Rhys chewed his food like he was pulverizing gravel. I caught his eye and grinned. He only narrowed his gaze on me, a promise of retribution in his eyes.
I regretted telling him he’d have to quit kissing me. If I could write a hit song half a country away from him, I’d love to know what I could do when I was within arm’s reach.
After the meal was cleaned up, the girls asked me to read them stories. Rhys had run outside to finish up evening chores and close the chicken coop.
He walked into the house and hung his ball cap by the door. I tracked him while Hannah showed off her reading skills with a book about warrior cats. Heshrugged out of his green flannel and tossed it into the laundry room. The black T-shirt left behind hugged his broad chest. If I’d hung around for a few more years, would I have ever been able to leave a fully mature and filled-out Rhys?
I was planning to do just that in a month. But we weren’t a thing like we’d been then.
He reached behind his head and yanked up his shirt. A strip of his abs was bared and—He caught me staring and released his shirt. A flush wicked up my body.
I gave him a look that saiddon’t let me stop you, and he smirked. Adjusting his shoulders so his shirt draped back over those sinful abs, he toed out of his boots.
“Dad, can we watch a movie?” Bethany asked. “June said she hasn’t seen the newest Percy Jackson series.”
“That’s not a movie,” he said and leaned against the wall between the kitchen and living room.
Bethany grinned like she knew exactly what she was asking. They’d already hit me up for a movie-and-popcorn night, but I’d deflected, telling them it was up to their dad. I’d absolutely stay, but it also wasn’t my place to decide.
Would he be okay with the plan? I hadn’t had a movie-and-popcorn night in so long. My sisters and I used to do them when we were all home, but they had their families now.
“Two episodes.” He looked at me and the heat from earlier rushed back. “You staying?”
Relief and excitement filled my heart. “I’ve heard I can’t miss it.” Just like I couldn’t miss the chance he’d change out of his shirt where I could see.
He pushed off the wall. “Go ahead and start theshow. I’ll throw some popcorn in and take a quick shower.”
By the time he was done, I was flanked on both sides on the couch by the girls as they rattled off Percy Jackson details.
Rhys handed out buckets of popcorn and took a seat on the recliner. He’d slicked back his damp hair, making his cheekbones sharper and his blue eyes more piercing. I had to refrain from glancing at him every five minutes to get an eyeful. The gray sweats and plain white tee he wore didn’t help.
Whenever the girls giggled or exchanged excited notes about the storyline, I caught Rhys’s eye and smiled. I used to be like them with my sisters when we’d get into the same shows or books. That no longer happened as much, like the movie-and-popcorn nights. My siblings had more going on in their lives than ever, but I wasn’t home enough. Wynter had left Montana after school, but she’d eventually returned. Same with Summer. Autumn had never left, and Scarlett had moved to Bourbon Canyon for her job and then married Tate.
Homesickness filled me. But I was home now. Right?
Was the cabin my home?
My house in Nashville?
The condo in Tampa?
I was hardly in New York anymore, and I made more appearances online than in person. I could just as well let my LA lease expire.
By the time the second episode was done, Rhys was dozing in the recliner. I shut the TV off. “Can y’all tiptoe to bed without waking your dad?” I whispered.
Bethany’s eyes were pleading. “He always falls asleep, and we get to watch shows until midnight.”
“Is it usually a Sunday night right before your last week of school?” I whispered.
She pouted. Hannah scooted to the edge of the couch. When she stood, she turned and draped her little arms around my neck. “Good night, June. Thanks for watching Percy Jackson with us.” Her hug got tight for a second, then she trudged off. Another five minutes on the couch and she would’ve been snoozing like her dad.
Bethany did the same. “Thanks for hanging out with us tonight.”
Their little voices in my ear and those sweet hugs caused an ache in my chest, a longing I hadn’t thought I’d have. My life wasn’t suited to having kids. Lots of singers had kids, they even toured while pregnant, but I’d want a more stable schedule, quicker modes of transportation, and larger spaces to relax.
I walked them to the base of the stairs and waited until they turned at the top to look back and wave. Going all the way to their bedroom felt intrusive. I was a guest. Guitar tutors didn’t tuck their clients in. It wasn’t appropriate.
I went to the living room. The TV was dark and the one lamp on in the corner cast shadows over Rhys’s face. The line across his forehead was gone, his usual hard expression softened by sleep.
