Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Charlie
R hett’s house turned out to be barely more than a cabin itself. A two-bedroom wooden home on the outskirts of the town, facing the water. He parked and helped Charlie out of the truck, carrying her suitcase inside. When he ducked back out to get his own gear, she took the opportunity to look around. The living room looked over the marina and the ocean in the far distance. There was no television, just a faded sofa and a bookshelf stuffed to overflowing with well-thumbed paperbacks. The kitchen was a small but practical space, with worn but clean and serviceable cabinetry and mismatched appliances, and that’s where Rhett found her when he came back inside.
“It’s a nice view, isn’t it?” He said, standing next to her, nodding towards the living room.
“Yeah.”
“You never got around to telling me your idea.” He turned to lean against the sink. Rhett reached out and put his hands on her hips, his large fingers splayed across her back, thumbs pressing gently into the softness of her belly.
She’d never been around people who were so casually tactile as Rhett, and she decided she liked it. Charlie stepped between his legs and rested her hands on his shoulders, brushing her own thumbs up and down his neck.
“Are you sure you want to hear it? It’s about the land,” she said, but continued in a rush, “but I promise it’s not about selling it.”
He nodded. “Okay. I’m listening.”
“So I spoke with my father’s 2IC today about the land and the deal they were offering.”
Rhett’s fingers twitched on her side, the only indication of his mood. He nodded for her to continue.
“You’re not opposed to all development, are you? Just something as large as the resort that Sinclair Properties is proposing.”
“That’s right. I’d planned on renovating the cabins at some point—maybe adding a few more—but just don’t have the money to spare.”
She nodded. It was clear there wasn’t money in the business. And he wasn’t spending it anywhere else. His truck was in good condition, but it wasn’t the latest model, and his house was spartan. He didn’t even own a TV.
Rhett West might be many things, but he wasn’t a rich man. And it was clear he wasn’t motivated by money because he could have taken any of the offers her father had made over the years, but he didn’t.
He was not a gold digger.
Something settled inside Charlie. A certainty that she’d found someone that she really connected with, rather than someone who had connected with what her money could do for them.
“So, you’re not opposed to updating the cabins and possibly adding some more?”
“Sure, but did you hear the part where I said I didn’t have the money?” He huffed out a laugh. “It’s a dream, Charlie. Not reality.”
She smiled up at him, her hands going around his neck. “What if it could be?”
“What are you talking about?”
“When I went to college, my father wanted me to go on to law school, so I did.”
“You’re a lawyer?” Rhett’s mouth dropped open.
Oh no, she wasn’t going to have any of that. “Yes, but I don’t practice. As long as I studied what he wanted, I could take whatever extra courses I wanted.”
“Sounds like a good deal.”
“It was,” she laughed. “I stumbled across some geography courses and loved them. One in particular about ecotourism.”
Rhett lifted his eyebrows.
“What if you didn’t have to sell? What if you had a partner instead who could provide the cash that you need to do the renovations on the cabins and build a small lodge? Somewhere you could use for the tours and accommodation for those who aren’t able to camp or don’t want to camp.”
“I wouldn’t own it though, would I?” He asked.
She smiled, pleased he was at least asking questions and not dismissing her outright. “There’d be paperwork to sort out, of course.”
“Lawyers.”
“Hey,” she swiped at his chest with her hand. “I’m a lawyer.”
“You said you weren’t practicing.”
She grumbled at him, but only in jest. “We could negotiate the ownership. Say, 51% to you and?—”
“No, more than that.”
She laughed. “We can talk.”
“Alright, we’ll talk about it,” he said.
She squealed with excitement and rose on her toes to kiss him.
He laughed, setting her away from him slightly. “But not right now. I have to go to work. Will you be all right by yourself?”
“Of course. Don’t worry about me. I’ll write up the proposal for you.”
Rhett nodded. “Sixty forty.”
Charlie shook her head. “You drive a hard bargain, Rhett West.”