Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Rhett
“Did I put on too much cologne?” I ask the windshield as I turn onto the road to Brynlee’s.
It’s not a date, but that doesn’t change the fact I feel like a teenager who just asked the girl he has a crush on to the school dance. I don’t want to suffocate her, so maybe I can air out the cab by leaving the door open when I get out.
The comment she made about me flirting with her was difficult to read.
Was she excited about it? Or was she trying to let me down easily by ignoring it?
I don’t know how much more obvious I can get about how much I like her, short of telling her about how I dream about what her lips taste like.
In my experience, that is a sure-fire way to make sure she never speaks to me again.
Courting city girls is clearly different from courting the girls around here. It would have been more than clear by now to any other woman in town that I’m shooting my shot. She’s probably used to a more direct man.
Well, shit. That’s probably how those guys avoid the friend zone.
“Maybe we should just stay friends,” I say and shift into park in front of her garage. “That way, my heart won’t get broken when she says we’re just better off that way.”
Tonight, she’ll meet just about every man, both available and taken, and she’ll have her pick of anyone she wants.
I’ll just be the guy who helped when she was stuck on the side of the road.
Wow, I just took myself from potential boyfriend to her handyman in seconds.
Being the nice guy never fails to bite me in the ass.
Looking at the clock, it reads seven-twenty-five. Always early. Should I sit out here for the remaining five minutes or go and knock? Just as I climb out to walk up to her porch, Brynlee steps out of her house, ready and anticipating my arrival.
Of course, she was. She’s about to meet everyone and build her social circle beyond just me.
The cologne airs out a bit, and I can’t stop from gaping as I fully take in her appearance.
The light blue sundress not only makes her eyes shine but her golden skin glow.
Her blonde hair hangs in loose curls down to her shoulder blades, and she has just the softest touch of makeup on.
Instead of her normal heels, she has on a pair of wedges more suited for the dirt roads we have, and I smile. She looks adorable.
Her face changes from a smile to terror. “Am I overdressed? I thought this was understated. Do I need to change? I think I have a pair of jeans somewhere,” Brynlee says.
“No, you look amazin’,” I say and shake my head. “You always look amazin’, but I think this might be my favorite outfit so far.”
Sighing in relief, the smile returns. “I was worried I still looked too city. Everything in my closet screams it, but this felt a bit country. I like my wardrobe, but until people get used to me, I’d like to try to blend in a bit.”
“Bryn, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think you’ll ever be able to blend in.
And that’s not a bad thing,” I say, walking over to offer my arm as she descends the stairs.
“You could show up in sweatpants with bedhead hair—which some women might tonight—and you’d still draw attention to yourself. Not in a bad way.”
I open the door for her and offer my hand.
I spent an hour scrubbing off as much caked-on dirt and grease as I could, and she takes my hand without hesitation.
I swear she blushes at me, and I force it to the back of my mind.
There’s a solid chance I won’t be the one bringing her back home tonight, so it’s best to make sure my expectations are in check.
Shutting her door, I hurry to my side and climb in. I smile before pulling away from the house, and I want so much to reach over and take her hand. Instead, I lower the window and hang my left arm out while driving with my right to keep my hands to myself. And to help air out the cab more.
“So, Carter’s wife, Darla, will be all over you when she meets you. She’ll want to know your life story,” I say. “As will many others, I’m sure.”
Brynlee turns with wide eyes. “There’s not much of a chance of remaining mysterious here, huh?”
“No, not really. It might just be best to give them as much as you’re comfortable with. It’ll make them feel more comfortable around you,” I say. “Let’s come up with a signal I can try to keep an eye out for if you need to be saved at any point tonight.”
Yeah, like I plan to take my eyes off her for a moment longer than I have to.
“Are you planning on abandoning me?” she asks, turning slightly to face me. “Got a hot girl you want to hit on?”
