Flawless (Chestnut Springs Book 1)
Flawless: Chapter 25

Rhett: Come to my room.

Summer: No. I’m not tiptoeing around your dad’s house and having sex with you on the same floor as him. That’s tacky.

Rhett: There is no one I’d rather be tacky with.

Summer: My answer is still no.

Rhett: I’ll come to your room. We won’t be on the same floor that way. Everyone wins.

Summer: You’re an animal.

Rhett: We can call it a team meeting.

Summer: You’re going to call having sex a team meeting?

Rhett: Team building?

Summer: What are we building? LOL.

Rhett: Rapport.

Summer: Nice try.

Rhett: Will you at least send me a nude so I can jerk off all sad and alone?

Summer: You’re pathetic. Wanna go for a midnight drive in the rust bucket? Look for the constellation that spells MINE? 😉

Rhett: Yeah. If I get you down on all fours, I’ll replace that one for sure.

“So, how’s traveling together been going?” my dad asks over a mouthful of food from beside me. Table manners are a lost art in this house. It was enough for my dad to get a full meal down in front of three young boys. Well, four young boys, considering Jasper might as well be one of us for how much he hung around.

He’s here tonight too. Made the trip out of the city for Sunday dinner before Beau deploys again.

“Anyone going to answer me?” Harvey prods.

I glance at Summer, who’s at the opposite end of the table from me, wide-eyed, fork frozen in mid-air.

I almost laugh. She’s a terrible liar.

“Great.” I shrug and stare down at my spaghetti and meatballs. Cade may be a grumpy asshole. But he’s a grumpy asshole who can cook.

“Yeah?” Beau asks, a curious smirk on his face. “The wild child treating you well, Summer?”

She promptly fills her mouth with a forkful of noodles, nodding with an awkward high-pitched laugh, before she points at her mouth apologetically, like that’s the reason she’s not answering.

Her eyes dart to mine. And I laugh. I can’t help it.

“He’s running you into the ground, isn’t he?” Beau asks. Bless him. He’s so sweet, he doesn’t realize the button he’s pressing. Cade does though. I can tell by the way he’s glaring at me across the table.

It’s hard to tell what type of scowl this is, but I think it might be one that says You’re not seriously fucking your agent’s daughter, are you?

I’m not so sure my dad is fooled either.

Me? I don’t care. If I cared what they thought, I’d have stopped riding bulls years ago. I’d be happy to sit next to Summer and sling my arm across the back of her chair. But I know she’s not there yet. Unlike me, Summer really, really cares what people think.

Summer lifts her napkin, primly dabbing at her lips as she takes a deep breath. I watch them flatten and fill back out under the pressure of her fingers and have to shift myself on the chair to accommodate the way my cock is expanding in my pants.

She smiles serenely at my brother. “No, everything has been absolutely fine. Very uneventful. When do you deploy? I’m assuming we’ll see you all at the final rodeo weekend?” She looks around the table innocently. But I know her comment is anything but innocent. “It’s just in the city. I’m sure you’re all capable of driving to support Rhett.”

That draws a lot of dropped eye contact and increased rates of chewing. I’m not surprised. My family doesn’t support me in this venture. It’s not a new conversation for me at this point.

“Sorry, Sum.” My eyes narrow at Beau, shortening her name like he knows her well enough to do that. “I’m heading out early this week. Dad and I are making it a road trip across the country.”

But Summer is a fixer. Summer supports the people she loves. I’m sure she can’t quite wrap her head around this. So, she just continues to stare at everyone expectantly.

“I’ll come!” Luke squeals. “I wanna be a bull rider, just like Uncle Rhett!”

Summer smiles. “Great, I can take y—”

“No.” Cade’s voice is downright arctic. This is not a conversation he likes to have. Not at all.

It’s Jasper from beneath the brim of his team cap that takes over the conversation. “I’ll join you, Summer. I live close to the arena, and we’re off that night.”

