Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Audrey
There was something so heartwarming about the way Rhett spoke about his hometown.
Roseville was a rural town twenty-five miles east of the city, one that didn’t get much attention.
But as we rolled through the two-lane main street under the setting sun, and people waved to us, I couldn’t help but smile.
It felt like I just entered a Hallmark movie.
“So, this is where you grew up?” I murmured, looking out the window at a lit up gazebo in the middle of the town's park.
“Born and raised. It’s simple here, but it’s home.” I nod in response, though I don’t know how it feels to be sentimental about home. I left at eighteen and never looked back.
“It’s really charming. I’ve never spent any time out here. Other than the Bourbon Barrel, I guess,” I admit sheepishly.
“Well, I'm honored to be your guide. I actually live just a mile down this road.” He points ahead as we turn down a narrow road, lined with tall vegetation on one side. A farm of sorts.
“Here we are...” Rhett announces as the truck slows its roll.
We turn left into a long, winding gravel driveway, lined with oak trees that spread their roots far into the green grass.
Rhett cranks the window down, and I glance over at him, noticing his other arm draped lazily over the steering wheel.
As the tree line ends, a small, white two-story house comes into view.
“Home, sweet home,” Rhett says wistfully, and I smile because it’s exactly as I pictured it when he said he lived in a farmhouse.
The house was complete with a wraparound porch and aged tin roof.
The expansive porch was full of mismatched items; a dining table with chippy blue paint and different sized chairs around it, and a rocking chair sat next to an antique looking bookcase with potted plants and herbs.
I didn’t take him for a gardener. Though, he does keep surprising me.
Then there was a collection of rocks piled on the steps, and a few tennis balls scattered. Probably Mabel’s.
We parked next to an enormous oak tree with a wooden swing hanging from it.
“We definitely aren’t in the city anymore,” I said, feeling like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz.
Rhett lets out a hearty laugh, shaking his head in a way that makes my cheeks warm. “It needs a lot of work. The steps are loose, so be careful when you walk up. The second floor is completely gutted, but I bought it for the land, really. It’s peaceful out here. A man can think.”
When my shoes hit the grass, I draw in a deep breath, and it smells like I’m a million miles from home. A million miles from that restaurant. It feels like I stepped into someone else’s life. And I like it.
‘Someone else’s life’ was good to me.
“Okay, so chill right here. It’ll just be a few minutes, and I’ll be right back to show you the plan.” Rhett rubs his hands together, a coy grin on his face. Hesitation pulls at my stomach, as he gently takes the take-out bag of sushi from my hands.
“Show me what, exactly?”
“Don’t you worry about it. You’re gonna like it.” His self-assurance was both infuriating and appealing.
“And if I don’t?” I muse, hands on my hips.
“Then I’ll drive you home and you’ll never see me again.”
My body stiffens at that suggestion.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Audrey.” He winks and leaves me standing in his front yard as he walks around the corner of the house.
I don’t know what to do as I stand there in between the truck and the oak tree, so I walk to the tree swing and sit down gingerly, pushing my feet in the grass, swinging back and forth.
How did I get here?
The sky has turned a dark pink, with wispy clouds of purple woven through, and it looks like they sit right on the house’s tin roof. It’s breathtaking really, so I pull out my phone to snap a picture and send it to Penny. She replies immediately.
Penny: So pretty! But where are you? I need proof of life.
Audrey: I’m at Rhett’s house, dinner was a bust, but I’ll fill you in later. He is setting up a ‘surprise’ for me right now in the backyard.
Penny: Okay, so you’re either about to get fucked or murdered.
Audrey: Penny! You’re honestly the worst.
Penny: I know.
Audrey: Also, I’m not getting murdered OR going to sleep with him. This is just dinner that turned into something different. It’s a ‘friend date’.
Penny: Have you checked out his ass or pictured his lips on you? Because if you say yes, sorry to break it to you, it’s not a ‘friend date’. Whatever the hell that even is.
