“Banden brothers,” we say together and nod. “Figures.”
We make a path for the mattress before grabbing it and carrying it down the hall and into the master bedroom. It’s heavy, but I’d have moved it on my own if Carter wasn’t here to help, just to be of service to this woman. And to see inside this house. Even as we carry the heavy object, I can’t help but wonder if the floors are original. But I also don’t know if it’s appropriate to ask her or not. City folk get touchy about things.
“This was in the house,” she says and leads us to a fourposter bed. “I’ve always dreamed of having one of these, and it’s perfect for my mattress. I figure I can donate the frame I brought with because this one’s so pretty.”
Brynlee walks out of the room, and I look at Carter as we set the mattress down, lifting my eyebrows. “Was I right?”
“Holy shit,” he says. “Wow.”
“Right?”
She returns with sheets, and Carter takes point and helps her make the bed. Between the two of us, he’s the least dirty, and I hate the idea of him touching the fabric she’ll sleep on.
A possessive nature I’m not familiar with kicks in, and I don’t know how I feel about it. I’m not usually this way, but I can’t tear my mind away from the beauty leaning over to tuck the fitted sheet under the corner of the mattress.
“Thank you,” she says and smiles warmly at Carter. “Do either of you know who I could call to install a filtration system? I’d really like to avoid giving myself tennis elbow by scrubbing clean all those hard water stains.”
Moving towards me, Carter slaps me on the shoulder. “The only person I know who’s installed one is right here.”
I know what he’s doing, and as much as I would love it, I know there’s no hope Brynlee would ever have any interest in me. I’m far too average for someone like her, and any attractionshe could have will surely disappear the moment she meets any other man in town. I’m the nice guy. An average Joe.
“How much would you charge?”
I smile and shake my head. “Install would be free. I can get a list of everything you need to order. Most aren’t stocked in town, so you’ll have to have them shipped. Next to no one other than repairmen understand how terrible the minerals in the hard water are on appliances. Everyone just keeps replacing them every few years and complains about the low quality,” I ramble.
God, I wish I could stop doing that around her.
“Are you sure? That’s really nice of you, Rhett.”
“Story of my life,” I say with a sigh.
Nice guys always finish last. I’m pretty sure they’ll etch that onto my headstone when I die. Alone.
“Rhett’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. That’s why he’s my best bud,” Carter says. “Knows how to treat a lady, too.”
Elbowing him, even though I appreciate his attempts to talk me up, I force a smile. There’s a snowball’s chance in hell this woman would ever be interested in me. Not unless she was blind or never left her house to meet another man ever again.
Instead of the sympathetic smile I get from most women, Brynlee looks almost bashful. “I find that nice guys tend to be severely underrated. Or maybe that’s just the city girl in me. I’m not sure I’ve ever truly met a nice guy until you two. Or women, actually. Everyone I know is mean deep down to their core.”
“Movin’ from Atlanta?” Carter asks.
“Chicago.”
We share a look with each other, both wondering why in the world someone would move from Chicago to the middle of nowhere. Especially with all the places between there and Copperwood.
“I know,” she says and sighs. “To be honest, I felt like I needed to start over. Fully over. My grandparents left me this beautifulhouse, and I figured, why not? I know I stick out like a sore thumb, but hopefully that’ll change as I get more accustomed to things around here. I’ve never really been to a country town before, let alone lived in one. All I know are tall buildings and suburbs. I’ve never even been to a state fair.”
Her nice demeanor takes me by surprise. Someone who looks like she does should be mean. Bitchy. “I’ll look through my stuff and get you the specific parts you’ll need to order for the system. Does that work?”
Her smile slips a bit, and she begins looking around the room. I glance at Carter, who looks equally confused, as she hurries to a box. Pulling out her purse, she rummages through it for her phone. “Uh, yes, that’s fine. Sorry, it’s been a really long drive today. Can I get your number?”
I say it, watching her red nails tap it onto her screen, and my phone rings in my pocket. Grabbing it, I see the 872-area code. “Yours?”
“Yep! And how much do I owe you for getting my car out of the ditch?”
“Oh, fifty, but I can get that from you later,” Carter says and waves a hand in the air.
She reaches into her purse to pull out her wallet. “Is cash okay?”
