caught up in the talk about Vegas buffets and shows, while the twins tugged at my hands, as if they were worried I might leave without them. Still, beneath the laughter, that earlier porch conversation was a splinter I couldn’t forget.
That night, the bed was a minefield of half-folded clothes, heels I wasn’t sure I’d actually wear, and the suitcase Rhett kept rearranging like I was packing for a covert mission.
“You don’t need six pairs of shoes,” he said, holding up a strappy black sandal like it had personally offended him.
I plucked it out of his hand. “You don’t know what I’ll be wearing.”
He smirked. “I always know exactly what you’re wearing—about ten seconds before I take it off.”
I tossed a rolled-up tank top at his chest, but my laugh came out thinner than I meant. Every time I looked at him, I saw it—that weight in his eyes, the kind you can’t disguise no matter how much you joke around it.
