Flawless (Chestnut Springs, #1)

by Elsie Silver

“I love your freckles,” he murmurs from behind me, the pad of his finger tracing lines across the expanse of my back. “They remind me of all the constellations. Like I could draw lines between them, and pictures would appear.”

He smiles wistfully, observing everyone around the table. “It never mattered whose eyes were on your mom. Because her eyes were always on me.” He pats my shoulder and then leans back into his chair, leaving me staring down at the old oak table beneath my elbows. The lines in the wood a testament to all the meals I’ve had in this exact spot over the course of my life. While lively conversation rolls on around me, I think about my mom. I think about Summer. And when I glance over at her, her eyes are on me.

“People are definitely looking,” she murmurs. I pull one hand up and shuck her chin back toward me. “Good. Let them look.” She just blinks at me. And I hate that anyone has ever made her feel like she isn’t worth being seen with. Like she’s some dirty secret to hide. “They’re going to talk.” “Then let them talk. You know I don’t give a fuck what people think, Summer. And there is no one I’d rather ruin my reputation with.” With one hand still gripping her chin, I kiss her.

When she reaches into the bag, she stills, eyes darting over to me. In a flash, she’s tugging everything out. With the chaps free of the bag, she makes this satisfied little sighing sound. “Rhett.”

“Do you like them?” “Do I like them? Are you kidding me? I love them. But these are from the first rodeo we went to?” I shrug. “Did you order them or something?” “Nope.” “You bought them while we were there?” “Yup.”

I know I need to tell her what this is too. To tell her things I’ve been thinking about. Like that once the season is over, once I’m not a client to her, I’m going to commit my entire off-season to convincing her to give me a shot. A real shot. A shot to be everything.

“Wow,” she breathes, struck by the view. She stops and stares. “Why the hell do you have your coffee downstairs with a view like that?” I watch her as she admires the scenery—the slender column of her neck, the sharp angle of her jaw, dainty ear adorned with an understated gold stud. Summer is all class. All shiny and proper and well-educated. It’s fucking hot. It also makes me want to dirty her up a bit. “The view downstairs has been better lately.”

I’m hit with a realization that sends me reeling. Summer wasn’t just made for me. She’s it for me.

Rhett’s hand bumps against mine as he peers around the restaurant. He’s reached back for me without even looking, possibly without even thinking about it.

“But I want to make one thing clear. I am not possessive. I am protective. And I’ll never stop protecting you. I’d hit that fucker again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping him from talking to you that way.”

You need to figure out what you love and make that your life too.” The only word in my head when that screen door slams behind him is Summer.

“I’m not stupid. I know things are strained between you and Rhett after that explosion. But I also know that men don’t look at a woman the way he looks at you unless they’re out of their goddamn mind for that person. I know you’re so accustomed to pleasing everyone that you give and give until you have nothing left to give. Rhett might be a little rough around the edges, but maybe you smooth him out and he scuffs you up. I don’t know. Only you can make these decisions. But what I saw that night was a man who’d burn everything down to defend you. I saw a man who’d risk it all to take care of you.”

“Please don’t cry. I fucking hate it when you cry. It’s like a bullet to my chest.” “Taken many bullets, have you?” My voice is weak, and I hate that. “No,” he husks, “but I would. For you, I would.”

“Tell me what to do, Summer. Tell me, and I’ll do it. Was I unclear before? Because I want to be crystal clear now. I love you. I loved you the moment you walked into that boardroom and smirked at me like you knew something I didn’t. It bothered me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Wanting to know what you know. I fixated on it, but I think I was just fixated on you.”

“And I still am. I always will be. This thing between us? For me? It’s everything. It’s it. You’re it. I’ve spent years thinking I didn’t have someone who really supported me. But that was only because I hadn’t met you yet. You were out there, wanting me. And all it took was one meeting with you for me to want you too. A few weeks for me to know that I’d do anything to support you too.” He shakes his head and peers out the window. “You were out there this whole time, and now I know you exist, and I can never go back. Wouldn’t want to if I could.”

“So, take your time. Do what you need to. Carry on with the cold shoulder, hate me, make a voodoo doll and needle the hell out of it. I don’t fucking care. I’ll take it all. Just think about what I’m telling you. Think about being everything with me. I’ll keep coming back, no matter what. You’re my priority. I’ll keep trying because I’m not quitting on you. Ever.”

“No one. I’m booking us flights.” I snort. She’s always making shit like this up to throw me off. “Oh, yeah? Pray tell, bestie. Where are we going? Mexico? Ooh. A weekend in Paris? We can drink wine by the Eiffel Tower.” “You have expensive taste for an unemployed person.” “Please don’t remind me of that.” “We’re going to Vegas.”

My eye catches on a flash of white, and the world around me goes fuzzy. Summer’s here. She’s wearing a white linen dress and sticks out like a sore fucking thumb. My sore fucking thumb.

All I can do is stare back. I’m always fucking staring at her. I want to spend the rest of my life staring at her. Then she mouths, I love you.

Choosing each other. Finding each other. Showing up for each other. And everything about the moment is flawless.

I want her with me all the time. It’s fucking consuming. But she’s my favorite human in the world. After a certain amount of time together, other people usually get on my nerves. But not Summer. She’s my person. And I’m hers. Two halves of the same whole.

I drop to one knee and hold up the ring in my hand—a canary solitaire with smaller diamond points to make it look like a star—and I might as well be holding up my heart. Because this girl owns every bit of me. And she has from the first day she smirked at me.