Page 8 of Four Dates and A Forever
“There’s three bathrooms. Why are you trying to make a big deal out of this?” Again, his brothers exchanged the same look, like he was missing the punchline. “Since when do you guys hold back?”
“Since she nearly wrecked you,” Gage said lowly, knowing how hard of a decision it had been for Rhett to walk away.
While his brothers knew about his fling with Elsie, Gage was the sole person who knew just how deep Rhett’s time with Elsie had been. Gage had known something was up, so Rhett had confided in him about the weekend. Not about the sex, but about their insane connection. He’d also confided his reasoning for walking away.
“You have this amazing opportunity,” Gage had told him. “An opportunity some of us will never have. Don’t waste it.”
But Rhett had brushed it off, citing his upcoming college tour as an excuse. Gage told him he’d regret the decision and Rhett had. Then he’d run into Axel and Elsie, and regret didn’t even begin to describe how he’d felt.
“That was a long time ago.” When he’d been young and naive and believed in things like love and commitment. “I’m looking for some peace and quiet.” And wasn’t that a damn shame. For a guy who couldn’t wait to have kids and start a family, he’d sure become one cynical son of a bitch. Case in point, his unwillingness to get involved with a woman beyond one night.
After his divorce, he’d promised himself time to figure out who the hell he was minus a plus-one. He wasn’t sure if it was a forever commitment, but he wasn’t sure how to mingle his life with someone else and not lose sight of what was important—his music. He also wasn’t sure if he trusted his gut anymore. He’d put everything into his marriage, praying it was enough, but he was left wondering what the hell went wrong.
“The offer still stands,” Gage said. “Say the word and Darcy will make up the guest room.”
“And your kids? Hard pass.” Not that he didn’t love his nieces, but the new twins were double the troublemakers, double the giggles, and double the sticky little hands that woke him up at five in the morning when they crawled into his bed. Then there were the diapers—a tour bus full of diapers.
Rhett had six weeks to pull his shit together, do whatever it took to get his sponsor behind the upcoming tour, then head back to LA to record the master tape of the new album. First though, he had to write the album and that wasn’t going to happen if he didn’t maintain focus.
“I need my own space right now.” When Gage started to argue, Rhett held up a silencing finger. “A quiet space.”
“You sure?” Gage asked, and the only one who seemed sure was Rhett. Which gave him pause.
“It was a long time ago.”
Gage didn’t look so convinced. He was the one person who knew just how messed up Rhett had been over Elsie and Axel back in the day. Even though the entire thing had felt like a bait and switch, Rhett had decided to be the bigger man.
“I’ll take my luck with Elsie. At least I’ll get some room to myself and some peace and quiet.” As much as he could without wondering what she was doing or feeling—or wearing. Hell, he couldn’t get that silky pink number out of his head.
“Be careful. She’s getting out of a divorce and if she’s anything like Jillian,” Clay said, referring to his live-in girlfriend, “she’ll be pretty vulnerable for some time.”
“Vulnerable? She nearly electrocuted my nuts.”
“He just means to tread lightly,” Gage said. “For the both of you.”
The only interest Rhett had in Elsie was helping her find another place to live. Preferably a place in a different zip code.
Chapter Three
Dating Tips from Elsie Dodd
Meet someone the old-fashioned way.
Through alcohol and poor judgment.
The force of thumping bass and rowdy laughter nearly blasted Rhett back when he opened the front door. Women were everywhere, all dressed to impress, filling the main living space, which had been transformed into a night club with penis-inspired decorations strewn about.
Personally, Rhett did not see the point of a divorce party if the attendees were taking their drinks from penis-shaped shot glasses, but what did he know?
“Well, shit,” he mumbled. He’d been sure that the party would have broken up by this hour. There was no way he was going to sleep through the noise. Then again, he’d said he wanted to go to his bed; he hadn’t specified alone. And with at least thirty women at his fingertips—odds dictated that at least half were single—his night was looking up.
Rhett liked women. All kinds of women. He liked the way they smelled, the way they felt, the way they sounded calling out his name. He especially liked the last part.
He scanned the crowd looking for a new bed-buddy when he spotted the one woman he couldn’t like—not in that way.
Elsie.
She was next to the bar in a short black dress—emphasis on short—with mile-high heels and a sash that readDick-Free Diet. Unlike earlier, her wavy red hair was twisted into some complicated knot at the base of her neck, with little wisps around her face that had escaped the confines. Her shoulders were bare, her breasts on glorious display, and her ass—that heart-shaped ass—was swaying back and forth to the music. Then there was her smile, big and bright and relaxed, yet somehow sad.
