Page 57 of Forty and Fighting Dirty
The moment my hand touched his chest, the temperature in the kitchen spiked. The air buzzed around us, and Rhett took ahalf step closer to cage me against the cabinets. My heart felt like a trapped bird. My hand dropped from his chest, but it didn’t matter. He was so close that his thighs brushed mine, and when he moved his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, all I wanted to do was lean into the touch.
Then he said the worst possible thing he could have said. In a low voice, he murmured, “I don’t want you to get hurt, Piper.”
Yearning rose up within me with such speed that I had to grip the countertop to stay steady. A boulder lodged itself in my throat, and I stared at the open neck of Rhett’s jacket to try to gather my wits.
I could deal with him when he was arrogant and charming and wearing that fake, man-of-the-people smile. It was easy to keep him at arm’s length, to dismiss the force of his presence and the reaction my body had to him. When he acted like that—the way he acted most of the time, around most people—Rhett was just another man who thought he could do what he wanted, when he wanted.
But when he looked at me like this, with concern and tenderness that seemed far too genuine, it knocked me off-balance and made me remember that I was all alone.
I’d been alone for a long time.
The divorce, the custody battle, the move—all of it had felt like taking a little dinghy out to the open ocean and asking the heavens to batter me with storm after storm. But I’d gotten through it, because I knew it was for the best. I drew on my own strength, my own energy reserves, and I poured everything I had into making sure my boys were okay. I would be the strong, stable support that they needed. I would make sure they didn’tgrow up in a house with parents who hated each other. I would be a role model, and I’d make sure they were happy, healthy, and thriving.
But I’d done it alone. I’d had no choice.
And before that, I’d been alone in my marriage. I’d fought and begged and wheedled to make Jacob into a partner. I’d tried playing by his rules to see if he’d finally respect me. I tried pushing back and taking up more space. I tried asking for help and going on housework strikes. None of it worked. He never looked at me and said,You’re worth the effort. I want to make this work. I love you.
Now my boss, a man who wore a thousand faces depending on the situation, his audience, and his mood, was making me feel vulnerable and raw. I couldn’t stand it.
My boys saved me once again, just like they’d saved me from staying in a bad marriage by pushing me to want better for them. This time, it wasn’t anything so dramatic. They simply burst through the back door, bearing treasures they’d found in the backyard.
“Mom!” Alec cried. “We found stuff for my diorama project!”
“Show me,” I said, slithering away from Rhett to go to my sons. They held out their treasures—pine cones, sticks, various leaves, a bit of moss—and Alec explained how he planned to arrange it.
“I need a box, Mom,” he said. “Did you find one?”
In the move, I’d gotten rid of all the old shoeboxes that had been hanging around the house. Everything that hadn’t been absolutely necessary had been tossed. We’d moved to LoversPeak without much more than a few suitcases. “I’ll find you one,” I told him. “Maybe we can stop at a shoe store in town and see if they have any they can give us.”
“I’ve got a shoebox,” Rhett said from behind me.
The boys perked up. “Really?” Alec asked, brightening.
“Yeah. I should have some glue in my toolbox too. You could get started on your project while your mom and I work on the house.”
“Can I help with the house?” Nate asked.
“How’s the arm feeling?” Rhett asked in response, nodding to the sling strapping Nate’s forearm to his chest. His ankle had healed within a few days, but the cast would stay for a while yet.
“It’s fine,” Nate replied, all bravado. “I can help.”
“All right. We’ll find something for you to do,” Rhett replied. “Come on. And you, Darling,” he said, flicking those dark eyes over to meet mine, “you can grab my ladder from the back of the truck.”
I pursed my lips, but I was still feeling shaky and didn’t trust myself to respond. The four of us tromped outside in single file, and then Nate and Alec ran ahead toward Rhett’s truck. I called at them to slow down so close to the road, but it was Rhett who took charge and wrangled them properly.
“Alec, I need your help with this while I dig out that shoebox,” he said, handing items out of the back of the cab for Alec to hold. “Nate,” he said, “see that bucket up there in the truck bed?” He waited for Nate to nod. “See if you can grab it, but don’t knock your arm.”
The boys jumped to do as he said, and within minutes, Alec had his shoebox and Nate had a bucket that came up above hisknee. They stood at attention while Rhett took off the ratchet straps holding down his ladder and retrieved his toolbox.
I watched, and for just a moment, I saw Rhett in a different light. When he wasn’t trying to ingratiate himself with everyone, he was magnetic. He grinned at Nate and ruffled Alec’s hair, and the boys glowed under his attention. Nate told him his current favorite joke (Knock knock! Who’s there? Atish. Atish who? Bless you!) and Rhett laughed in that unguarded, genuine way that sent shivers all the way down to my toes.
“Help me with this ladder, Darling,” he said, and the two of us carried the ladder inside while the boys ran ahead. Rhett had his toolbox in his other hand, which he set down by the front door before taking the ladder from my grasp. He unfolded it and set it up where I’d been standing on the counters, then looked at Nate, who was wandering around, still holding that bucket.
“You’re with me, kid,” he said. “You think you can carry that bucket up and down the stairs?”
“Duh,” Nate replied.
“I want to carry the bucket,” Alec complained, clutching the shoebox under his arm. He’d stashed his finds from the forest in the box.
