Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Mary London
Ignoring the way my hand tingles from simply taking a coffee cup from the man, I wave him toward the back of the store where I have important papers in my bag.
I swear I can feel his gaze on my backside the whole way there.
I’d do some shady things for a hint of breeze right about now to cool off my cheeks.
Get it together, Mary. He’s just a man. Liable to disappoint before he does anything good.
Does he look like a rough-and-ready cowboy demigod sent to Heaven to rip out the hearts of all the females?
Definitely. Does he have an attitude problem that only makes me want to try that much harder to make him smile?
Sure does. Does he have a body that has no business being confined to clothing?
That’s a yes, sir, though I wouldn’t mind a naked inspection to verify that fact.
I step around the counter just to get some space away from the man, pushing the computer monitor out of the way.
My hand is shaking like a leaf as I pull out the stack of paperwork from my bag sitting on the high barstool I sometimes allow myself to sit in when my feet are killing me late in the day.
I clear my throat and straighten my spine, leaning into my many years of debutante training to carry on without showing a single ruffled feather.
My index finger drills into the papers between us.
I lift my gaze and find Rhett’s gaze sweeping across me before snapping to my eyes.
“I have some business to discuss with you, but first, can you tell me what kind of build-outs you have experience with?”
Rhett’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t ask any further questions. He sets his coffee cup on the counter, reaches into his back pocket, and swipes up on his cell phone. He lays it on the counter, on top of my paperwork, and spins it around so I can see it.
“Flip through,” he grumbles.
Look, I’m from the South. I’m not used to people who don’t ramble on like the gift of gab came from God himself.
It’s like there’s a price Rhett has to pay for every word he speaks, and he’s a tightwad.
Instead of trying to change him, I do what he says and focus on the phone, swiping through picture after picture of various businesses.
All very unique. All looking professionally done, some even breathtaking.
After probably the twentieth one, I lift my head.
“You did all these?”
Rhett dips his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
I straighten up and hand him back his phone. I don’t miss the way he hesitates before taking it from me. Nor do I mistake the shiver that runs up my spine at the contact of his fingers with mine. I’m attracted to this man. Plain and simple.
“You’re very good.”
“Thank you.”
We stare at each other for a long moment.
What I’m about to tell him could go two ways.
How he reacts will tell me everything I need to know.
One way, I lose all attraction for him. The other response will light a torch under this crackling attraction between us.
I honestly can’t tell which way I want him to respond.
“I have a project, and I think you might be the man to help me with it.”
Rhett dips his head again, and even though it’s a simple movement, I can tell he means for me to go on. Wow, look at me, interpreting head nods now.
I suck in a deep breath and go for it. “I’m opening a cowboy bar and I need someone to do the build-out. You up for the job?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I blink. “That’s it?”
Rhett tilts his head just a fraction. “I’d like to see the space and go over your plans in order to get you an estimate, but yeah. That’s it.”
I come around the counter, arms folding across my chest. “I said I’m opening a cowboy bar. Not a pretty boutique. A rough-and-wild cowboy bar with a mechanical bull and line dancing and probably more than its fair share of alcohol-induced fights.”
Rhett dips his head again. “Sounds fun.”
All the trepidation drains from my body, and I toss my head back and laugh. And then laugh some more. When I compose myself enough to see him staring back at me with more than a bit of confusion, I explain myself.
“I have had no less than five people try to talk me out of opening this bar.”
Rhett frowns. “I don’t understand. Is drinking not allowed here anymore?”
That makes me laugh again. “Oh, no. Heaven loves their alcohol. We have a sports bar already and all the restaurants on the Square serve alcohol.”
Rhett folds his arms across his chest, and I admire the way his T-shirt pulls across his arms. “So, what’s the problem?”
I’m having to bite back a smile as I inform him of what should be obvious. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m a woman.”
Rhett goes completely still. His gaze freezes on mine, and I swear I see heat simmering there. “Yes, ma’am, I’ve noticed.” His voice is a deep rumble that runs right up my bare arms. “But what does that have to do with your bar?”
I hold up my hand, counting off on my fingers.
I’m getting heated just thinking about all the opposition to opening the bar.
“My brother thinks I won’t have time to run two businesses, even though he runs two of them himself.
My father is appalled I even want another bar in town, let alone want to be the one to open it.
Let’s not forget Janie, my mother’s best friend, who also pulls all the permits for the town.
She thinks I’ve lost my mind. Quincy Jones is our local realtor who tried to talk me out of renting the space every single day until I signed on the dotted line.
And don’t even get me started on Collins. ”
Rhett’s eyes narrow. “What did Collins do?”
I throw up my hands and start pacing in front of Rhett.
“I had the misfortune to date Collins Phipps back in junior year of high school. We ended almost quicker than we started, but he seems to think he can still tell me what to do. I disabused him of this notion right quick, let me tell you, but that still doesn’t help me with the build-out.
He flat-out told me no, can you believe that? ”
Rhett steps in front of me, stopping my pacing. “He’s a contractor?”
“Yes! The only contractor we have here in Heaven that can do what I’m looking for. Well, that is, until you moved back. And he just laughed in my face and said he wouldn’t do it. Can you believe that misogynistic crap?”