Instantly, my throat grows tight, and my patience wears thin. I hear movement from the backyard but can’t see a damn thing. I have no more time to contemplate what to do next, though, because a blur of reddish-brown fur comes barreling around the corner of the house straight towards me.
The dog matches the photo Rhett showed me earlier today, when I thought Mabel was his girlfriend. As I stand from the swing to greet the infamous Miss Mabel, Rhett’s husky voice sounds from the side of the house.
“Dammit, Mabel!”
“Hi there, pretty girl,” I cooed, squatting down to pet the bloodhound who was demanding my full attention. She is big but was still a puppy with giant paws, and even larger ears.
Rhett comes jogging towards me with his shirt unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest. Oh, my god, Penny is right. This is a booty call and I’m just so damn naive. I wrap my arms around me, even though Mabel is still nudging my legs with her wet nose.
“Sorry ‘bout that. Like I said, she’s got no manners. Or knows how to sit and stay.” Rhett whistles for Mabel, who pays him no mind.
“Who needs manners when you’re this cute?
” Mabel leans on me, her droopy eyes making it impossible not to pet her more.
I have a particular weakness for wrinkly dogs.
Growing up, I begged my parents for an English bulldog, but that proved to be fruitless.
Then I met Jackson, who disliked dogs, claiming it was because he was allergic.
But there had never been proof of that, either.
“Everything's set up, you ready?” Rhett gestures toward the backyard, pausing to let me catch up before falling into step beside me.
Parts of his property were in rough shape, but there was a rustic beauty to it.
The house was small, the white paint peeling in some spots, and the bare garden beds desperately needed some love, but I loved the honesty of it all.
Unlike my polished apartment, this place felt like a home.
The wind blew my navy skirt up around my knees and Mabel trotted noisily beside me, claiming me as her new best friend, with Rhett on the other side of me. I glanced at his biceps, straining against his shirt, and thought about what Penny said.
I couldn’t be sure anymore if this was a ‘friend date’.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t.
But as fast as the thought came into my head, it left.
Because I couldn’t belong here. In four months, I’d be leaving this state for good.
My mouth parts with pure surprise as we round the corner, and the backyard comes into view.
We walk right into what looks like an outdoor theater, complete with twinkle lights and dinner.
Our food was arranged on a coffee table in front of a U-shaped outdoor sofa.
It was nicer than I was expecting, and I didn’t know what to say.
“Welcome to my backwoods movie theater.” Rhett winks, dropping onto the outdoor sofa, his arms stretched over the back.
I sat down next to him, my ankles neatly crossed and tucked close.
“Thanks for suggesting we leave the restaurant.” I puff out my cheeks and release a quiet chuckle. “I think I like this better.”
In all my time with Jackson, he’d never set up anything like this. He bought me expensive gifts and took me on vacations his assistant planned. He didn’t think on the spot or do romantic dates.
This was different.
Mabel’s nose twitches in the air as she squeezes between Rhett and my legs. I pop a piece of sushi in my mouth, moaning at how good it tastes right now.
“I get one more question, then we can discuss what we’ll watch,” he says, and I laugh, averting my eyes away from him. Something about the way he looks at me makes me feel like I’m wearing my heart on the outside of my skin. Like I can’t hide anything.
“Okay, but I’m not very interesting. You’re going to be disappointed,” I said but he just shrugged a bit.
“I don’t believe that one bit.” Rhett leans in, his elbows on his knees, flexing his muscular arms.
“Okay…ask away.”
“Tell me something about yourself that might surprise me.”
I ponder it for a minute, scratching Mabel’s ears as I do.
“Okay, fine…but you can’t make fun of me.”
“Promise.” He smirked.
“One of my absolute favorite things to do is bake.” I pause, waiting for backlash but it doesn’t come. “I used to bake when I was stressed. I am actually really good.”
