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“Must be all that milk you drink. No broken bones for the world-famous Rhett Eaton.”
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.
Summer: Want to come to the gym with me? It will be good for you. You can’t just lie around all week. Rhett: Are you my new personal trainer now too? Summer: Will that make you feel better about me being here? Rhett: Maybe. Summer: Well, then, I’m whatever you want me to be. Rhett: That’s a dangerous thing to say.
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. His warm-brown leather chaps, with darkened spots from wear, match his eyes. They’re the color of the tiger’s-eye stones I liked as a child. Bright and shiny, perfectly polished. The collar of his dark blue shirt rubs against
“And of course, I know who you are. Summer had your Wranglers ad plastered on her bedroom wall for years.”
“Are you hiding because your sister is a grade A bitch or because I now know that I’m your teenaged spank bank fodder?”
“Can we please pretend that never happened?” Her palms muffle her voice. I grin and shake my head, crossing my arms, irrationally pleased with the whole thing. “Not a fuckin’ chance, Princess.”
“I’m finding I don’t really care what people think where you’re concerned.”
His pinky finger wraps around mine tenderly before he moves his hand to the small of my back, guiding me safely across the road and making my chest flutter. He’s joking. But I did imagine a wedding night with
Summer: Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m at the staff meeting. I trust you to hold it together for one afternoon. Rhett: Shit, Princess. I don’t know. I might go crazy without you. Summer: For ducks’ sake. Summer: Duck Summer: *Duck Summer: FUCK. Ugh. Why can’t my phone learn that word? I’ll be back around dinnertime. Rhett: Quack.
When the man realizes he’s standing in the middle of two people eyeing each other like they might set one another on fire with the power of their sight alone, he straightens up. I catch him peeking at us, head swiveling as he peers at each of us. When
“Go to bed, Summer.” I snap back, surprised by what he’s saying. “Go to bed?” “Yes. Before I do something distinctly ungentlemanlike to you.” My brows shoot up, taken aback by his directness. “Like what?” My voice
“I’d start with those pretty fucking lips.”
I opt to take the bull by the horns. With one step forward, my hand darts out and I yank the saddle-brown cowboy hat off his head and place it on mine. His leather and licorice scent rushes in around me, and I sigh.
“Having you think I’m out fucking everything that moves when I’ve looked at nothing and no one since the first day I laid eyes on you. I stepped into that godforsaken boardroom, and you practically demanded I become obsessed with you.”
“Good girl. You wish that was my cum, don’t you?”
“Swallow, Summer.”
“Now, tell me honestly, Summer. If this were your last moment on earth, what would you want me to do?” I don’t even need to think about it. I know what I want from him. “Ruin me.” “Good. I’m about fucking done being a gentleman with you. And the only thing I’m ruining you for is anyone else.” He
“Rhett.” My name on her lips. Fuck. It’s a prayer. It’s a plea. It’s my goddamn undoing.
Rhett Eaton. My teenaged crush. Rhett Eaton. Sex symbol. Rhett Eaton. Ladies’ man.
“Tell me why you want it, Summer.” His voice is gruff, with a bite that wasn’t there before. It.
It hits me that he talks about himself like a commodity. Maybe
“I don’t want it, Rhett. I want you.”
“I’m tired of doing what I should and ignoring what I want. And what I want is you. Inside me. All around me. I want you with me. And I want to be the only one.”
“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.”
We’ve spent the last few days stealing kisses in the hallway. Or driving my old truck out into the field to sink into each other under the open sky. It’s romantic as fuck. It’s also the best sex I’ve ever had. While I’ve mostly convinced Summer
“Show me the chaps.” I take a step back and point at the custom leather in her hand. Summer turns to face me.
“I think I’ve wasted enough time with men who aren’t good enough to know that you are better than good. More than enough.”
“What a good fucking girl you are. Fucking your fingers while I fuck your throat.”
I’m hit with a realization that sends me reeling. Summer wasn’t just made for me. She’s it for me.
But the new girl—the windswept, sun-kissed girl with beautiful custom chaps who makes love in the back of a rusty old pickup in the middle of a field—doesn’t give a fuck. She tells me to slip my soft hand into Rhett’s rough one and give it a squeeze.
Big fan of Rhett Eaton’s dick.
“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.”
Kip: I hope you’re not dead, but only because my daughter is distraught over you right now, and if you’re dead, I can’t kick your ass for hurting her.
Choosing each other. Finding each other. Showing up for each other. And everything about the moment is flawless.
But not my old truck. Because the one she’s sitting next to is painted the prettiest blue. A steely blue.

