Then the cafe’s bell rang.
And a familiar pair of carpenter’s boots stepped inside.
Chapter Eleven
“Hi, Georgie.”
I slowly looked up from the floor, still clutching the leg of my chair. “Hey, Rhett.”
Where was the sand when I needed to bury my head in it?
Cameron announced an espresso at the bar. Before I could open my mouth, Margot wiggled her eyebrows at me and stood, marching away to retrieve her drink. I didn’t want to know what I looked like, hunched beside the furniture, frozen and red-faced.
The wet soles of his boots squeaked as he took a few steps toward me. His head cocked to the side and the corner of his lips curled up. “Do you need some help?”
“No,” I said automatically, broken out of my stupor. My knees wobbled unpleasantly as I rose. I really needed to start working out. “So, uh… what brings you here?”
Really, Georgie?
Rhett glanced around us. “Coffee. Is there another reason I should have come?”
“No, I—” My cheeks flushed as his words registered, even though I knew he meant nothing by it. I cleared my throat andtried again. “Margot spent the morning helping me with the festival, so we needed a pick-me-up. I’d be helpless without her.”
She rolled her eyes as she returned and handed me my latte. “Don’t be ridiculous. You already had everything done.” Margot squinted at Rhett for a second, as if to appraise him, before tapping her tiny espresso cup and leaving me for our table.
“And that was Margot,” I said with an unconvincing laugh.
“You already introduced me,” Rhett replied matter-of-factly and crossed his arms. “You know, thanks to your help yesterday, I should have the booths done well before the festival.”
My stomach twisted even though it was a compliment. “Even with the interruption of Yellow-Paint-Gate?” I returned.
His expression changed. Warmer, but still entirely inscrutable. “I don’t know how you finished all those signs. It would have taken me an entire week,” he said.
I ducked under his gaze and tried to focus on the heat of my drink against my palms. “I bet you’re happy to get back to the West coast even faster, huh?” My pulse did that annoying thing again, like I’d had too much caffeine and not enough food.
“Oh, no. My return flight stays the same,” he replied. “Someone’s gotta transport all the booths and make sure they’re set up properly.”
Something warm bloomed in my chest. “You know, I could do that,” I quipped and met his eyes.
“With what truck?” he returned, brow raised.
I smiled. “Well, you have to pay me for my sign-making servicessomehow.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Rhett drawled with a teasing grin. “But it turns out the truck’s unavailable. Maybe there’s another way?”
The air around us seemed to thicken as I looked back at him and fought the urge to fan my face. Rhett Briggs had a knack for leaving me uncharacteristically speechless and even more frazzled than normal.
“Hey, man. Are you going to order?” Cameron interrupted from the register.
Suddenly I remembered that I was half-soaked from the rain and standing in the middle of the very public cafe. I straightened my shoulders and tucked any loose curls behind my ears.
“Can I text you?” Rhett asked, entirely ignoring Cameron’s question.
“Yes,” I replied, flattening my lips before the “please” tumbled out. “He’ll have a black coffee, Cameron,” I added without breaking eye contact, enraptured by the disappearing tilt of his lips as he turned to the register.
It felt like all the bones had been sucked from my body as I slumped into the chair opposite Margot.
“I knew it,” she said in a sing-song voice.
