Chapter 6 – Jael #2
When the bone finally comes into view my gaze drops to it and I let out a sigh of relief.
“Ah, you’re a life saver.”
“Here you go,” he says, holding it out to me still clasped in the jaws of the claw.
“Absolutely not.”
He laughs heartily, wraps it in a paper towel and then tosses it in the trashcan next to the bowl. He then packs up his tools and moves to the sink to wash his hands while smiling at my reflection behind him in the mirror.
“You look good, Jael. It’s good to see you again.”
I smile at him. “It’s good to see you too, Rhett.”
“So, what have you been up to since you ran out of here ten years ago?” he asks, squeezing past me in the cramped bathroom doorway.
Our bodies brush as he slips past me into my mom’s kitchen, and the faintest whiff of him clings to me.
Definitely not the overpowering Curve cologne that Owen had drenched himself in earlier.
Rhett smells better. Rawer. It’s this woodsy, masculine cologne threaded with the faint tang of sweat, and it hits me low, unexpected.
I’ve never thought body odor could double as an aphrodisiac, but apparently, I was wrong, because the combination of cologne and hard work is making me dizzy in the best way.
He walks over to the fridge, grabs a cold beer, and moves to the counter's edge. Without looking, he smoothly uses the under-the-counter bottle opener that my dad installed there fourteen years ago when we first moved into the trailer park. The top pops off and falls into his other hand smoothly.
Something about the whole situation feels a little too... comfortable.
“Sure, make yourself at home and drink my dad’s beer,” I say, waving my hand dismissively as I walk over to one of the empty bar stools and sit down.
He grins at me. “Your dad’s dead and not here to bitch at me for drinking it anymore. Plus, your mom owes me. I fixed that toilet three months ago for free.”
“Uh, why would you do that?”
He takes another long sip from the bottle before setting it down on the countertop gently. Grinning at me, he shrugs and says, “She’s always looked out.”
My brows bunch together. “So, you see her often?”
He shakes his head. “Usually only when I need to make a trip to the bank for my business, or when I come around the trailer park to visit my mom. We still do Sunday dinners together as much as I can.”
“She still lives here?”
He nods. “That she does. Refuses to leave.”
We sit in silence for a few beats while he takes another pull from his bottle. My eyes snag on the movement—his strong jaw flexing as he swallows, full lips wrapped around the rim, that big Adam’s apple of his dragging up and down like it’s got a mind of its own.
“You know, you would end up in a job that causes you to be drenched in shit all day,” I say, smiling, trying to distract myself from the obvious, weird tension that’s between us as I stand to grab a beer for myself from the fridge.
After the long drive I just made from Richmond, and dealing with Bentley’s bone incident, I think I deserve one. Plus, if my mom realizes that it’s missing, I’ll just blame Rhett since it sounds like they’re buddies now.
“Oh, and like nursing doesn’t require you to encounter some shit?”
I laugh to myself, thinking about one of the last patients I had before I moved here.
They managed to pee on me and soil the bed at the same time while I was trying to insert a catheter.
Too drunk to even notice. The next morning, though, they surprisingly apologized, profusely, like they’d woken up with a flash of shame.
Most don’t. Honestly, I don’t even think twice these days. Comes with the job.
“Wait, how do you know what I do all day?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.
He shrugs casually. “Do you think I’d forget all those summers spent with you rambling on and on about nursing school? Also, have you forgotten how much Meredith talks?”
I laugh despite myself. My mom and I might not keep in touch, but somehow, she always manages to find out just enough about the positive aspects of my life to keep her gossip material fresh.
She’s the queen of small-town bragging rights, spinning tales to make herself look like the perfect, doting mother.
It’s not like she ever cared about protecting me when I actually needed her.
No, my mom was all about maintaining appearances—acting like everything in our family wasn’t unraveling at the seams instead of addressing the fact that her husband needed some serious help with his addictions, and her daughter deserved to be protected.
I take another slow sip of my beer and let myself look at him. Rhett Miller. My old neighbor, friend, classmate… and for one messy, brief second, my boyfriend. He hasn’t changed all that much. Broad shoulders, easy posture, that face that’s way too handsome for its own good.
I think I’m being subtle about staring until I realize I’m biting down on my bottom lip. His mouth curves into that lazy, knowing smile, the kind that makes it clear he’s caught me in the act.
“Take it all in, Jael,” he drawls, stretching like a cat basking in the sun.
The hem of his shirt rides up slightly, revealing what looks like are some serious abs he didn’t have when we were younger along with a deep V.
“I was always a strong boy, but I’m all man now.
” He winks, and I snort, rolling my eyes even as a reluctant smile tugs at my lips.
Rhett had always been attractive—piercing green eyes, tall frame, muscular build, tanned skin.
He was the kind of boy everyone noticed back in high school, and time has only sharpened those features, matured his looks in all the good ways.
There’s something different about him now, though, something rougher, earned.
