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“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m taking my dogs home.”
“You sure that’s a good idea, what with your arm and all?” I say, nodding toward the sling.
“Why is it that everyone seems to think they know what’s best for me? My dogs should be at home with me, not locked up in a kennel.”
I scowl. “It’s not that we know what’s best for you; it’s that we want what’s best for you. Big difference, buddy. And for the record, I would never lock your dogs up in a kennel. They’ve been staying with me. You’re welcome for that, by the way. Asshole,” I add under my breath.
“Were you doing what was best for me when you screwed Charlie Dixon?”
Once again, all the breath leaves my body. “Rhett,” I manage after a moment. “I—”
Lowering his head, he rubs a hand over his face. “Shit. I didn’t mean to say that.” He looks up at me. “I appreciate you taking care of the dogs, and you’re right, I probably shouldn’t take them back to Coop’s with me. I can barely wipe my own ass, let alone take care of these crazies.”
I can’t help it. Despite every protest, I grin. “I can’t help you with the ass wiping, but I’m more than willing to keep the dogs.”
“You sure I can’t talk you in to the ass wiping?” he asks, turning to hang the leashes back on the fence.
“Not a chance in hell.” I laugh, and it feels good. I can’t remember the last time I laughed. “I like you, but not that much.”
“You like me, huh?”
And there’s that smile again. If I didn’t know better, I’d think all the shit that happened between us doesn’t matter. Except it does, because this cowboy broke my heart, and I’m damn sure I did the same to him—the mention of Charlie Dixon proves that.
“You know what I mean.” Swallowing hard, I meet Rhett’s eyes. “I’ve always liked you; that was never the problem.”
I open the door to my truck, but Duke and Diesel hesitate to jump in. When Rhett motions for them to do so, they listen, and I shut the door.
“I should get going. I’ve got a ton of errands to run today.”
He nods, slowly backing away.
I think about Rhett sitting next to me in the truck, about being surrounded by his husky scent, and I go out on a limb. “You can come with me, if you’d like.”
He shakes his head without even thinking about it. “I’m good.”
“Okay.” I nod. “You can swing by tomorrow about this same time if you want to spend time with the dogs.”
“I have physical therapy tomorrow.”
“Right.”
“Friday?”
“Friday’s good.”
“Okay. I’ll see you Friday,” he says, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket.
The look in his eyes tells me there’s more he wants to say. I know we need to talk, about so many things, but today isn’t the day.
“Bye, Rhett.”
Before he can reply, I hop in my truck and pull away.
Monroe
After a long-ass day, I pull down Harris Street, put my truck in park, and stare at my childhood home.
