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“Love you too, baby,” he says, and that soft smile is back again. But when his eyes meet mine, the slightest hint of a scowl starts to replace it. “Did you ask Leah if she wanted to go swimmin’ with ya?”
“She can’t.” Joey shakes her head. “She’s workin’.”
Rhett tilts his head to the side and places both hands on his hips as he looks down at his daughter. “Workin’? She doesn’t look like she’s workin’ to me. She looks like she’s just sittin’ on my couch.”
“Because she was waitin’ for you, silly,” Joey answers and rolls her eyes. “And she’s here because she’s gotta help get your knee all better. Duh.”
With that, she stomps her little boots over to me and proceeds to not-so-quietly whisper into my ear.
“Don’t worry. Last night, I got him to do almost everything on our list.”
I lean back and smile at her, whispering, “That’s fantastic.”
Her responding smile lights up her face. “The only thing my daddy doesn’t like to do is take a bath, but that’s probably ’cause he thinks baths are for little kids and women. Not big, strong men like him. So, he took a shower instead. That’s okay, right?”
I have to laugh at that, and I lean forward to whisper into her ear, “That’s more than okay. I’m very proud of you for helping your daddy get his knee better.”
Joey surprises me by wrapping her arms around my neck and hugging me tight.
And then she’s off on her cowgirl boots again, running over to Jenny, who is now standing at the front door.
“Let’s go swimmin’, Granny!”
“See y’all later,” Jenny says with a smile as she opens the screen door, and it’s not long before both she and Joey are walking down the front porch steps and toward the Volvo station wagon that sits in the gravel driveway.
Once they start to pull away, Rhett turns his attention back to me.
“You know, last night, I found the strangest note crumpled up inside my daughter’s boot,” he states, and his eyes narrow with insider knowledge. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would ya?”
I tap my finger on my chin dramatically and shrug. “I don’t think I do…”
“Liar,” he retorts and shakes his head. “I can’t believe you’d stoop so low as to use my own daughter to do your dirty work. Gettin’ an innocent five-year-old to do your job? You should be ashamed of yourself, darlin’.”
I snort. “Oh, let me be the first to assure you that there is absolutely no shame in my game, cowboy,” I retort. “Your constant unwillingness to follow my medical advice and let me take care of your knee has forced my creative hand.”
“Real creative using a man’s daughter against him.”
I shrug. “I never said I’d play fair.”
He huffs out an incredulous laugh and heads into the kitchen.
And I waste no time getting off the couch and following him.
He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and sighs when he turns around and finds me in the same room. “What are ya tryin’ to achieve here, Leah?”
“My job.”
He rolls his eyes and guzzles down half the bottle of water in three large gulps.
And I hate how my eyes fixate on the corded muscles of his neck, watching them flex as water slides down his throat.
Why on earth did God think it was a good idea to give this stubborn bastard the golden ticket in attractive looks? I’m sure there’s a reason, some kind of lesson in avoiding temptation, but man oh man, the sight of this shirtless, rugged, muscular male specimen is quite the distraction.
Once he finishes off the rest of the bottle, he tosses it into the recycling and strides out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
Social manners and formalities should probably make it impossible for me to follow, but desperate medical treatment times call for desperate measures.
By the time he takes a right into his bedroom, I’m hot on his tail.
“Christ,” he mutters and runs a hand through his hair. “What are ya doin’ in my bedroom? And what the fuck is all this shit?” he asks, glancing around to see where I’ve already set up everything I need for the deep tissue massage.
“Take off your brace and pants, Rhett.”
His blue eyes go wide with surprise. “Excuse me, darlin’? You think maybe you should offer to buy me dinner first?”
“Not like that.” I roll my eyes. “I need you to take off your jeans so that I can massage your leg.”
“A fuckin’ massage?” he retorts. “My leg doesn’t need a trip to the spa.”
“Why does everything have to be so difficult with you?” I ask on a sigh. “Like, are you this obstinate all the time or are you doing this special just for me?”
He just stares at me.
“Look, Rhett, from the way I see it, you have two options here.”