His muscles aren’t gym-polished these days, they’re carved by manual labor. His hands look strong and capable. And for the first time, I’m realizing that I like a man in work boots and dirty jeans.
Am I… into blue-collar men?
Maybe it’s the implication of what those boots represent.
A man who works hard, who isn’t afraid to get his hands messy to provide.
Someone solid, grounded, reliable. Someone completely unlike my father who was an accountant prior to quitting his career and spending all my mom’s money, or my ex-fiancé who worked at the hospital with me.
My thoughts flicker to Christopher, my ex-fiancé who’s still back in Virginia last time I checked. A Nurse Practitioner with a god complex that liked to remind me that he was more educated than me.
Christopher wouldn’t be caught dead in ripped jeans, let alone work boots.
If I’d suggested something like role-playing as a plumber, he’d have rolled his eyes and lectured me about how he had more important things to do than indulge in my “juvenile fantasies.” And anytime we needed anything fixed around our apartment, he would call for help versus trying to figure it out on his own like Rhett always did as kids.
And maybe that was part of the reason things between us never worked out. Maybe we were less compatible than I originally thought when I’d accepted his proposal.
I bite back a laugh, trying to imagine Christopher in work boots and a tool belt. The image is so absurd that I can’t help but shake my head. And yet, the thought of Rhett wearing just that—dirty boots and nothing else—sends a rush of heat coursing through me.
Stop it. Stop thinking about Rhett naked.
Easier said than done when he’s sitting across from me looking like a Calvin Klein model who moonlights as a ranch hand and when I have seen him naked before.
“So,” he says, breaking me out of my spiraling thoughts. “Who had you staring off into the distance with a dreamy smile, flipping through our old yearbook, while listening to Backstreet Boys? Let me guess—Was it Brian or Nick?”
“Hey,” I say, pointing my beer bottle at him. “They’re a great band. Timeless, if you ask me.”
He snorts.
“And I wasn’t looking at anyone in particular. I was just... reminiscing.”
“Sure, you were.”
He doesn’t press the issue, but there’s something in his gaze that tells me he knows exactly what—or rather, who—I was looking at. My cheeks flush but he changes the subject again, saving me from admitting that I was staring at his senior year photo.
“How long have you been back in town?” he asks.
“I just got in today. I took a traveling nursing assignment with Whitewood Hospital’s emergency department so I could be here to help my mom with settling my dad’s will.
Apparently, the ICU unit here is non-existent and they’re desperate for someone with the skills and experience I have to help upskill their nurses. ”
He nods. “Sounds like a good opportunity for you. Sorry to hear about your father.”
I don’t bother answering because Rhett knows neither of us are actually sorry that he’s gone. If he wasn’t ignoring me or draining my mom’s wallet, he was throwing her around or turning his fists on me.
Rhett always swore that if he ever saw it happen, he’d step in.
And even though we were just kids, I believed him.
That’s why I did everything I could to hide how bad it really was because I didn’t want Rhett getting hurt too.
For a while, I thought I’d pulled it off.
But I should’ve known better. Rhett might not have called me out, but his eyes never missed a thing.
“Have you run into anyone since you got back?”
I wonder if Rhett heard about my run in with Owen already or if he’s just guessing. He’s always been able to read me well. So, instead of lying I tell him the truth.
“I ran into Owen at the hardware store,” I say nonchalantly, trying my best to play it off like it isn’t a big deal while I pick at the bed of my nails and avoid eye contact.
He sets his bottle down on the counter, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Oh, so that’s why you were all in your emotions looking at our yearbook.”
“I was not all in my emotions,” I shoot back.
He nods. “Go on. What’d he say? Ask you to go for a ride on the back roads in his truck to look at the cornfields and climb the old water tower? Tell you that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you for the last decade and wants to get back together?”
“Shut up.”
He sits patiently, waiting for me to respond, a smirk on his face that’s way too knowing.
I sigh, realizing he isn’t going to drop it. “He invited me to the high school football game on Thursday night. It’s not a big deal.”
“And you said you'd go with him?” he asks, his eyebrows raising in shock, knowing smirk nowhere to be found.
I do a half shrug, half nod as I sip the last of my beer. “Maybe.”
He pauses for just a moment before slamming a flat palm down on the countertop causing me to jump.
“All these years later, and he’s still got his fucking claws in you, and you can’t see it.
” He stands up, draining the rest of his beer in the sink and tossing the glass into the trash with a strong shake of his head. “Un-fucking-believable, Jael.”
“Hey! That’s not fair,” I start.
He levels me with a stern look that feels more like a big brother than a guy who used to be my best friend and at one time, knew me better than anyone.
“Welp. It’s not my problem anymore. Great seeing you, Jael.
Good luck cleaning up the next mess that you get yourself into.
And I’m not talking about a simple toilet clog. ”
Then he bends down to scoop up his tool bag, grips the back of his neck before shaking his head, and heads out the front door without another word.