10 #2
"Can't tell you that." He pushed the call button and assumed what Rhett supposed he thought to be an air of nonchalance. But his face was alight with his secret, and he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet as they waited for the elevator to arrive.
Curious, Rhett narrowed her eyes. "You're about to burst wide open. Should I trust you?"
A muted ding announced that the elevator reached the floor just before the doors slid open.
"Hey," Rhys said as he steered her inside. "I got into a car with you thinking you were a reformed axe-murderer." He reached in his back pocket and extracted his security card. After sliding it into the slot, he pushed the button for the twenty-third floor.
"I never said I was reformed," Rhett said.
"I just said I didn't do it anymore." A mixture of excitement and nerves accelerated her pulse rate.
He was taking her to his place! In what she hoped was a casual move, she lifted one hand to her head and pretended to smooth her hair.
A slight tilt of her head accompanied by a quick, silent indrawn breath reassured her that her deodorant was working.
At the same time, she ran her tongue over her teeth in an effort to remove anything that might remain from the bowl of Cheerios she'd eaten in lieu of lunch.
She was relived to note that Rhys didn't appear to notice any of this but simply removed his card from the slot and slipped it back in his pocket.
"I didn't know that, though," he said, and it took Rhett a moment to remember they'd been discussing her imaginary career as a serial killer. "But I trusted you anyway, so you'll just have to trust me now."
The doors opened, and Rhett stepped out into a small vestibule.
A round mahogany table holding a vase full of summer flowers occupied the middle of the space, lit from above by a pot light.
Two doors stood shut on either side, and Rhys led her to the one on the left.
He unlocked it, swung the door open, and motioned for her to precede him inside.
Just over the threshold Rhett stumbled to a stop and looked around in astonishment. Though she knew on some level that a penthouse would be fancier than the other units in the building, this place was nothing like Mel's. In fact, Rhys's foyer was almost as large as Rhett's bedroom.
Cream marble tiles were cool under her bare feet, and a stainless and wood staircase curved grandly up the wall to her right.
Just past the stairs she caught a glimpse of a kitchen with beechwood cabinets and sand-colored marble counters.
Despite the dreary weather, the condo was filled with light since the entire back wall appeared to be nothing but windows beyond which the Dallas skyline rose in majesty.
"Holy shit," she breathed before she could stop herself.
"Over the top, isn't it? None of it's my style, but I have to admit it's grand.
" Rhys put his hands on his hips as he gazed around the opulent foyer and into the living room beyond.
"You should see the master suite. It takes up the entire top floor.
The closet alone is almost as large as the flat I had in Chicago. "
Rhett shook her head in amazement. "How many bedrooms are there?"
"Three. The one upstairs and two on the floor below us."
"Wait. This thing has three floors?" At his affirmative nod, she threw her arms wide. "Good grief, Rhys. What kind of business is your friend in that he can afford a three-story penthouse?"
"I'm not sure. Arms dealer, drug smuggling.
Something like that." He broke into laughter at her shocked face.
"Honestly, I'm not sure what he does, but he's a nice, respectable person.
He's my manager's older brother. But enough about him.
Let's get to your surprise." His warm hands descended on her bare shoulders, and he steered her through the living room to where a set of glass doors were thrown open to a large balcony.
Two lounge chairs with plump blue-and-white striped cushions sat side by side under the slight overhang from the balcony above, and just out of the range of the rain pattering on the slate floor.
"Here we are," Rhys said as they stepped outside. "You said you missed the sound of falling rain."
Wonder flooded Rhett's chest as she looked around at the way he'd set things up for her. There was even a small red cooler between the two chairs.
"Oh my God, Rhys. This is...you are so incredibly sweet." She turned to him with a tremulous smile. "I can't believe this." Overwhelmed by this thoughtful act, Rhett's instincts took over before her mind could react, and she hugged him.
Her brain caught up a split second later and provided a steady stream of details. How warm and solid he felt in her arms, the soft tickle of his hair against her face, the chocolate and rum scent that came from his skin, the fact that he was hugging her in return.
Flustered, she stepped back with a nervous laugh. Was it her imagination, or did he let her go with reluctance?
