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We don’t look at each other as we walk, but he touches my shoulder gently and gestures me across his body. He moves me to the opposite side of him before taking up position by the road.
There’s something about a man who is damn good at what he does that holds an appeal for me. Every step is sure. Practiced. Full of confidence.
“Careful. Your dad told me to keep my hands off you.” “Yeah, well, he didn’t tell me to keep my hands off you.”
Beau can fucking wash it, put that military clean streak of his to use for flirting with my babysitter right in front of me.
“Keep me posted on how riding the cowboy goes.”
🤠
“What the hell is the cowboy hat rule?” “You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.”
Yes please
“I don’t want it, Rhett. I want you.”
If Summer’s jealousy were water, I’d want to bathe in it. “No, Princess. Watching you get jealous over me is victory enough for a simple man like me.
“Handle you? Rhett Eaton, I don’t think anyone can truly handle you. I’m just along for the ride.”
“I want to be poor and have you pissing me off for years to come.”
Choosing each other. Finding each other. Showing up for each other. And everything about the moment is flawless.
“Woman, I’m wiping you with a hot washcloth after sex. That’s how much I love you.”
