by Lucia Grace
“Yeah, well, first time for everything.”
“You’re sure about her?”
I scoff. “Nash, I never—fucking ever—thought I’d let myself fall for a chick. Didn’t want the hassle. Didn’t want the worry. Didn’t want to let myself get hooked and then risk losing her. Wouldn’t be able to take it.” Taking a minute, I inhale a deep breath to help clear the memories this conversation has invading my mind.
Of being thirteen and getting the news at school that my parents had been killed in an accident. Of spending five long years with a woman who couldn’t give two shits about me and Saylor. The memories that have kept me maintaining my distance and not caring about anyone but Saylor, Gus, and most recently Nash.
Nash lets me have a minute, eyeing me with concern. Then I go on. “But Kennedy, she has me wanting to change my ways. One look and I was fucking gone, man. Couldn’t believe it—still can’t. But if she’s willing to give me a shot, I know she’s the one, and you’d have to bury me six feet under to have me let her go.”
Nash nods his head. Serious. Contemplating something before speaking. “Then let’s go get your girl.”
I look at him like he’s lost his mind. “She ain’t my girl.” As much as I want her to be.
“What’s this? You sounding all defeated and wounded and shit. This ain’t the Rhett Shaw I know. The Rhett I know would be dragging his club on his way to claiming his woman.”
“Is this some sort of pep talk, dude?”
“You bet your ass it is. Now get up and let’s go. We have a few hours before we need to open. She may not be your girl yet, but she never will be be if you just sit here and do nothin’.”
I fucking hate to admit when he’s right. So I don’t.
“A little red-haired firecracker may have spilled the beans on their plans this afternoon before their shifts tonight. And we’ve got hours yet until the shop officially opens…”
Goddamn he’s right again. Saylor said something about shopping today at the mall.
That has me hauling ass outta my chair and the shop, ready to see my angel, Nash laughing behind me as he follows.
GROWING UP, AND EVEN INTO adulthood, I never had any friends. Well, none of the female variety.
As a little girl, I was always afraid there was something wrong with me. And I guess there was. I was different from everyone else in town. I didn’t have a family, no one to care about or for me. Nobody wanted to play with the weird little girl who moved all the time and wore dirty, raggedy clothes.
And as I got older I feared the same thing, until I realized they were just intimidated by me. Not so much me, but how I looked. Always afraid I’d steal their boyfriends or the boys they liked. Never caring to get to know the me beneath it all.
When I was never accepted, I turned to the only affections I could get. From the boys in school. They were the same as the men of my twenties. Making me think they cared, pretending they wanted more, getting what they wanted while using me for what they could get out of me—or for what they could get me to do—and tossing me aside when they were done.
It didn’t matter how many times it happened, how many times I had to pick myself back up. I still fell down the same rabbit hole each and every time.
I gained quite the reputation, which only gave girls more of a reason to shun me.
That’s why it’s weird being here with Saylor, looking through racks and racks of clothing and shoes. Chatting and laughing as we go.
I’ve never done this with anyone before. Never shared a day out with a girlfriend shopping.
It may not be my favorite thing to do, but having Saylor to shop with definitely makes it more fun.
“What do you think about this?” I ask as I hold up a fitted, black lace boat neck, long-sleeved shirt for Saylor’s inspection.
She smirks a sly smile. “That’s hot as hell, girl. Have anybody in mind for that top?”
I roll my eyes.
“What?” she asks incredulously. “I know a certain somebody who’d love to see you in that.” I look up to see her waggling her eyebrows.
“From what I’ve heard, that certain someone I’m sure you’re talking about has enough ladies dressing just for him already.”
“But those ladies aren’t the ones he wants. Which is you.”
“I’m sure,” I state. Not believing her. Or trying not to.
Her tone gets serious then. “I’ve really never seen him like this, Kennedy.”