The only girl I want to talk to, let alone hit on, sits right beside me in a dress that rides up her legs as she moves. It’s impossible to stop thinking about how much I want my face between them with her wedges hooked over my shoulders.
Shifting, I try to hide my growing arousal. “You’re goin’ to be the center of attention, which I think Carter’s bankin’ on, actually. He can do his own thing instead of havin’ to entertain people because they’ll be focused on you. Consider yourself a celebrity tonight.”
“Oh, good,” she says, shifting to look out the window again. “How about if I play with my earring?”
I glance over to see her tugging on her earlobe before playing with the silver dangling piece. “That works. I’ll keep an eye out for that.”
“What’s Darla like? Is she nice?”
She sounds nervous, and I feel badly about it. I caused it. The truth is the truth, though, and I’d rather her be prepared than be taken by surprise.
“Darla’s a perfect fit for Carter. They’ve been together since the eighth grade. His twin brother, Everett, will be there, too, but Carter makes it known the party’s for his birthday to annoy him.”
“They don’t get along well?”
That’s a conversation for another time. The last thing I want is to completely humiliate myself right now. “They get along, but they had a fallin’ out about two years ago.”
Thankfully, we pull up outside the bar, and I hurry to open the door for her and offer her my hand. She’s not short by any means, and if I have to guess, I’d say she’s about five foot seven, flatfooted.
“Such a gentleman,” Brynlee says as she smiles at me.
It feels like an adoring smile, but I push that thought away, too. I need to stop finding things that aren’t there. Not if I want a chance of keeping my heart intact tonight.
“I’m Southern, sweetheart,” I say, exaggerating my drawl and making her giggle before I open the door to the bar.
That giggle has me ready to float away, but I come back down to earth as the chattering inside comes to a screeching halt.
I knew she’d gain attention, but not even Jason Aldean received this reaction when he stopped in after his bus broke down after playing in Atlanta years ago.
Her eyes look up at me, and I hate the panic in them.
“It’s because you’re the prettiest girl that’s ever walked in here,” I whisper in her ear.
She smiles and dips her head as a blush appears on her cheeks. Something that happens quite a bit, I’m noticing. Spotting Carter, I guide her to the only other friendly face in the room, and I shoot looks at everyone who gapes at Brynlee when we pass by.
We’re supposed to have the reputation of Southern hospitality around here, people.
“Baby, this is Brynlee Carmichael. Brynlee, this is my wife, Darla,” Carter says with a smile.
“It’s nice to meet you, Darla. And happy birthday, Carter. Thank you for inviting me tonight,” she says.
Darla’s mouth drops open as she just stares at Brynlee, and I want to push her. “You could be a model.”
Swallowing, Brynlee forces a smile. “I’ve done some. Nothing big or anything.”
“You’re kiddin’!” she cries and jumps up. “I’m goin’ to have to make sure to put more effort into my appearance if I’m goin’ to be hangin’ around you. Which I suspect I will.”
I shoot her a look, and she shoots one right back with narrowed eyes. Her patented shut up, I know what I’m talking about look.
“You look great,” Brynlee says. “I’ve always loved dark hair, but it just washes me right out. And I love your eyes.”
Waving a hand in the air, Darla runs her free hand over her hair. “Oh, whatever. You could be Miss USA with those baby blues, babe.”
She shakes her head and looks at the bar top. “Never made it past Miss Ohio. Which is okay with me. I’m not the biggest fan of parading across a stage in an evening gown.”
“Shut up!”
“Sorry?”
“It’s a phrase that was popular about two decades ago, and Darla’s never let it go,” I say in her ear. “What would you like to drink?”
Swallowing again, she looks up with fear in her eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t really drink. How about a soda? Seems to be the safest option to keep my wits about me while I’m on display.”
“One soda comin’ up. Diet?”
“Regular, please. I have an issue with the chemicals in diet. Not that the sugar in regular is much better. And I’m going to listen to Darla and shut up now.”
