Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Rhett
It’s been a lot of years since I told a woman I loved her.
I never envisioned saying those three little words to a woman ever again, to be honest. After the shitshow that was my relationship with Rylan’s mother, I decided I’d never go down that road again.
I’d grown up in chaos and I refused to expose Rylan to that same chaotic upbringing.
Messy relationships were better left for the young kids.
But saying I love you to Mary London just now?
It felt like saying the words had somehow released a valve in my chest that had been screwed down tight for too long.
My shoulders dropped away from my ears. My muscles relaxed.
My tight chest eased. The scowl that had become my resting face disappeared as if by magic.
Loving Mary London felt like the natural default of my body and I was just now figuring that out.
“Sure, I can swing by. Is everything okay?”
The night had turned cold, our breath starting to show as we trudged toward our cars.
College kids were out and about in the Square, making noise and living their best lives.
The twinkle lights the city council had put up for Christmas made the place into something you’d see on that channel that played Christmas romances all year long.
Add in a sprinkle of snow and we’d be in a goddamn snow globe of perfection.
“Okay. Yes. I’ll be there shortly.”
Mary London hangs up the phone and spins around at the door of her car to face me. Her eyebrows pinch together, a sight I never like to see. My hands are already on her hips, steadying her. Steadying me just as much.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Daddy. He wants me and Silas at his house for a family talk.” The ends of her lips turn down.
I feel partially responsible, seeing as how Clayton Winthrop doesn’t care for my family. Us dating has created a rift in the family dynamics. Mary London puts her hand on my chest, then bites her bottom lip. I wait her out, knowing she’ll find the words. She always finds the words and then some.
“Would you mind coming with me? I don’t want to go alone.”
“Of course.”
I don’t even have to think that through. I don’t want to go, but I’ll go simply because she asked. It’s the least I can do for causing a disturbance in the family.
We end up going in Mary London’s car, the leather nicer than any of the trucks I’ve ever owned.
When we pull up in the driveway of a house that could be on the cover of The Sip magazine, I wait while she pulls down the visor and reapplies lipstick and powder to her face.
Her fingers comb through her hair, erasing our rushed coupling in the bar.
Fuck, I still have her ripped panties in my pocket.
She’s going into battle with her father without panties on.
Somehow that bothers me simply because I know it’ll bother Mary London not to have her full armor in place.
Nothing I can do about that now however.
We head to the door, my hand on Mary London’s back.
I want her to know I’m with her the whole time.
Clayton swings the door open, his gaze immediately dropping to where I’m touching her.
His jaw goes tight but I have to give him credit.
He steps back and nods his head in greeting.
He’s in slacks and a button-down shirt, a different yet no less expensive sweater vest on top that makes him look like he’s some kind of old-school Southern gentleman.
Only thing missing is a tumbler of scotch in his hand.
Silas is already there, thank God. He acts as a buffer, a warm welcome that eases our way into the living room where we all sit on the two couches facing each other. “Glad you could make it.”
Clayton sits in a wingback chair, the lord of his castle, crossing his ankle over his knee, hands steepled in front of him.
“Thank you for coming, Mary London.” His gaze shifts to me and the silence tells me exactly what he thinks of me being here.
“I already had this conversation with Silas. He encouraged me to also speak to you.”
“Okay.” Mary London shifts nervously, and I reach over to hold her hand. She squeezes my fingers tightly.
Clayton clears his throat. “I know you miss your mother very much and nothing of what I’m about to say is to besmirch her character in any way. It’s to explain things and to apologize.”
“I think maybe you should just come out with it,” Mary London says with syrupy kindness.
A ghost of a smile crosses Clayton’s face. “You’re just like your mother. Such good manners but a backbone of sass that comes out every now and again.”
“That’s one of the nicest compliments you’ve ever given me.”
Clayton dips his head. “I should give you more compliments, then.” He puts his foot down on the floor and leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “I cheated on your mother just a few years before she got sick.”
Mary London sucks in a breath and visibly shifts backward, away from her father.