I stop pushing the clothes along the rack and look up at Saylor. “You’ve said that before…”
“Because it’s the truth. He doesn’t fawn over women and practically beg for their time. He never has. Hell, he has been begging, and that’s sure as shit nothing he’s ever done before.”
I roll my eyes, not believing it though I hope it’s true. Being first for once. Actually being worth an effort for more than a good time between the sheets.
“It’s true,” she yells out, causing the eyes of a few store patrons to swing our way. “He’s never had to and yeah, that may sound bad, but even if some skank didn’t give him the time of day, he’d move on and leave it be. But with you? He hasn’t left you alone, and he’s stopped all his manwhoring since that first night he saw you. And for him to stop that bed hopping is a feat, doll.”
“It’s been a week, Saylor. Seven whole days. You’re not doing a very good job in pleading his case,” I warn her. Feeling uneasy at the thought.
“I’m just saying, that’s what he does—did. Before you, that’s what he did. After our parents died, he shut down emotionally and focused on getting us out of where we were forced to move to and taking care of me. That was it. He stopped forming connections, and that started with just sleeping with girls and women and never getting involved.”
My heart bottoms out into my stomach. “Your parents died?” I ask lamely. Probably not the most appropriate time to ask questions to dig deeper, but that’s all I can focus on now that she’s said it.
She swallows deeply, a sad expression taking over her pretty face as she nods solemnly. “When I was ten and Rhett was twelve.”
“I’m so sorry,” I offer quietly. Not knowing what else to say.
Saylor nods again. “It’s okay. It happened a long time ago now, but I only brought it up to better explain how I know Rhett has changed in such a short amount of time. And it’s because of you.”
“I don’t know, Say…”
“Just take my word for it, okay? He’s changed. I know it. And if you give him the chance, he’ll be able to show you, too.”
My hand stills on the clothes rack between us as I get lost in thought. Taking everything in that she just said, wondering and hoping it to be true. Because there is something about Rhett Shaw that has me more hopeful than ever before.
“Look,” Saylor interrupts my wayward thoughts. “I know this move was meant to help you find yourself, but what if all along you were meant to find Rhett?” she asks as she comes around and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You just think about that. Now enough of the heavy. I’m starved. Let’s go find some yummy food.”
I nod my agreement, lost in a daze because of her words, but all too ready to leave talk of Rhett behind. For now anyway, because I know Saylor will have more to say on the matter. If there’s anything I’ve learned about her since we met, it’s that she isn’t afraid to speak her mind and get her point across.
As we’re leaving the store and heading into the main concourse of the mall, we’re talking arm in arm about where we should stop for lunch when Saylor’s eyes shoot up and widen.
“Well, big brother, fancy meeting you here.”
Looking up ahead, I see Rhett and his best friend, Nash, walking our way.
Swagger and charm strong. So strong every eye of every woman—young and old—is following them. They don’t seem to notice though. Just keep on like they aren’t the biggest and best-looking things in this mall.
We all stop in the middle where we meet.
> “Oh, hey, Say.” Rhett clears his throat and runs a hand through his always-rumpled, dark hair. “Kennedy,” he says as he chin lifts.
His smooth, dark voice saying my name ripples over my skin. Causing goosebumps to rise.
I shift and reply with a softly spoken, “Hey, guys.”
“Smooth, asshole.” I think I hear Nash murmur while Saylor just eyes them.
“So…what do you two just happen to be doing here? At the mall. On a Saturday afternoon. After I told you we’d be coming here.” Saylor raises an eyebrow at her brother and his best friend. Arms crossed over her chest, smirk firmly in place as she taps a high-heeled foot.
Nash chuckles through a “Think you know the answer to that, firecracker.”
Rhett glares at his friend before swinging it to his sister. “Needed a few things for the shop, so I thought we’d hit up the mall for supplies.”
“You couldn’t order them online like you normally do?”
“Needed them now,” he grits through clenched teeth.
“Right,” she replies. Not sounding one bit like she believes him.
