RIVAL: An Enemies to Lovers Why Choose Country Romance

Chapter 4

As much as I enjoy watching the game with my brother, it’s always a bit of a letdown when he wants to go to Clayborn’s house to do it. The man is alright, I suppose, but he’s kind of a dick.

Besides, when we come here, both Corbin’s wife and I know I’ll be hauling his drunk ass home instead of him trying to drive drunk. Between Clayborn and Corbin, the two of them can put back a case of beer faster than it should be possible. I’m proven right when the game finishes and I glance at the two of them, passed out in their seats.

Sighing, I know it’ll only take me a minute to rouse Corbin and get his ass to my truck, but I don’t have enough energy to do it right this moment. I’m still stuffed from our meal earlier. Clayborn’s daughter made a fine meal, and I’m honestly shocked at how well she can cook.

I never saw much of her over the few years I’ve started to tag along with my brother to his weekly visits here. Honestly, I thought she was much younger. Years will do that to you, though. Like in the magazines, you’ll hear of someone having a kid, then the next time you see a photo, they’re ten years older and it makes you wonder where the time went.

All I know of the woman is her name. Edith. I’m not even sure I’ve had a conversation with her up until a few hours ago, which is odd when I think about it. I’ve heard Corbin ask about her from time to time, but Clayborn always waved him off, saying something along the lines of her being shy and liked to be on her own.

I suppose that’s feasible. Lots of people are introverted. When I mute the TV, I hear water running from the kitchen, so I grab our plates and leave the sleeping men to snore.

Using my hip to push open the door, I look around and see the faucet running in the sink, but no Edith. A soft noise comes from the short hallway leading out back, so I set our dishes on the counter quietly and peer around the corner heading out back.

Both my brows lift in surprise when I spy Edith on her knees, holding the screen door open with one hand, cooing softly to something in front of her. Not wanting to startle her, I keep my feet light and peek over her shoulder, grinning when she brushes her fingers under the chin of the one of the scraggliest kittens I’ve ever seen in my life.

Edith doesn’t notice me, but the brown tabby certainly does. Seeing me, it becomes quite vocal, meowing brokenly and so loud the noise makes me wrinkle my nose. “Damn, that thing looks like a drowned rat!”

Jerking away and slamming her body against the wall, Edith looks up at me with wide, frightened eyes. Her movement was so fast it frightened the kitten, who tears down the steps and disappears under a bush.

I don’t concern myself with the barn cat. Instead, I take a step back and offer my hand. “Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Her chest is heaving, which I only notice when she places her palm to her heart to calm herself. My easy grin falls away when I realize how much I frightened her. “Damn, I really am sorry. You okay?”

“Yes,” she mumbles, shoving herself to her feet, avoiding my outstretched hand. I pull it back awkwardly and shove it into my pocket, then look over her shoulder toward the kitten. She follows my gaze and seems disappointed it’s gone. Looking dejected, she lets the door close quietly before dipping her head and pointing behind me. “Do you mind if I slip past you?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” I step to the side and get a whiff of something floral as she sweeps past me. Rushing to the sink, she shuts the water off before picking up the plates I’ve brought in to scrape the pieces of food into the trash. Scratching the back of my head, I’m not sure what to say. She’s the complete opposite of Clayborn, and not nearly as outgoing as most of the women I’ve grown up knowing. “You want a hand?”

The plate she’s holding slips from her grasp and drops heavily into the trash as she whips her eyes up to stare at me in shock. Gasping, she reaches in to retrieve it, pink heating her cheeks as she carries it back to the sink. “You don’t need to do that. It won’t take me long.” The corner of my lip tilts up when she side-eyes me and looks away just as quickly. “But uhh… thank you for the offer?”

Deciding I’m going to pretend this isn’t an awkward as fuck conversation, I grin and move in next to her. “It’s no problem. It’ll go quicker if we work together.” Her back is rigid, so I bump her shoulder before leaning down to whisper in her ear conspiratorially. “Besides, those two are passed the fuck out. I’ll let Corb sleep a bit longer before I drag his ass back home to his wife.”

I thought for sure she’d laugh at that, but her frown deepens to something more worried. “Think he’ll sleep for a while?”

“Corb? Nah, he’ll be cake to wake up. But I’m sure he’ll nod off as soon as his ass hits his recliner at home.” Snickering, I can already hear his wife’s nagging, but she loves him and doesn’t mind when he gets some time to himself.

“No, I mean—” Edith snaps her lips shut and starts scrubbing at the plate. I realize she wasn’t asking about my brother.

Holding my hand out for the clean dish, she hands it over. As I rinse the suds, I continue a bit more seriously. “Yeah, I’m sure your dad is out for the count.” When she relaxes, I do too and let myself grin again. It’s shocking how gorgeous she is. I don’t remember her mom, but Corbin met her once, I think. His impression wasn’t anything to write home about, so I’m a bit surprised Edith is as beautiful as she is.

She doesn’t favor her father at all, maybe except the dark hair and chocolate-colored eyes, although hers are much more vivid than Clayborn’s. His are always glassy and dull from drinking daily. That thought makes me grow concerned. Keeping an eye on her from the corner of mine, we wash dishes in silence, her slim fingers working aggressively to scrub the bits and pieces of food from the surface.

