Page 55 of Back in the Country
The truck is barely in park before he’s climbing out onto the driveway. I move without thinking as I meet him a few steps from the porch. We shake hands and I pull him in to me. I hold him in a one-armed hug for a beat longer than normal, because the relief at having him home feels like an adrenaline dump after a marathon.
There’s a lot of emotion in that moment, but it’s gone in a flash. Sorren’s grin is everything when he climbs up the front steps. He shakes his head and then pauses before opening the front door.
“Be good to her, okay? Tell her…”—his words trail off as he runs a hand over his short hair—“I’ll talk to her soon.”
“Always. And she’ll love that.”
The drive to my trailer is quick, but it still feels like an eternity until I see my girl.
Opening the door, I sweep inside with a flourish. She’s sitting on my couch, her blue light glasses perched on her nose as she watches me with a small but sad smile.
“Did you have fun with my brother?” I don’t ask how she knows I was with Sorren.
“I told him about us. I mean, he already knew, but he’s good with it.” I swallow. “He said he’d talk to you soon.”
“Really?” Her voice is full of so much hope it makes my heart squeeze.
“Really.”
Discarding my boots at the door, I keep my eyes trained on her until I’m seated on the couch.
“Save it,” I murmur and then deposit her computer on the coffee table before pulling her into my lap.
“And you were worried Sorren wouldn’t approve,” she teases.
Truth is, Ihavebeen worried, and I can’t adequately explain my relief at having his blessing, so I do what I do best. My lips descend on hers in a sweet, slow kiss as she wraps her arms around my neck.
I wasn’t kidding when I said she means everything to me. She’s every sunrise and sunset of every day of my life.
22
MARLEE
Despite Waylon’s reassurance that Sorren is going to reach out, it still hasn’t happened, and I am practically crawling out of my skin. I need a distraction and some time to clear my head. I’ve never had a lot of girlfriends growing up and that has, unsurprisingly, carried into my adult life.
I’ve always been one of the boys and I never apologize for it, but right now, I need a girls’ night. There is only so much time I can spend in front of my computer before social interaction becomes a necessity.
Finishing up my work, I put everything away before grabbing my overnight bag and a plethora of snacks and heading out the door. I’ve invited Cheyenne and myself over to Rhea’s apartment, and I am excited so spend time with them now that I am home.
The ride there is thankfully uneventful, and after parking my car, I knock and then walk into Rhea’s living room. While the outside is white painted brick with blue shutters, the inside is all Rhea. It’s a cute little apartment with two bedrooms, one full bath, and an adorable powder room that she has painted a bold shade of violet.
Each room is cozy and put together the same way that Rhea bakes—with love. Bright-colored walls, soft pillows, and framed photos make the space feel simultaneously like a funky magazine spread and alsohome.I always feel welcome here, and it is exactly what I need.
“Hey girl,” Rhea says from the kitchen. She is stirring something on the stove that smells sweet and decadent.
Dropping my duffle on the floor and my shopping bags on the counter, I take a seat across from her on one of the breakfast stools.
“What are you making?” I pop a strawberry into my mouth from the nicely arranged plate next to her, and she mock scowls.
“Keep your paws off the fruit until the chocolate is ready.”
I lean closer and watch as she gently stirs the mixture until all the lumps are gone and only a deliciously smooth yumminess remains.
“I made us a girls’ night playlist.”
“I can’t wait to see what’s on there.” Rhea chuckles and I scoff at her as I cue up the first song through the wireless speaker.
“I have great taste in music,” I huff as the opening chords of “Shut Up and Dance With Me”by Walk the Moon fill the apartment.
