“I’m available whenever you are.”
“How about tomorrow night? I can help you eat some of these leftovers because you, my dear, will never be able to finish it yourself.”
“It’s like you can see right into my soul, Rhett Dillon,” she says and giggles. “Yes, please, come eat dinner here. Heck, you can come by every night until you’re sick of the casserole.”
As much as I want to take her up on that offer, I just smirk. “A home-cooked meal, especially when it’s offered by a pretty lady, is somethin’ I’ll never turn down. Thank you for thinkin’ of me, Brynlee.”
It’s the truest statement I’ve ever made. Having her think of me makes me feel like the king of the world.
Chapter Five
Brynlee
Ichanged my outfit five times, changed my hair three, and fixed my makeup twice before Rhett showed up. And when he did, he complimented me and handed me wildflowers.
Something about Rhett makes me nervous in a way I’ve never felt before. Probably because I like him more than any man I’ve ever wanted to be with before. He awakens something deepinside that’s never been allowed to come to the surface until now.
“Can I ask you somethin’?” Rhett asks, shoving a forkful of casserole into his mouth. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
Talking with his mouth full should disgust me, but I find it endearing. Like he wants to eat what I’ve made just as much as he wants to talk to me, and neither option can quite win.
“Go ahead,” I say, bracing myself. It’s rare for anything good to come after that type of opening.
“Are you single?”
I moved into this house to start fresh, and he doesn’t think I’m single? “Yes.”
“Sorry, I just wanted to check. I didn’t think any man would be in his right mind to let you drive out here by yourself, and I didn’t see a ring. But I also can’t wrap my head around someone not swoopin’ you up yet.”
“I was engaged, but I’m not anymore,” I admit. “My turn.”
“Shoot.”
Smiling, I tilt my head. “You said Clint, the electrician, was one of your brothers. How many siblings do you have?”
“I’m one of eight.”
I choke on my water. “You’re lying.”
“No, ma’am.”
“That’s officially the end of me hoping to have a small number of children in this town.”
“You can make that call,” Rhett says with a laugh. “But if you were my girl, I’d give you as many babies as you’d let me.”
If I was his girl. Does this mean he likes me? Or wants me to be his? It feels like flirting, but it also feels like normal conversation. “Is that right?”
“Hell, I would figure out how to make it work with seventeen kids.”
Coughing again, I hold my hand to my chest. “Seventeen? That’s like being pregnant for at least a decade straight. That’s how you get on TV shows. Which you need to support that many kids.”
He smiles at me. “I’m kiddin’. Sort of. I’m too old to have seventeen kids unless there were twins or triplets somewhere.”
“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”
A shadow crosses his face. “Thirty-five.”
“That’s not old. I’m twenty-six, but I feel older.”