“I won’t get into the details, but I apologized to your mother and we were working to mend our relationship.
Then she got sick.” His voice catches and he looks down at his hands.
“I think about it all the time. It should have been me that got sick. Not her. Not my beautiful Ophelia. The last thing she said to me was making me promise to step up where you and Silas are concerned.”
Clayton sits back and clears his throat, taking a moment to collect himself.
“I simply don’t know how to be a good parent.
That was always your mama’s job.” He lifts his gaze to Mary London and I’m amazed to see his eyes swimming in tears.
“I’m sorry for being bad at being a father.
I love you and I want the best for you. That much I know. ”
Mary London takes a shaky breath next to me, then releases my hand to lean forward and cover her father’s. “Thank you for telling me and thank you for the apology.” She releases him, a cute little grin on her face belying the tears in her eyes. “You are a bit shit at it…” she drawls.
Clayton’s gaze snaps to hers. Then he startles us all with a loud guffaw of a laugh.
Silas finally interjects. “I knew I could count on Mary London to put it plainly.”
“There are good fathers all around you, Daddy.” Mary London grabs my hand again. “Maybe you just need to look harder. Observe. ‘Fake it ’til you make it’ sort of thing.”
Clayton nods, eyeing our joined hands. “Is that why you love him? He’s a good father?”
Mary London glances at me, her smile softening. “That’s just one of the things I love about him.”
Clayton rubs a hand over his mouth. “Christ, where’s a brandy when you need one?”
Silas claps his hands and then rises. “You can get through hard things without alcohol, Dad.”
The man nods, agreeing, though I have no doubt he’ll be pouring one the second we all leave. Mary London gets to her feet and I join her. She stops at her father, touching his arm.
“I’m happy, Daddy. It’d be great if you could find some happiness too.”
Clayton stands and hugs Mary London. It’s awkward and clearly not something they do often. But he’s trying. Makes me have a small measure of respect for the man that I didn’t have before.
“I’m happy for you, my darling girl.” He pats her shoulder after he pulls back. “I’ll make an effort with…” He trails off, tipping his head in my direction.
Mary London suppresses a snort. “His name is Rhett. Maybe start there.”
Clayton turns to me, holding out his hand. We shake and it isn’t a power struggle. Just two men who care about the same woman.
“Thank you for being there for her, Rhett.”
“Always, sir.”
We leave after that, Mary London handing me the keys and asking me to drive.
I drive us around town until she’s ready to talk.
She asks if we can go back to my place, so I head there.
There’s a tow truck in my driveway when we pull up.
The used car I bought for Rylan is on the back of it, a man unhooking chains so he can deliver it.
“I’m sorry. They said they’d deliver tomorrow,” I murmur, getting out of the car to approach the man.
Apparently, the dealership needed the car moved quicker and they were done detailing it, so it’s getting delivered whether I’m ready or not. Mary London joins my side, inspecting the car we picked out yesterday. The front door opens and Rylan steps out.
“What’s going on?”
I wave him over. “How about you come check out your new car?”
His jaw drops, eyes bugging out of his head. I take a mental snapshot, knowing this is one of those memories I’ll come back to later. The man has the car off the tow truck bed now and hands me the keys.
“Seriously? You went back and bought it?” Rylan’s voice is high and squeaky.
He rushes across the lawn and touches the hood of the SUV with a reverence reserved for fine jewels.
The thing has over a hundred thousand miles, but she’s in good shape.
Well taken care of and reliable. Just what a teen boy needs.
Mary London curls into my side, face split in a grin. “Your daddy test-drove it again yesterday and it’s perfect. I tried to get him to buy you a cute little steering wheel cover but he says men don’t like that kind of thing.”
Rylan turns away from the car and wraps Mary London in a bear hug, making her squeal. Then he releases her and stands in front of me, all seriousness for an almost seventeen-year-old. “Thank you, Dad.”
He throws his arms around me and I hold him close, wondering where all the years have gone. When we pull back, we both have a sheen to our eyes we’d never admit to.
