I can’t help but laugh. The termfriendmeans something very different in the world I ran from. “Oh, I had over twenty women I could call to go to the spa with because of who I was with. When Mama died, they all came to the funeral. Not a single one askedhow I was holding up. No one checked on me. I never had real friends out there.”
“That’s so sad.”
“That’s okay. I’m glad Rhett has friends like you and Carter. And I’m ecstatic to have a friend like you, too. So… how about a tour?”
“I’d love one, partner.”
We stand and hug, and it feels just like I always thought having a real friendship with another person would feel like. Darla’s not just my friend because of my status or the status of the man I’m with. I know her through Rhett, but she’s not just pretending to be nice for appearances.
Who knew moving to a small town most people haven’t heard of would give me so much of what I needed in less than a month?
Chapter Sixteen
Rhett
Walking up to the door, I hope to surprise Brynlee. It’s Halloween, and she’s a little nervous about going into town for the party at the bar. We’ve kept a relatively low profile since the incident at the grocery store, but I need to integrate her into the community.
My biggest fear, besides her telling me our time is over, is Brynlee leaving Copperwood and going back to Chicago because she feels she doesn’t have a place here.
Knocking, I walk into the house like I have for weeks now. I stay here every night, and she’s offered me space in the closet. Which, from what I’ve heard from my sisters, is a great sign.
Brynlee hurries out of the hallway, stopping short as soon as she sees me. The corner of my mouth turns up as I smile. “Hey, baby.”
Her jaw drops. “Wow.”
“Do you like?”
“How?”
She finally moves towards me, circling around with an amazed look on her face that makes me chuckle. “Darla. I wanted to go all out for you.”
“She did good. I’m gonna have to fight the women off with a baseball bat. Good thing I’m channeling my inner Beth Dutton.”
We’ve watched TV together, and our tastes couldn’t be more different. I like sports, and she likes theFood NetworkandHGTV. But we both became obsessed withYellowstonewhile binge watching it one weekend, and I’m more than pleasantly surprised to find her attracted to Rip rather than Kayce. Or Jamie. She does love her some Kevin Costner, though, which did shock me a bit.
“I’m so glad we decided on a couple’s costume,” she says with a wide smile. “You look amazing, baby. I mean, you always look good, but wow. I really feel like I’m looking at a slimmer version of Rip.”
Well, if that comment didn’t just boost my self-esteem higher than it’s ever been. “You look even better than Kelly Reilly.”
“That’s a lie, but I’ll take it,” she says. “I can’t stop staring.”
She looks fantastic in her floral, flowy dress and tall suede boots. Stepping into the shoes of Beth Dutton wouldn’t be hardfor Brynlee. She doesn’t quite have the attitude down, but she has the look. And I’m as close to a cowboy without ranching as it gets.
Her fingers reach up and touch my hair that Darla temporarily dyed black. “It feels like cheating if I take you to bed, but I don’t think I can keep my hands off you.”
Laughing, I pull her into my arms and kiss her. “I plan to make love to you the same way Rip would to Beth, but we need to make an appearance tonight. Darla and Carter are waitin’ for us.”
“We’re going to have to leave early,” she says, her hand taking mine as we walk to the pickup.
Her body wraps around my arm as we drive, and I know for a fact we’re leaving early. Not just because I can’t get enough of her—as Brynlee or Beth—but because I have a plan to show her something those city boys she’s dated can’t give her.
We walk into the bar, and Darla runs over. “You two look perfect!”
“You make a great Monica,” Brynlee says. “Is Kayce around someone?”
Carter walks around the corner, and even I’m shocked. Sighing, Darla shakes her head. “He insisted on bein’ Jamie instead of Kayce. So much for a couples costume.”
“I don’t get to wear suits very often. Besides, I think I look dashin’,” he says.
