Chapter 6
SIX
SAGE
When I lick my lips, I can still taste Rhett on my tongue. The kiss replays in my mind over and over again as I flip through the photos he sent me, the ones that commemorate our marriage.
The license, real and physical, sits in my lap weighing more than it should.
It’s real.
I don’t know if I should be terrified or mad.
Terrified over how real this feels. The kiss didn’t feel fake. It’d been like a dream come true—though, doing it in front of strangers instead of my loved ones kind of sucked. But nothing about it felt like playing pretend. Like the fake relationship we’re saying we have.
And then there’s the anger in me, flickering like an old flame that needs to go out, but won’t.
It’d been so simple. So quick and easy.
Why had Scott been so lazy about it when we could have done that? We could have gone to the courthouse and had it over within an hour. That would have been enough for me. I would have been more than happy with something easy like that because I’d wanted to be his wife.
My hand clenches, frustrated tears burning my eyes as I sit back. And somehow, Rhett notices. Because he’s attentive. And although this is fake, he still actually cares about me.
What takes me by surprise though, is him taking my hand from my lap and pulling it into his own. “You want to talk about it?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.
Snow drifts lazily, piling on either side of the winding mountain road. The thought of being trapped in his cabin should have made me scared, but instead I like the idea of getting to hide away from everything for a few days while we wait for the snow to settle—or in my case, the dust.
Because once Scott learns we’re married for real, I don’t know what he’ll do.
I shrug, sliding down in my seat. “Not really,” I reply, releasing a heavy breath. I can’t help but glance down at the certificate again. The reality of it hasn’t really sunk in.
Rhett clears his throat. “But you’re thinking about…him.”
I look at him, eyes widening. “How did you—” I sit up as he cuts me off.
“You get this look on your face,” he says, glancing at me. His features are hard, not revealing anything. But his eyes…
There’s a look in them I can’t read.
“What look?” I ask, part curious—part stubborn. He doesn’t know me well enough to know I get a look when I think about Scott.
Rhett lets go of my hand briefly to pull into his long driveway, then takes my fingers again before I can pull away.
“You get this noticeable line between your eyebrows. And you look mad, sad, and irritated all at the same time. You sometimes chew your lips when you’re thinking—and a lot of your thoughts seem to centre around him. Even though he doesn’t deserve it.”
Snorting, I sit back, though my heart races. “You couldn’t have really noticed that.” He is right, though. Right that so many of my thoughts revolve around Scott. Right that I do make a face, because Delilah has pointed it out to me before.
“I did,” he says, looking at me again, this time softly. “I notice a lot of things.”
My belly clenches, a warmth filling me. The sincerity of his words rushes through me full force. I don’t get the impression he’s lying, but I should know better than to let my guard down.
Even around this protective mountain man.
By the time we reach the cabin, the roof is covered in a light dusting of snow, the ground soft when I step out of the truck.
The trees glint in the afternoon sunlight peeking through the clouds.
Up here on the mountain, it’s a winter wonderland.
I hate to admit how perfect it is up here, because I can only imagine what my home currently looks like.
“I’ll get the fire started,” Rhett says as he heaves a couple of grocery bags from the back. I round the truck to give him a hand, but he just shakes his head. “I’ve got it, princess. Keys are in my pocket. Can you get the door?”
Something about him calling me princess has my belly fluttering for an entirely different reason. And that warmth I’ve been shoving down reignites in my chest, flickering incessantly.
Bad, bad, bad, I think, knowing damn well this won’t end well.
In a few months, we’ll get a divorce, and it’ll all be over. By then, Scott will have hopefully moved on, and I’ll be free to live my quiet little life again—no men included.
Ducking my head, I go to his pocket and dig out his keys, all the while trying to ignore how good he smells. Once they’re in hand, I rush ahead, climbing the steps and making it to the door before I can look like an idiot for sniffing him.
On the other side of the door, Shadow whines, pawing lightly at the wood. “Don’t worry, girl. We’re coming,” I murmur, shoving it open with a sigh.
The black lab dances back and comes to me easily, nosing my hand while I hold the door open for Rhett. I give her a gentle pat, noticing the way her back legs move together like she’s hopping rather than walking.
Rhett’s smile is soft when he sees Shadow, and there’s something about that has me…
No. I shake my head and once he’s in the door, I get it closed behind him. There’s a pile of wood already by the fireplace, so dropping his keys on the counter, I start for it.
“Leave that to me,” Rhett says from the small kitchen. “You should check on the kittens.”
Right. But I’ve already set my sights on being helpful, not just someone who lazes around someone else’s home while they take care of everything. I refuse to be a terrible guest, and it doesn’t take rocket science to build a fire.
“I’ve got it,” I call back, trying to keep my voice light. “Anyway, it’s the least I can do.”
“Sage,” he warns, voice sending shivers down my spine.
But I grab the first piece of wood, and it splinters into my hand.
I hiss, dropping it back onto the pile, and stare at the nail sized piece of wood protruding from my palm. “Shit.”
One moment Rhett is in the kitchen, and the next he’s beside me, one arm going around my waist while the other gently takes my hand.
For a brief moment, I expect him to be mad. Scott would have been. He would have shouted. Called me a stupid bitch for not listening. Told me to fix the problem because I made it, not him.
My heart pounds, racing erratically as I wait for him to snap. Wait for the inevitable shoe to drop. Because surely, he’s not always so kind and caring.
But Rhett never does. Because he’s not Scott.
“We can get this fixed up,” he says, gruff voice gentle. “Come. Sit and I’ll get the first aid kit.”
“I am so sorry,” I reply, voice shaky as I stare at the splinter. “You said—”
“Hey.” He captures my cheek, forcing me to look at him. The deep colour of his eyes is almost calming. “Don’t be sorry.”
I can’t get my racing heart under control, and the way he’s looking at me now only makes it worse.
There is not a single ounce of anger in his gaze.
Such a silly accident would have had Scott muttering under his breath about how stupid I could be, but Rhett actually looks concerned—worried about me.
Why does a man I’ve known for all of two days look more concerned over my splinter than a man who was supposed to love me did about my last miscarriage?
Why does Rhett already care more for me than Scott ever did?
It’s terrifying and electrifying all at once.
And it betrays everything I set out to do when I came to Willow Ridge.
When I decided to leave Denver, I told myself I wouldn’t fall for anyone ever again.
No more love, no more dreams of a grand wedding and babies and a husband who actually loves me and treats me right.
When I got here, I gave up on the dream of being a Mom. And yet here he is, showing me he could be the perfect father for the children I’ll never be able to have.
With every kind act and soft look Rhett passes me, all those promises I made myself go out the window.