“I should have gotten it earlier. I’m sorry I let my fear hold you back.” When Rylan looks at me curiously, I clear my throat. “Your mother dying in a car accident played in my head.”
Rylan doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, but that was because she was drinking, right?”
I blink in surprise. I never told him that part. The boy didn’t need to feel shame over his mother’s actions. She’d paid the ultimate price.
Rylan snorts. “Come on, Dad. There were newspaper reports. I searched them up years ago. And besides, all my friends knew about it back in Atlanta. They gave me shit for it actually.”
I want to pound those little assholes into the pavement. “I’m sorry, Ry. I didn’t know that.”
Rylan shrugs his skinny shoulders. “It’s okay. In a way that’s why I fit in with them. I was a lowlife, so I hung out with lowlifes.”
Pain shoots through my ribs. I grip Rylan on the shoulder.
“You are not a lowlife, Ry. Your mother made a mistake and it cost her her life. Those were her actions. They don’t define you.
Stereotypes are a real thing, but we don’t let them box us in.
We don’t live up to bad stereotypes. We prove them wrong. ”
Rylan nods, but there’s sadness behind it. A sadness I wish I could take away. “I know that now, Dad. I promise.”
I stare at him for a few more moments and then release him. I hand him the keys, which he snatches out of my hands lightning quick. His face splits into a loopy grin that leaves all the seriousness of that conversation behind.
“I’m gonna head to Sadie’s!”
“Don’t forget your curfew!” I yell after him, the last part of my sentence cut off by his door slamming and the engine roaring to life. Within seconds, loud music and bass thumps out into the calm night air.
Mary London giggles next to me, her arm sliding around my waist. I pull her close and inhale her scent while we watch my son drive away. Part of me is still so nervous about him being behind the wheel I know I won’t sleep tonight until he gets home all in one piece.
“You did good, Dad,” Mary London says proudly, gazing up at me.
I sigh and steal a quick kiss. “What’s with all the emotional conversations today?”
Mary London shrugs, letting me steer her toward the front door of my house. “I don’t know, but I like having them with you by my side.”
God, she’s sweet. I close the door behind us and spin her so I can wrap my arms around her waist. “Me too.” I drop my head and pull her into the kind of kiss that leads to clothes flying off.
Except she pulls back and ducks out of the way so I can’t keep kissing her. “Wait!”
I groan and drop my head to her shoulder. “More emotional conversation?”
She giggles and it makes me feel light. Makes me feel younger, back to a time when life was fun and anything seemed possible. Mary London jabs her finger in my side, making me jump and straighten up.
“I’ll make it quick, I promise.”
I tell my dick to calm down and take her hand, pulling her into the living room. If my girl needs to talk, we talk. I get us seated on the couch, her feet in my lap, her high heels on the floor, and a blanket over her lap.
“Talk as long as you want. I’m listening.”
Her dazzling smile makes me feel ten feet tall. “You’re just about perfect, you know that?”
I grab my chest. “Just about?”
Mary London shrugs, that grin still pulling on her lips. “Well, you can’t cook nothin’ but tacos and spaghetti, sugar.”
“That’s what a woman’s for,” I drawl, knowing it’ll piss her off. I can’t help myself. Being a man who teases people has become part of who I am, apparently.
I get a pillow thrown at my face.
“As I was saying…” Mary London drawls as the pillow rolls to the floor. “I want you to think long and hard about what you told Rylan back there.”
I frown, mentally going back over what we talked about. “His curfew?”
Mary London rolls her eyes. “No! About not letting a stereotype box you in. It’s like the porch light is on, but no one’s home.”
“Sometimes you’re speaking English, June bug, and I still have no idea what you’re saying.
” I dig my thumb into the arch of her foot and she groans, which is not doing anything to relieve the tight jeans I’m wearing.
Pretty sure she means I need to start taking my own damn advice.
“Let’s go get you in the shower before that sawdust irritates your perfect skin. ”