I just stand about, unsure and uncomfortable because I have no idea what’s going on. But I’m beginning to get an idea with the way Saylor’s looking at her brother.
“What are you fine ladies up to now?” Nash breaks the awkward silence stretching between the group.
“Heading for some lunch,” I answer. Surprising everyone. Including myself.
“Great, I’m starved. Mind if we join you?”
I shake my head no and look up to see Rhett’s eyes on me. Heated and rich.
“We don’t mind at all.” Saylor speaks up. “You can buy us lunch, big brother,” she says through a big, white smile.
Twenty minutes later, the four of us are sitting at a high-top table in a pub near the mall. Saylor and Nash sat across from each other at the square table, leaving Rhett and myself to sit opposite as well. From the smirks on Saylor’s and Nash’s faces, I’d say it wasn’t an accident either. Just like this entire lunch.
The waitress comes over while I try to avoid the unfairly handsome face across from me, but I don’t miss the appreciative glances she tosses Rhett’s way. Or how she leans in extra close to point something out on the menu he must ask about.
Something akin to jealousy swirls through my tummy, but I lock that feeling down. Not letting it bubble and rise as it so desperately wants to. He isn’t mine. And he won’t be.
I need to remember that.
“Kennedy?” I hear Saylor’s voice ask me and my head pops up. Four sets of eyes look at me expectantly.
Rhett clears his throat. “Know what you want, angel?” His voice is soft and low, barely above audible, but loud enough for me to hear. And the rest of the table. So no one misses the endearment rolling off his tongue.
“Oh.” I must be bright red. “I’ll have a water with lemon and a Caesar salad. Extra croutons.” My smile is forced as I pass over the menu, my heart still pounding at hearing the term “angel” pass Rhett’s lips.
It never gets old.
Small talk between the three of them picks up as we wait for our food, with me listening in and adding my two cents when necessary. Talk of both the shop and the bar fills the time until the food arrives and we dig in.
Silence descends around us as we eat. But it isn’t uncomfortable which is…nice. And the entire afternoon, spent first with Saylor and then the three of them, has made me feel like I belong. Never once have they made me feel like an outsider.
Which I appreciate more than they could ever know.
“I’ve gotta use the restroom,” Saylor interrupts the silence and my thoughts after she finishes eating.
I level her with a look just as Nash says, “I better hit the can, too.” I roll my eyes at his candor.
The two of them walk to the back of the restaurant and then out of sight. I can’t help but wonder if that was all an act so they could get some alone time away from the table. Heck, who am I kidding? Of course it was. Saylor told me she’s had a thing for Nash for awhile now, and just recently they’ve started acting on those feelings when she found out Nash felt the same way.
Apparently from what she told me, Rhett doesn’t know, but I’d bet a hundred bucks he has a clue with the shake of his head he just gave.
Silence descends for a whole five seconds before Rhett speaks. “Go out with me.” His voice rumbles through the air like thunder between us.
“You don’t give up, do you?” I ask, exasperated.
“Now you’re catching on, angel.” He smiles that half-smile that lifts the right side of his mouth just slightly more than the left.
Gosh, that smile coupled with his rumpled, dark hair, neatly-trimmed beard, and all those tattoos. He wants to do me in, I just know it.
“Catching on to what?”
“My persistence and charm. The Shaw Effect.”
I roll my eyes. “Your sister mentioned something about that to me.”
“Did she now?” He asks through a smirk, leaning his forearms on the tabletop. “Well it’s a real thing.”
“I’ve no doubt the long line of girls you’ve left in your wake are a testament to that.”
His easy smile slips from his lips. “That’s the past and that’s where it’s going to stay. We all have one, Kennedy.”
Don’t I know it. “I know, I’m sorry.” Just like I’m sorry for the long line of men I’ve left behind, too.
“No need to apologize. I know I haven’t been a saint, but that all changed as soon as I saw you, angel. And I mean that. Ask anybody. Saylor, Gus, Nash. Any of them will tell you I haven’t been with a single soul since I first laid eyes on you.”