“Well, Bryn… Can I call you Bryn?” Darla says as I walk down the bar to get Jake’s attention.
He leans forward immediately. “You got the new girl! Good for you, man!”
“We’re friends,” I say. “I need a beer and a soda.”
“Diet?”
“Regular.”
He laughs. “You heard that wrong.”
“No, she wants regular.”
“Girls like that eat like birds. They drink zero calorie drinks, and they run for hours on treadmills. Probably while wearin’ high heels. Didn’t I just hear her say she was Miss USA?”
“Miss Ohio,” I say. “And I’ve seen her eat. She doesn’t eat like a bird, and there’s no treadmill that I’ve seen at her house.”
He gives me a sad but knowing look as he pours the drinks. “Yeah, you are just a friend.”
“Pardon?”
“Sorry, bud, but girls like that don’t eat in front of men they want to have sex with. Not until they’ve been together for months. If you’ve seen her eat, you’re in the friend zone.”
Taking the drinks, I turn to find Tim talking to Brynlee. The handsome, gym rat player who’s had every single woman in the county, and the nearest three, at least once. The type of guy who would swoop in and take Brynlee from me without any effort.
It annoys me how I can’t deny how much better she looks with Tim than she does with me. Maybe if I went to the gym, it would help.
No, it wouldn’t. I’d have to cut out beer, and I’m not that committed.
Not when it’s the only thing that helps fill the void being thirty-five, the only single family member over the age of seventeen, and no prospects for a wife or kid brings.
The beer is a must to keep me functioning as though I’m not a man destined to die alone, spending his days yelling at kids to stay off his lawn.
Tim’s chiseled jaw and distractingly gray eyes make all the women swoon the way Brynlee does to just about every man in here.
I try to find an opening to bring her the drink without coming off like a cockblock.
I may not be happy about Tim moving in on the girl I walked in here with, but this isn’t a date. No matter how much I wish it was.
As she turns her head, I see Brynlee tugging on her earring. Hold on… she wants me to save her? The two best looking people in town talking together should fit like a puzzle, but I can’t stop the smile spreading on my face knowing she wants an out.
“Here you go, Brynlee,” I say. “Sorry it took so long.”
“That was sweet of you, Rhett,” Tim says. “I can take it from here. He’s such a good friend, isn’t he?”
If only he knew just how badly I want to punch him in his perfect nose right now for that comment.
Brynlee turns and gives me a look that screams help me. “Timothy has been telling me how many reps he does at the gym. Many, many reps. More than I could possibly count in my pretty little head.”
“Tim does like the gym. And it shows,” I say. “To be fair, he’s not the greatest counter, so I don’t think it’s as much of an insult to you as it is him.”
“Hey, screw you, Dillon!”
She turns to Tim with a smile. “It was very nice meeting you, Timothy. I’m sure we’ll talk again at another town function sometime.”
His jaw drops as she loops her arm with mine and turns her back towards him. Spinning on his heel, he storms away to find his consolation prize of the evening.
“Is he gone?” she whispers.
I laugh and nod. “Yeah.”
“He is… a lot.”
“Do you want somethin’ to eat? I can go order somethin’.”
“You cannot leave me alone again. I almost yanked my earring out trying to signal you.”
I think I’m in love. “We can sit down and let a waitress come to us. And if you want, I can be your date for the evenin’. You know, ward off the others.”
We sit at a table, and she locks eyes with me. “I was kind of hoping that’s what this was. I couldn’t really tell if you were asking me out or bringing me as just a friend. You are a difficult man to read, Rhett Dillon.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, stunned. She wants this to be a date?
“I can’t figure out if you like me or not. I mean, I think you’re the type of guy who likes most people in general, but it’s impossible to read if you’re interested in something more than friendship. With me, anyway. It’s perplexing, if I’m honest.”
Brynlee Carmichael, Miss Ohio, is interested in me? In me?