Eventually, I hear the back door slam and heavy footfalls traveling in my direction. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of his frame. His broad shoulders, his unruly hair, and dark scruff. You’d have to be dead to not appreciate a man like Rhett Eaton. He’s not pretty and polished. He’s rugged and a little rough around the edges. He’s all man. One hundred percent different from any man I’ve met.