“Wait, I’m confused.” He scrubs his jaw. “Who the hell would make fun of something like that?”
“Because it’s cliche, it’s pedestrian.”
Rhett shakes his head vigorously. “Well, you’re wrong. Baking takes skill, and it makes you happy. Ain't nothing cliche or dumb about that.”
“Thanks.” I bite my lip as the butterflies swarm my stomach.
“So, why don’t you bake anymore? You said you used to.”
“Oh. Well, I got busy with my job, with life…” With wedding planning, with pleasing a man who I was never good enough for. “And Jackson used to hate it when I baked. He thought it was a waste of time, so I sort of just stopped.”
I knew it sounded weak. And I hated myself for bringing up Jackson in front of Rhett.
“Okay, well, that’s the dumbest shit I ever heard,” Rhett retorted, and when our gaze meets, I crack a smile, making him smile, too. “Hell, if someone wanted to bake for me, I'd be bowing down at their feet.”
Just like that, I swear a piece of my heart clicked back into place.
“Not everyone is as appreciative as you,” I muse, gently tapping his knee with my fingertips.
“So, tell me about Rhett,” I say, quickly pulling my hand back to my lap.
“First, I don’t bake.” We both laugh. “I’m a carpenter; learned the trade from my mom’s father. I was born and raised down the street in the house my mom still lives in. I spend most of my time here, with Mabel. And I’m a homebody who has an unhealthy obsession with old movies and old music.”
“You forgot that you save people who find themselves crying on rooftops, and you help move strangers when their moving company ghosts them…and you have the world's cutest dog. Anything else I’m missing?” I tease.
“You forgot to add I have incredible taste in women.” He leans forward and my breath hitches.
“Oh…” I pop another piece of sushi into my mouth, leaning back against the cushions of the sofa, my heart dropping into my stomach. “So, what are we watching?”
But the movie didn’t really matter. Rhett puts on a classic I've seen a million times, but even if it was something new, I wouldn’t have been able to follow the storyline.
The words wouldn’t have made sense. Just like the feelings stirring inside of me as I sit here next to Rhett with string lights above me, a dog at my feet, and the peace of the country around me.
I don’t know how I ended up here, and part of me wants to run; far, far away.
But the other part of me never wants to leave.
Halfway through the movie, I have to use the bathroom.
Rhett leads me inside, holding the old screen door open, as I walk into the kitchen.
The white cabinets and butcher block countertops are charming, and the original pine floors creak as I walk across them.
The kitchen was definitely renovated, but there’s also a mixture of bachelor pad items, like the folding chairs at the beautiful farmhouse dining table.
I think back to the showroom-esque home I shared with Jackson, and overwhelming warmth fills my chest.
This is what a home is supposed to be, for most people, I think.
Rhett taps his knuckles on the bathroom door. “I’ll wait for you outside. But would you like anything to drink?” He points over his shoulder at a vintage style refrigerator.
“Do you have Diet Coke by chance?” I asked, crinkling my nose.
“Of course, I have Diet Coke.” Rhett smirks. “But the question is, do you want whiskey in it?”
“Of course.”
“That’s my girl,” Rhett said, turning on his heels back into the kitchen.
Thank god, because my face turned bright red as I ducked into the bathroom. I grip the pedestal sink and attempt to clear my head.
Rhett was back outside by the time I came out, so I took a moment to linger inside. It’s not polite to snoop, but I can’t help but look at the gallery wall of family photos in the hallway.
There were photos of what I could only assume was a young Rhett.
They were adorable. One was him standing next to a river with an older man’s arm around him.
Another was a photo of a pretty woman with the same blue eyes hugging what I'd assume was Rhett a few years back.
And the most precious of all was a picture of Mabel under a Christmas tree with a red bow around her neck.
I’d wager that under the tough exterior of the rugged man sitting outside waiting for me, was a soft heart.
I could only hope.
Because for most of my life, I was surrounded by cold exteriors and colder hearts disguised as love.