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Is he talking to her again?
Is he planning on seeing her next Wednesday?
Why would he see her next Wednesday?
Was he going to tell me about it?
Does he miss her too?
Adrenaline pumps through my veins, along with a rush of anger and confusion.
Sometime between finding out the truth of what Nikki did to us and having our lovely shower talk about home, he talked to Nikki and made plans to meet up.
I stand on wobbly legs, tug my shirt over my head, and brush through my tangles. Twisting my hair into a pile on my head, I secure it with a ponytail holder and wait for the water to shut off.
“Who called?” Rhett asks, yanking the shower curtain open. He reaches for a towel, runs it over his head and looks at me expectantly. “Mo?”
“Yeah?”
“Who called?”
“Nikki.”
His gaze jumps from the phone to me. “Mo.”
“I have to go
.”
I walk out of the bathroom as he stumbles from the shower, reaching for his boxers. “Mo, wait. It’s not what you think.”
Flinging my purse over my shoulder, I pull open the front door, slamming it shut as I walk out. I’m halfway to my car when it flies open again.
“Mo, wait.”
“We’ll talk about this later. I’m going to be late for work.”
I slam the truck door shut and stick the key in the ignition, but I don’t have the strength to crank it over. Dropping my head to the steering wheel, I blow out a long breath. Today has been a crazy day. My emotions are running high, and I’m afraid if I go back into the house, I’ll say things I’ll regret. But worse yet, I’m afraid if I leave without working things out, I’ll ruin the delicate foundation we’ve begun to build.
I trust Rhett, which is why I reach for the handle at the same time a soft knock taps the window. I kick the door open and get out of the truck.
Rhett has one hand propped against the door, the other against the body, caging me in.
“I was just getting out to come talk to you.”
“Good. I was hoping you weren’t going to leave without letting me explain what her text was about. We don’t walk away mad, okay?”
I nod, but it isn’t good enough.
“We talk through our shit, no matter what it is.”
“I know,” I stress. “Why do you think I was opening the door?”
A smile threatens his scowl. “Nikki called the other day and left me a voicemail.”
“You didn’t answer?”
“Hell no. I have no place for her in my life. She wanted to tell me that Jessica, the woman from Rugged, is planning on coming to the ranch next Wednesday for the shoot. I texted her back and said thank you, that Wednesday would work, and that’s it.”