She perks up with a terse nod, rolling her shoulders back and glaring at my dad and brothers.

“Wouldn’t matter if you had a game. You could take the night off. That’s how far y’all are from clinching a playoff spot.” Beau guffaws at his own joke.

Jasper rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and mutters, “Fuckin’ dick.” His voice holds no venom though. Jasper and my middle brother are best friends, the kind most of us never get to have. Practically brothers. God knows Jasper needed someone.

Or a few someones. And those someones turned out to be the Eaton boys.

“Well,” Beau exclaims, clapping his hands together, “who’s up for a field trip to The Spur? I want to dance with Summer before I leave.”

My teeth grind as I glare at my brother.

“You’re gonna ruin your teeth doing that, son.” Harvey slings a hand across the back of my chair and grins at me. It’s a creepy grin. A knowing grin.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Any time. You know I’m a well-spring of good advice.” He leans in closer while everyone else launches into talking about plans for later tonight. His voice goes lower. “That’s why I’m going to give you this little tidbit of advice: cool your jets. If you ever have something that no one else wants, you gotta ask yourself where the value is.”

I look over at my dad, face smushed together in confusion. “What?”

He smiles wistfully, observing everyone around the table. “It never mattered whose eyes were on your mom. Because her eyes were always on me.” He pats my shoulder and then leans back into his chair, leaving me staring down at the old oak table beneath my elbows. The lines in the wood a testament to all the meals I’ve had in this exact spot over the course of my life.

While lively conversation rolls on around me, I think about my mom. I think about Summer.

And when I glance over at her, her eyes are on me.

I decide to take my dad’s advice. To stop beating my chest like a fucking gorilla every time someone so much as looks Summer’s way. I decide to sit back at The Spur and soak her up. Beau and Cade grabbed the couches on the raised part of the bar. It’s the same spot they always take, and magically it’s never in use.

I think we’re just well-liked enough in town to warrant a special spot. Beau got here before Summer and I did, but I wouldn’t be surprised if someone else moved from the table when they saw him walk in.

That, or Cade scowled at them and sent them scampering off.

Either way, from where I’m seated, I have a perfect view of the space they clear for a dance floor on Honky Tonk Sundays. I’m pretty sure it’s just a way to get people out on Sunday nights—and it works.

Old school country music, line dancing, two-stepping. Chestnut Springs is a small enough town, but it’s not all cowboys and ranchers. Which is why it always cracks me up to see people playing cowboy dress-up on Sunday nights.

Eric, the financial advisor from the bank, has a huge silver buckle on his belt and is wearing a fucking bolo tie. This guy hasn’t set foot outside a shiny clean bank in years, and I know he grew up attending a private school in the city.

Laura is here, so obviously trying to catch my eye that I almost feel bad for her. The second-hand embarrassment is thick. Unlike Cade, who mean-mugs every woman who approaches him and turns his back on them like that might make them disappear, I have a hard time turning women away.

Not in a physical sense, because I’ve spent many a night snuggled up to a woman at a bar just because I feel bad shutting them down. Even though nothing more than that happened, of course, all it takes is one photo of me with them for it to hit the internet and speculation to blow up.

That said, I’ve never felt like I needed to shut them down. I didn’t owe anyone anything, and I wasn’t hurting anyone.

But watching Summer two-stepping awkwardly with Beau right now, laughing and stumbling on each other’s feet, my chest twists.

I’m not sure how I fell so hard, and so fast. I’m not sure of anything, really. My career. My health. But I’m pretty fucking sure Summer is a game-changer in more ways than one.

I’m also pretty sure I’m done being mature and watching my brother dance and enjoy my girl. I slam my beer bottle on the table and unfold myself from the couch. Cade gives me a speculative scowl, and I ignore him as I turn and stride to the dance floor.

I catch Summer’s eye from over Beau’s shoulder, and she smiles at me. My stomach drops. The tips of my fingers itch to touch her—and fuck—those lips.

