Page 35 of How Dare You
“My plans?” She gives me her full irritated attention. “You took away all my plans. I’m stuck here in this trailer all day. I’m probably going to stretch and then sit outside and draw a cactus.”
“That does sound restful, which I’m told you’re supposed to be doing.” When she doesn’t respond I add, “Resting. Allie said you need to rest.”
She glares at her plate, taking an aggressive stab of potatoes. “I’ve rested more in the past two days than I have in the last two months. I need something to do.”
Get it together, McCoy. “Well, in that case, maybe you’d like to see the house today?”
Her eyes shoot up to meet mine, giving me the full weight of her fiercest glare. “What house?”
Devon
“My house,” he answers, furrowing his brow like it’s ridiculous I haven’t figured it out on my own.
My fingers run through my hair, still wet from the shower. “Are we not in your house right now?”
He laughs, hitting me with his damn smile. “We’re in my current home, but I also have a house that needs some work.”
What the actual fuck? “You have a house ‘that needs some work,’ and I’ve been sitting around drawing desert flowers for two days?”
His gray eyes light up. “I didn’t know you drew. I’d like to see those.”
“Do not change the subject, Rhett McCoy.” I try to level him with a glare, but I’m finding they have less and less impact on him with each day that passes. My usual defenses-glares, harsh words, general unlikability don’t work on him, and I cannot figure out how to feel about it.
He takes an exaggerated bite of his taco, which incidentally, is one of the best breakfasts I’ve ever had, making me wait for his response. “There is a house. We can go after breakfast.”
A house. He didn’t make this up to trick me into staying in the desert with him. Those cursed butterflies return. He has an actual project for me to work on. He let me rest for a couple days first, which was misguided. He needs to learn he doesn’t make decisions for me. But a house to work on? He didn’t lie to me? Those are major points in his favor.
I am in so much trouble. He’s attracted to me, which is obvious, and he seemed genuinely hurt at the idea that I didn’t realize he enjoys my company. Pushing people away, rejecting them before they have a chance to reject me, protects me from getting hurt. It’s been years since I let someone in enough that they had an opportunity to hurt me. Last time I did, I ended up so devastated I almost missed my own college graduation. But whether I like it or not, I’m involved with Rhett now.
We take his truck on the dirt road Bea drove me in on, but there is a split in it that I didn’t notice before. Instead of turning west toward the highway, he turns east, driving along the opposite side of the low hills the trailer backs up to. After a couple minutes, a roofline comes into view. The house is on the opposite side of the hills from the trailer, but they’re tall enough to block the sound of construction and my view when I run north every morning. If I’d been running this way, or even tried to run around the base of the hill, I would have found it on my own.
He brings the truck to a stop where I imagine a driveway will be eventually, parking it under an overhang from the roof. The lot is gorgeous, and the house is situated beautifully with 360-degree unobstructed views of the desert.
As it stands, the house is barely more than a roof and studs. “Just a little work, huh?”
He laughs, coming around to open my door. This time I accept his hand when he offers it to help me down. It’s warm and firm around my fingers, and I’m struck with a flash of how good it felt that night in June when he held my hand the whole way through the golf course. He doesn’t linger this time, though, dropping it immediately. I ignore my disappointment.
Some people would only see concrete, 2x6s and a roof, but I can see the bones of the stunning modern ranch-style home it will become. Thankfully, he has set up the finished garage as a workspace. He explains the small rooms next to it will be a laundry and bath followed by an open floor plan kitchen, living, and dining area, which is separated from the bedrooms by the foyer and an interior courtyard that will lead to a pool.
He lets me take my time to assess each space as he leads me through the layout. On the opposite side of the foyer, there is a study, two more baths, three bedrooms and then all the way at the back is the primary suite.
“You’ve got room for your whole family, don’t you?”
“Hopefully I’ll have a wife and kids to fill it up someday, yeah.” His casual response catches me off guard. “Once this is built, I want to stay put.”
Surprise. Butterflies. Jealousy. It’s too much to process, so I say nothing and continue down the hall toward what will be his room. And his wife’s. There’s jealousy again.
There is blocking for a massive picture window and enough space to put a separate seating area underneath, but then the bed would need to go—I turn around, assessing the room. The bed could go against the same wall as the door, but then it may block the walking path to the closet. I haven’t even seen the closet.
Bed placement and Rhett’s imaginary wife temporarily forgotten, I cross the space to the closet. It’s huge—a dream. And with Rhett’s carpentry skills, there would be a custom organization system for shoes, accessories, and more than enough hanging room for anything else.
“And a floor length mirror here,” I begin thinking out loud, pointing to the wall opposite the closet door. “And a smaller one on this wall.” I turn to the side, smiling ear to ear.
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Rhett responds, leaning against the closet door’s frame, where I hadn’t realized he was close enough to hear every word I’ve said to myself. “Two mirrors in here. Makes sense, though.”
The look in his eyes is sincere interest. I expected pride, arrogance, perhaps even amusement. But he watches me intently, like he’s searching for something. Approval? I’m far too wrapped up in imagining how this house will turn out to mask my emotions, so I’m unsure what he sees in my reaction.
“Is this where you’ve been all week?” I ask.