Page 15 of Rhett Redeemed
I walk over to her, her vanilla scent hitting me before she even notices me. “Hello.”
“Hey.” She smiles, glancing up in surprise. Most people seem to rave on about blue or light-colored eyes, but when those brown eyes look at me, I suddenly feel weak in the knees. Nothing is as beautiful. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“We must be creatures of habit.” I grin, sitting down next to her.
She smirks back, resting her chin on her palm, her dark hair a curtain around her pretty face. She looks fucking cute, wearing a denim dress and red lipstick.
“You here alone?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she replies. “I am now. My friend Jamie left, so I was just about to get out of here.”
“And now that I’m here?”
“And now...” She bites her bottom lip seductively. “I’m still about to go home.”
I laugh out loud. She has fire, and I like that. “Ahh, come on now. Have a drink. Or some of my chicken wings when they arrive.”
She pauses and tilts her head to the side. “I suppose I could stay for a chicken wing. And for some company. Going home to an empty house every night is getting a little old. It’s so...quiet.”
I scan her eyes, surprised by her vulnerability. “I know what you mean. I try to stay home, but it never happens. I always need the distraction.” I’ve never admitted that out loud to anyone.
Our eyes connect and hold. “Well, I’m glad we ran into each other then.”
“Me too,” I say softly.
“So I’m embarrassed to ask this, but what is your name?”
I laugh, realizing that we may have swapped bodily fluids but have yet to formally introduce ourselves. I reach my hand out for her to shake. “I’m Rhett.”
She smiles and places her delicate, warm hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. “Constance, but people call me Con.”
“Not Connie?” I ask, teasing her.
She makes a face. “No, please never Connie.”
I order her a drink, and then we get talking, and I find out we actually have a fair bit in common. We like the same kind of music and bands, and she’s into outdoorsy shit like camping, four-wheel driving and fishing, which does surprise me. She also seems to have a girlie side, so she is quite the walking contradiction. She appears to know how to have a good time out of the bedroom too, which is really cool. I’ve never met a woman who has so many similar interests to me, including Cara.
“I can’t believe you play the guitar, too,” I say, studying her.
“I haven’t played in a few months, to be honest,” she says. “Have you ever been to the open mic nights here? Some really cool bands come and play. I think you’d really like them.”
“I haven’t, but I’d like to. Can you sing, too?”
“A little,” she replies, looking down shyly.
“I’d love to hear that,” I say quietly.
“Maybe one day,” she replies. “When is the last time you went camping?”
“It’s been a while actually,” I admit, realizing that I haven’t really been doing much outside of the club. “I was supposed to do a beach trip with my friends recently, but I had to cancel because I’ve been so busy. How about you?”
“I went camping by myself a couple of months ago. Off the grid, no internet.”
“That sounds pretty amazing, like a reset.”
She nods. “It was.”
“I don’t know any woman who would do something like that by themselves. In a group, yes, but not alone.”