"Here, sit down." He gestured to one of the loungers with a soft, almost pleased smile. After he stretched out on the chair next to her, he flipped open the lid of the cooler. "Beer? Bottle of water?"
Okay. They weren't going to mention it. Best to act like it never happened, then.
In an effort to appear unaffected by the embrace, Rhett crossed her ankles and leaned back onto the cushion that was apparently stuffed with feathers from the wings of only the best angels.
Now that she'd had a minute to absorb everything, she started to regain her equilibrium.
"Water, please, garcon," she said with a grin. "Seriously, though, this is one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me."
Rhys twisted the top off a bottle of water and handed it to her.
"You wouldn't believe what I went through to arrange today's weather.
" The mischievous sidelong look he sent her left her snickering.
"What actually happened is that I took a break from working and opened the doors to see how warm it was outside.
When I heard the rain on the slates, I remembered what you said, and I thought you might like to sit and listen to it with me.
" Reaching into the cooler again he pulled out a bottle of Sam Adams for himself.
"I suppose that makes us a couple of pluviophiles. "
Rhett stopped with the bottle an inch from her lips. "Pluvio-whats?"
"Pluviophiles." He used the bottle opener on the side of the cooler to pop the top on his beer before he leaned back and smiled at her. "It's someone who likes rain and finds peace on rainy days."
"Well, then. To pluviophiles." She tilted her water bottle toward him, and he responded by clinking his beer bottle against it. The angle of his arm brought the tattoo on his inner forearm into view, and Rhett leaned forward to see it better. "What's your tattoo say?"
"This one is my kids' names." After transferring his beer to this left hand, he extended his arm closer to her, tat up.
It took a minute, but Rhett finally distinguished the elaborately swirled letters from the design surrounding them. "I see them now." She ran a finger over the names, tracing them lightly. "Dax Jameson, and there's Sienna Reese. It's so...Wait. Are you supposed to tell a man his tattoo is pretty?"
Rhys grinned. "Only if it is."
"Well, it's pretty." With reluctance she removed her finger so he could draw his arm back. "You said 'this one.' You have more?"
"Just one." He put his beer on the lid of the cooler and sat up. His hands went to the hem of his shirt, and he turned his back to her as he pulled the soft red cotton up to his shoulders. "Here it is."
Who the hell could ever have imagined that a back could be so sexy?
Broad at the shoulders, it tapered down to his waist in perfect proportions.
Smooth, lightly tanned skin covered flat muscles that rippled as he turned even more to give her a better view of the letters that marched straight down the middle of his spine.
In that moment Rhett wanted nothing more than to run her hands up his back, feel its heat and strength against her palms right before she started kissing her way up, following the path of the tattoo.
Oh, right. The tattoo. A deep breath helped push her more carnal thoughts to the back of her mind, and she leaned forward to see better.
"If it's done right, once is enough," she read aloud. To her mortification, her voice broke a little on the last two words since she was reading them from just above the low-slung waistband of his jeans. And oh, how she wished there was more to read.
"You'll never know how relieved I am that I didn't have the beginning of the quote put on, too." Rhys pulled his shirt down and stretched out again.
"What's the beginning?"
"'You only live once.' If I was running round with YOLO on my back, I'd never take off my shirt." He glanced up as a rumble of thunder sounded over Fort Worth. "Thor agrees with me."
Rhett laughed under her breath and looked west. Her smile faded at the sight of the bank of angry black clouds headed their way.
"Thor, nothing. It's about to storm like a big dog.
" A gust of almost cold wind proved her right as it sailed in ahead of the coming clouds.
It picked up droplets of rain and splattered them over Rhett's feet, and she swung her legs off the lounger. "Time to head inside."
"Storm like a big dog, hm? So, does this mean we need to get the lock boxes and head to the storage level?" Rhys asked as they dragged the chairs closer to the wall of windows.
Rhett cast another glance at the sky. "No, that storm isn't tall enough. And that isn't a wall cloud."
Paused in the act of picking up the cooler, Rhys gave her a blank look. "I'm sorry. What?"