Page 63 of The Nice Guy
“I will pay for dry cleanin’. Or a new dress. God, I am so sorry, Brynlee,” Gemma says.
My shoulders shake as the laughter starts in my stomach and bubbles up. “What’s the quickest route outside to shake off?” I ask.
“I’ll take you,” Rhett says, taking my hand to guide me.
Outside, I shake like a dog coming in from the rain, and we both brush off as much flour as possible from my dress. “Your mom should really rethink having a giant bowl of flour on the counter with rambunctious kids running around,” I say, my laughter taking over.
“You’re not mad?”
“This only happens in cartoons. I’m a cartoon right now,” I say and bend over, holding my sides as tears fill my eyes from laughing so hard. A nice distraction from my angry tears minutes ago. “Oh, my sides hurt. This is amazing.”
Rhett laughs, too, and he leans against the railing of the deck. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine. But none of us will ever forget this day,” I say.
“No, we won’t,” he says, and there’s a tone in his voice. One that tells me there’s more to this than just flour covering me.
He walks inside before I can ask him, and I wonder what else could shake whatever’s bothering him if this ridiculous scene didn’t do it. I hope he talks to me soon because it’s becoming difficult not to feel like I’ve done something wrong.
Chapter Twenty
Rhett
No matter how frustrated I may be that Brynlee’s still marrying that guy from Chicago, I have to admit that I’m impressed at how well she handled the mishap in Mom’s kitchen.
It disappeared the moment Mom pulled me aside after dinner to tell me she loves Brynlee. She grilled her like all the other prospective in-laws, and she did the best out of everyone. Itkicked me in the gut because introducing her to the family ensures I’m not the only one hurt when she goes back and marries another man.
“We can go to my house,” Brynlee says from the passenger side of my pickup.
I don’t reach out for her hand, and she sits on the far side of the seat. Even though I know it’s for the best, I don’t like the distance. The distanceI’vecreated.
“My house is closer,” I say. “Plus, I’d rather we get my house dirty instead of yours. You’ve gone through enough.”
“I haven’t seen your house yet. You always stay at mine. Except last night.”
“Yours is nicer,” I say, putting the truck into park and ignoring the last statement.
She turns and looks at me. “Rhett, what’s wrong? I know it’s not work. I know it’s me. Please, tell me what’s wrong so we can fix it.”
I could just tell her. To get the truth, but I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet, even though I know I’m acting like a jackass. The moment she knows I know, she won’t have any reason to stay.Not that she has one to stay with the way I’m acting as it is.
“It’s nothin’.”
Stepping out of the cab, I walk up the front steps and realize Brynlee’s not behind me. I turn to find her still sitting in the pickup. She looks upset, and I feel like a jerk. The biggest jerk.
I walk back down the steps and open her door. “Brynlee—”
“Please bring me home, Rhett.”
“You’re covered in flour.”
Swallowing, she looks at her feet rather than me. “That’s fine. It’s not that bad, and my house is cleanable. It’s just flour. They didn’t tar and feather me.”
“I would feel too guilty. Especially after my family caused this.”
“I don’t think you should have brought me in the first place,” she says, still refusing to look at me. “It’s obvious you didn’t want me there, so please just take me home.”
My heart breaks as I look at her, but it’s immediately replaced by anger. How can she be in so much pain considering she has two men? She’s the one who’s playingme.
