Page 35
Story: Hello Heartbreaker
I took in the house, my heart tugging at the sight. A million different lifetimes ran before my eyes, one where this would have been the house we shared, both of us working toward our dreams.
“It’s cute,” I said.
“Cute,” he echoed, getting out of the truck.
When he came to get my door, I said, “What? What’s wrong with cute?”
“Nothing—when you’re describing a baby bird or one of those regular-sized things made into a really tiny version. But a grown man’s house?”
I laughed, following him down the weathered sidewalk. “My apologies. This house sure isswole.”
“’Swole’?” He laughed. “What does that mean?”
I raised my eyebrows. “It means buff. Ripped. Tough.”
“That’s the best you could do?”
“It’s the first masculine thing that came to mind!” I laughed, not adding that his muscular shoulders may have influenced me.
He chuckled, going to the front door and pulling it open. I was still getting used to being back in Cottonwood Falls, where no one ever locked anything. The thought made me smile, like his door was always open. Even to me.
We got inside, and I looked around, poorly veiling my curiosity. The front area was similarly laid out to mine, with a living room and a kitchen that had a little ledge between the cooktop and the dining area. His furniture didn’t look new, but it was clean and free of rips or tears. A hand-crocheted afghan he used to keep in his bedroom now rested over the sofa.
There weren’t many decorations on the walls, but a copy of Van Gogh’sSunflowershung in the dining area.
“It’s not much,” he said softly. “I’ve been saving most of my money for the land.”
Then it struck me, confident-bordering-on-cocky Rhett Griffen was... nervous for me to see his place.
I turned back toward him and smiled. “It’s great.”
His smile made me feel like I’d found gold. “I’m glad you think so.”
In fact, I was having a hard time remembering why I had to stay away. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Maybe if it looked like Cooper’s, I could douse this flame my heart was building for him.
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll start on the cookies.”
“You’re baking them?”
He smiled. “Better than store bought.”
“True.” I walked toward the door on the other side of the living room to use the bathroom, but he rushed to block the door. “This is the garage. Bathroom’s over there.”
I raised my eyebrows at him pressed against the door. “You don’t want me in there?”
“You said you weren’t ready the other day after seeing the ring.”
His words sobered me, but my curiosity was getting to me. “And what if I’m ready now?”
“Then let’s wait until we have dessert so I can give you a proper tour.”
“Of your garage?” I asked, skeptical.
He nodded.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He smirked. “And here I thought you’d forgotten me.”
“It’s cute,” I said.
“Cute,” he echoed, getting out of the truck.
When he came to get my door, I said, “What? What’s wrong with cute?”
“Nothing—when you’re describing a baby bird or one of those regular-sized things made into a really tiny version. But a grown man’s house?”
I laughed, following him down the weathered sidewalk. “My apologies. This house sure isswole.”
“’Swole’?” He laughed. “What does that mean?”
I raised my eyebrows. “It means buff. Ripped. Tough.”
“That’s the best you could do?”
“It’s the first masculine thing that came to mind!” I laughed, not adding that his muscular shoulders may have influenced me.
He chuckled, going to the front door and pulling it open. I was still getting used to being back in Cottonwood Falls, where no one ever locked anything. The thought made me smile, like his door was always open. Even to me.
We got inside, and I looked around, poorly veiling my curiosity. The front area was similarly laid out to mine, with a living room and a kitchen that had a little ledge between the cooktop and the dining area. His furniture didn’t look new, but it was clean and free of rips or tears. A hand-crocheted afghan he used to keep in his bedroom now rested over the sofa.
There weren’t many decorations on the walls, but a copy of Van Gogh’sSunflowershung in the dining area.
“It’s not much,” he said softly. “I’ve been saving most of my money for the land.”
Then it struck me, confident-bordering-on-cocky Rhett Griffen was... nervous for me to see his place.
I turned back toward him and smiled. “It’s great.”
His smile made me feel like I’d found gold. “I’m glad you think so.”
In fact, I was having a hard time remembering why I had to stay away. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Maybe if it looked like Cooper’s, I could douse this flame my heart was building for him.
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll start on the cookies.”
“You’re baking them?”
He smiled. “Better than store bought.”
“True.” I walked toward the door on the other side of the living room to use the bathroom, but he rushed to block the door. “This is the garage. Bathroom’s over there.”
I raised my eyebrows at him pressed against the door. “You don’t want me in there?”
“You said you weren’t ready the other day after seeing the ring.”
His words sobered me, but my curiosity was getting to me. “And what if I’m ready now?”
“Then let’s wait until we have dessert so I can give you a proper tour.”
“Of your garage?” I asked, skeptical.
He nodded.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He smirked. “And here I thought you’d forgotten me.”
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