I look down at my hands in my lap as I start wringing them together. His honesty rattles me. And I know it’s honesty because Saylor has told me repeatedly that Rhett’s never acted this way, that he hasn’t been with anyone since he saw me that first day at In Ruins.
Though it rattles my cage—my heart frantic—like I told Saylor earlier, it’s only been a week. That’s hardly enough time to prove he’s serious about me. The old me would have fallen at his feet at day one. But the new me needs more than a week to be shown that I won’t be tossed aside just like every other time.
I look back up to say something—anything—but Saylor’s voice interrupts our talk. “You guys ready?”
From the look on Rhett’s handsome face I can tell it’s something he isn’t happy about.
When I look over to Saylor, I see her once perfectly sleek ponytail isn’t so neat anymore. And neither is her red lipstick. Looking to Nash standing behind her, I see he isn’t fairing any better.
And that shade of red really isn’t his color.
Either Rhett doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care to say anything. I’m sure his little sister and best friend together is something he’d rather not think about.
I eye both Saylor and Nash before answering. “Yeah, sure.”
When I go to pull out my wallet to pay for my portion of the bill, a large, warm, calloused hand covers both of mine. “I’ve got it,” Rhett practically growls. “Put your money away.”
“I can pay for my own; there’s no need that you have to.”
He shakes his head, but before he can say another word, Saylor interrupts. “Don’t even bother, doll. He’s a stubborn bastard.”
“She’s right.” Then he smirks. “Which means our talk isn’t over, angel.”
I swallow. Practically gulp.
“Not by a long shot.”
I WATCH HER MOVE ABOUT the room not for the first time. My regular spot at the bar affording me the perfect view of the entire place.
The perfect view of her.
My eyes haven’t left her since I walked in.
Like a predator stalking its prey, my eyes zeroed in on her as soon as I walked through the door.
It doesn’t matter that I saw her mere hours ago at lunch, after tracking her and my sister down at the mall. I have
a feeling I could see her every minute of every day, yet still want to hunt her down the second she’s out of my sight.
I’ll never get my fill. I know it.
So now I sit here and continue to watch her like I do most days and nights since she arrived into town—whenever I can get away from the shop when I know she’s working. Waiting as patiently as I can until I can find the time to finish the conversation we started earlier at lunch.
I watch the way she moves. How her lean yet stacked frame sways and rolls and glides along the beat-up wooden floors.
I watch the way she smiles kindly to each patron. Paying attention to every order, every word any of them says. And how her pale green eyes constantly take in her surroundings.
I watch the way the dim overhead lights cast what looks like a halo around her honey-brown hair. Making her look like the angel she is. And the way it causes her golden skin to glisten.
All that perfect, fucking flawlessly beautiful, unmarked skin.
I can’t help but fixate on it. Exposed from the short as fuck, light denim shorts and In Ruins tank top she’s sporting.
I take in every bare inch of her legs and arms and sliver of stomach that’s showing between her shorts and tank. Unmarked and so perfect and can’t help but imagine my mark on her.
In ink from my gun and in pink from my hand.
My jeans become even tighter if that’s possible. The constant hard-on I have when I’m around her growing by the second as my thoughts run wild with what I could do to her—in my chair and in my bed.
I imagine my inked and calloused hands running along the expanse of flawless, golden skin. Goosebumps rising in their wake. Marking her in ways she never imagined.
She walks by me then, taking me from my thoughts as she heads out back, and I can’t help but follow her.
My eyes zeroed in on her ass.
My dick still fucking raging.
My heart fucking pounding. Just for her.
She hasn’t given me the time of day since she waltzed her gorgeous ass into my life just a short week ago. She’s cordial and polite, her cheeks staining red whenever I’m around, but any advances I make, no matter how big or small, she shoots me down.
Much to Gus’s, Nash’s, and my sister’s enjoyment.