We’ve been back for half a day and not kissing her is driving me crazy.

After an entire season of wanting nothing more than to be at home, I suddenly want to be on the road, only because I get to be alone with Summer when I am.

My hand clamps down on Beau’s shoulder. “I’m going to cut in now.”

He looks over his shoulder with a grin. A knowing grin. Fucking shit disturber.

Beau acts like a goof, but the fact of the matter is, you don’t get the level of clearance he has by being a doofus. Nah, he’s a hell of a lot smarter than he lets on. And sometimes I wonder if he’s a hell of a lot more fucked up than he lets on, too.

“Sure thing, baby bro.” He claps me on the back and holds Summer’s hand out to mine before turning away with a wink. Hopefully, to go keep a miserable looking Cade company and scare Laura away from talking to him too.

I step in front of Summer, sliding one hand around her waist and linking my fingers with hers before gazing down at her bright eyes and flushed cheeks. She looks happy. “Having fun?”

“Yes,” she breathes. “I haven’t been out dancing in forever.” I lead her into an easy two-step, having had a lot more practice at country bars than Beau. I know how to lead without looking like a total buffoon. “It makes me miss Willa.”

“Who is Willa?” I lean down closer, wishing I could Thanos this place—snap my fingers and make everyone else disappear.

“My best friend. You’d like her.” Summer snorts. “She’s sort of the female version of you.”

“Maybe that’s why you handle me so well.”

“Handle you? Rhett Eaton, I don’t think anyone can truly handle you. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Fuck yeah, you are.”

She huffs out a laugh, and I feel her breath against my neck. The dress she’s wearing is tight and scrunched up over her torso, and then soft and flowing around her legs. It’s begging for me to flip it up and bend her over.

“I met Willa taking riding lessons. When I got sick again and had to quit, she kept coming to visit me in the hospital. Just never stopped. Sharing pictures, videos. I’m pretty sure we even watched you ride together.”

Her head tips down shyly when she admits that.

“Does she know about us?” Us. That was a stupid thing to say. There’s not an “us” yet. Yet. But I don’t need to terrify Summer while I work on that yet.

But she doesn’t seem scared. She just presses her lips together and looks up into my eyes. The song changes to something slower, and she automatically steps into me, lining our hips up and sliding her hand over my shoulder to wrap both arms around my neck.

“No. Well, not really. I believe a few weeks ago her suggestion was that I should—how did she put it—ride you like a bucking bronco.”

My dick twitches.

I lean down to whisper something in her ear but can’t resist pressing a kiss there first. “I approve of this friendship.”

She giggles and runs her fingers up the base of my scalp, through my hair like she always seems to enjoy. “Careful. People here are going to think the infamous bachelor Rhett Eaton is taken.”

I chuckle and spare a glance out to the bar.

“People are definitely looking,” she murmurs.

I pull one hand up and shuck her chin back toward me. “Good. Let them look.”

She just blinks at me. And I hate that anyone has ever made her feel like she isn’t worth being seen with. Like she’s some dirty secret to hide.

“They’re going to talk.”

“Then let them talk. You know I don’t give a fuck what people think, Summer. And there is no one I’d rather ruin my reputation with.”

With one hand still gripping her chin, I kiss her.

Fuck these people. Fuck Rob. Fuck her shitty sister. Fuck anyone who would make this woman feel like anything less than she is.

She stiffens at first—shocked—but when her fingers go back to moving in my hair and her lips slide against mine, I know I have her permission to keep going. To keep ruining my reputation, right here and now, with her.

If I were paying attention to anything other than the woman in my arms, I’d hear the hearts of girls breaking and the sound of my brothers whooping and laughing.

But all I hear is the pounding of my heart and the sweet sighing noise Summer makes when my tongue dances with hers.

We stand here. In plain view. Kissing. In the middle of a makeshift dance floor. No doubt raising some eyebrows. Making a statement.

Doing what we want rather than what we should.