Her wrists are petite as well, and her head only comes to just about my shoulder. If you only glance at her, you’d think she’s just naturally thin, but studying her more closely, I can see a slight bruising under her eyes and sharp cheekbones, which makes her seem a tad older than she probably is.

Never one to bite my tongue, I blurt out, “How old are you?”

Again, the dish slips from her fingers, but she catches it before it slams into the base of the sink. She smiles quickly, although it’s forced. “I’m twenty. I’ll turn twenty-one soon.” Then, after chewing on her lip, she asks hesitantly, “How old are you?”

Snorting at the math I’m doing in my head, I say, “Much older than you. I’ve got sixteen years on ya.”

“So, thirty-six then. I thought you were closer to my father’s age.”

This time, I laugh. “Hell no. Corbin and your dad are the same age. I was the one that tagged along for years. Definitely younger.” Teasing her, I bump her shoulder again and wince when she stumbles to the side before righting herself. “Not so old.”

“No,” she whispers. “Not as old as them. Here.” Handing me the last plate, she starts dragging her fingers through the soapy water to find the soaking silverware. Finding a few forks, she scrubs at them with renewed energy.

Not wanting to stop talking with her, I do my best to get her to open up more. “So, you’ve got a barn cat with a litter outside?”

She sighs with pleasure, easing up on the silverware as a small smile grows. “No, not in ours. We’ve only got the shed for Raleigh. I think he might be a baby from next door, but I heard him crying outside. Poor little guy must have wandered off. He’s sweet, though, and seems friendly enough.” Looking toward the door, she adds, “Maybe I should go see if he’s still out there. Take some milk or something.”

“You start feedin’ him, he’ll never go away. Unless that’s what you want?” Strays are common around here and everyone knows that once you give them an ounce of attention, they’ll hang around all hours of the day and night. “Might even get noisy, cryin’ for you at night.”

Her smile falls away. “That’s probably not a good idea. I hate to think he’s separated from his momma, though. Do you think I should go find him and take him next door?”

If she’s talking about the Coopers, it’s probably not a great idea, considering how much Mason and Clayborn hate each other. “Ehh, probably not the best idea. Why don’t we finish this and go look for him? I can swing him by on my way out if it’ll make you feel better.”

Her eyes find mine, and her pleading look hits me right in the chest. “You wouldn’t mind?”

Clearing my throat, I nod without drawing my eyes away. Letting them roam over her, I notice the sprinkling of light freckles across the bridge of her nose and full lips. Fuck, Clay would have my hide if I hit on his daughter in his own house, but she’s more than just a small temptation.

“I’d be happy to do that for you, if you want.” She flashes the most brilliant smile in my direction, and I know I’d do anything to see that again. Dragging my eyes from her, I turn my body away and will my cock from getting hard with the way she’s looking up at me. “Let’s get this sorted and go find the little guy.”

Humming happily, she rushes to finish and within ten minutes, we’re outside, clicking our tongues and snapping our fingers to find her kitten. I follow behind, doing my best not to stare at her ass when she bends over to search under branches and junk that Clayborn’s stored out here.

The longer we look for him, the more disappointed she grows until finally she sighs and hugs her stomach. “Guess he must have run off back home.”

“They’re pretty good at finding their way. I’m sure he went back to his siblings, because you know if there’s one, there’s at least five more out there. But if not, he’ll be back soon enough.”

Holding the door open for her, she nods solemnly and drags her feet back inside, only to hear Clayborn’s slurred bellow. “Edith! Where are you, girl?”

Edith stumbles to hurry faster inside, her ass right in my face as she climbs the steps and I bite my lip to hold back my groan. She might be slender, but fuck, that ass looks delicious. “I’m here,” she calls out, and I let the door slam behind me as I follow her inside.

Her dad is leaning against the door frame, eyes running over me before zeroing in on her. “You put it all away?”

“Yes, just got done washing up.”

“Shit. I was gonna grab some more. There’s still pasta left, right?” He stumbles toward the fridge without waiting for an answer, tearing the door open and hangs his arm heavily on the frame as he searches inside.

Wringing her hands together, she follows him and suggests, “Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll fix up another plate for you?” She eyes me warily, but I’m not sure why. My eyes go back and forth between the two of them, then hear my brother groaning from the living room.

“He’s wakin’ up,” I say more to myself than them.

“Yeah, you should probably take him on home,” Clayborn mutters, still digging through the fridge, pulling out dishes and dropping them on the counter. “Don’t we have more beans? Thought there was more than this.”

Edith forces a smile at me and tilts her head toward the other room. “Why don’t you get your brother? Thank you for your help cleaning up tonight.”

Dropping a hand on her shoulder, I squeeze gently and wink at her. “Probably for the best. Your daddy’s ready for bed too, I think. Thanks for havin’ us over, Clay. See ya later.” He grunts and waves me off. “Dinner was delicious,” I tell Edith, lowering my voice, then give her one more squeeze before letting go.

I find myself more disappointed than I would have thought as I drag Corbin out to the truck, his arm hanging heavily over my shoulder. The vision of Edith’s ass brings a smile to my face. I tell myself there’s nothing wrong with tagging along next time the boys decide to watch another game. Might have to get them to drink the whiskey next so she and I have a little longer to chat.