“Let’s go kick his ass.” Rhett pulls his keys out of his front pocket, apparently ready to go find Collins Phipps and teach him a thing or two with his fists.
My mouth drops open, tirade forgotten. He’s freaking serious.
Then I crack a smile, which turns into a whoop of a laugh.
My hands land on Rhett’s chest as I bend over laughing so hard I’m sure I look like a leaking tomato.
Rhett’s hands hold my upper arms, helping me stay upright.
Tears are tracking down my cheeks when I finally collect myself enough to look at him.
His lips are quirked up on the ends like he’s fighting a smile instead of Collins.
“You good?” he asks, making me let out another bark of laughter. That only makes him grin a little bit more, which makes me even more happy I invited him here today.
I pat his chest and pull myself upright, reluctantly releasing him to swipe at my cheeks. “Whoo-ee. I haven’t had a good belly laugh in a while. Thank you for that.”
Rhett studies me for a few moments. “So, we’re not kicking Collins’s ass?”
I beam at the man, noting the way his face changes when he smiles. Not that he’s fully smiling. It’s more of a not frowning type of expression. “No, not today.”
“Rain check, then.”
“Deal.”
“When do you have time to go to the bar and show me what you have in mind?”
As if on cue, there’s a knock on the front door. We both turn to see Maggie waving. She’s got three young women behind her, all eager to get inside and get shopping.
“How about I let them in and we can head over now?”
He dips his head. I rush over to unlock the door and greet my assistant and the shoppers. I watch every single one of them do a once-over of Rhett, female appreciation in their eyes. He’s way too old for them, but every woman knows a good-looking man when they see one.
It’s strange. I’ve only ever been mildly attracted to the men I’ve dated.
Like, a muted appreciation of their looks.
I’ve always prided myself on being more attracted to what’s below the surface; their wit, their kindness, and their smarts.
But with Rhett, my body is acting like a dang furnace, pumping out heat every time he so much as looks at me.
If I don’t watch it, I’ll be panting like a dog in his presence.
“Maggie, hon. I’m going to show Rhett the new space and be right back. Can you hold down the shop?”
Maggie gives me a quick hug and throws her bag behind the counter. “Of course.” She wags her eyebrows at me, her voice dropping. “Have fun with that one.”
I roll my eyes, but have to stifle an automatic smile. Stepping back over to Rhett, I tilt my head to the front door. “We can walk there. It’s just down Eternity Street.”
We head out in silence, which doesn’t surprise me.
I thought I’d hate it, but with Rhett, it just feels natural.
Easy. I say hello to everyone we pass because that’s what comes naturally to me.
We get a few funny looks and double takes, probably because everyone wonders what I could be doing with Rhett Price.
He’s more my brother’s age, so I don’t remember him from school, but as far as I’m concerned, none of that stuff from way back when has any bearing on who we are as adults.
I just need a contractor, and from what he showed me on his phone, he can build exactly what I’m envisioning.
When we get to the space with papered-up windows and a realtor lock box on the door, I stop. “Here she is!”
Rhett’s lips quirk to the side. I’m sure he’s used to seeing all kinds of excited entrepreneurs ready to open their businesses to the world.
I wonder how many he’s seen that don’t make it.
Because that is the reality of many small businesses.
Which means I need to tread very carefully about this place.
I need to get the people of Heaven behind me on this project instead of putting up barriers.
I love where I live and would never choose to live anywhere else, but I won’t lie. The ingrained beliefs of what a good Southern woman should and shouldn’t be is infuriating.
Using my own set of keys, I get the door opened and quickly turn on the lights.
It’s dusty in here from being on the market so long, and I have the air-conditioning set just below sauna level.
I spin on the dirty concrete floor, already imagining how it’ll look all done.
The high ceilings with exposed pipes and beams might just be my favorite part.
I stop twirling and get my head out of the clouds.
“I had an architect draw up my plans. On the ninth iteration, we got to what I had in my head. Now I need you to build it.”
Rhett’s head is on a swivel, taking in all the details of the one exposed-brick wall, the flooring, the lack of a ceiling, and the electrical outlets. He pulls out his phone and starts typing.
“Water?”
Alrighty, right down to business. I can appreciate that about him.
“Here.” I point to where the water comes into the side wall. “And another in the back.” I let him take pictures and type more things on his phone before I continue. “There’s a full kitchen in the back.”
“Got those drawings?” Rhett finally asks.
I hand him the papers I’ve looked at every day for months now.
I can’t see his face because of the brim of his hat.
He slowly flips through each page while I hold my breath.
Why his opinion matters so much, I’m not sure.
Finally, he raises his head, eyes bright with excitement.
I dare say that’s the most animated I’ve ever seen his face.
“I fuckin’ love it. ’Scuse my language.”
“I’m so excited, most days I have to put my hands in my pockets to keep from clapping.” I grin, already bouncing on my toes. “Can you build it for me?”
Rhett hands me the papers. “I’d love to.”
He holds out his hand and I slide mine against his rough callouses. We shake on it, and maybe I’m just imagining it, but I think he feels that electricity pulsing between us too.
Especially when we let go and he gives his hand a stunned little shake.
I’m not one for mixing business with pleasure, but considering I’m about to buck all expectations of a proper Southern lady by opening a cowboy bar, maybe there’s room for a bit of harmless forbidden flirtation to spice up my day.