Page 5 of Rhett (The Swift Brothers #3)

CHAPTER FOUR

Tripp

“H ey, Uncle Archer!” Meadow says as we decorate the private area we were given at the rink for the party. We’re early, and it doesn’t start for another forty-five minutes, but Meadow was excited and wanted to make sure we got everything finished before the guests arrived.

It’s normal for Archer to arrive early. He loves my daughter like his own. When April left us, I’m not sure how we’d have gotten by without Archer stepping in. My family is close, and they’re always around to help, but I’m also independent. I don’t want to have to rely on my folks too much, and they already do a lot for us. I’ve got that oldest child stubborn streak sometimes, and that’s one of the situations where it used to push its way through, but for whatever reason, it was different getting help from Archer.

And when Meadow came out as trans, told me we were wrong and that she’s a girl, Archer was the first person I told. His love and support didn’t falter for a second.

“Hey, you.” Archer gives her a hug and kisses her forehead. “You look pretty.”

“Thanks. I made my shirt. Dad’s too. We’re Birthday Chic but paired with comfortable jeans for skating.” She strikes a pose, and I swear, she’s going to conquer the whole damn world one day.

“I’m not as good at the modeling thing,” I joke, and Archer and Easton chuckle. Easton is quiet so far, but that doesn’t surprise me. He’s working through a lot, and this kind of family and friendship is new for him. Just like he’s always been there for us, Archer is right there with him, every step of the way. It’s the kind of man he is.

“Hi, East. How are Pretty Girl and Casanova?” my daughter asks.

“Good. They’re bummed they can’t be here, but they sent a gift.” Easton hands her a small, wrapped package.

“Aww. I’ll give them lots of love as a thank-you next time I see them.” Meadow takes a second package from Archer and places them both on the table for the gifts. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, I see how you are. Leave us with the rest of the work,” I tease, and she gives me a playful smile before slipping away. “I can’t believe I have a teenage daughter.”

“Yeah, that means you’re getting old, Cass,” Archer teases. He was the first person who started calling me Cass, and it’s stuck. Most people use the nickname, though not my family—well, them and Rhett.

“Hey, asshole. If I’m old, then you’re old too.” I toss him a package of streamers. “You gonna help me or what?”

“You know it.”

“I can do the balloons if you want,” Easton offers with a quiet insecurity I never took the time to notice before he started spending time with Archer. It reminds me of Rhett, and when I think about it, Morgan too. There’s a melancholy to the Swift brothers that I think they spent a lifetime trying to hide—Rhett and Morgan succeeding more than Easton. When people used to look at East, they didn’t see his pain. They saw him as a troublemaker, someone who wasn’t worthy of a second glance.

“Absolutely. That’d be great. I’d appreciate it.” We get to work, and a few minutes later I say, “So…your brother’s coming.”

“Great. I can’t wait to watch Morgan fall while ice-skating,” East teases.

“Well, him too, but I meant Rhett.”

Easton pauses what he’s doing and turns to look at me. “Rhett is coming?”

“Yep. I have a feeling he’s not super excited about it—wait, that’s not what I mean.” I think Rhett wants to come more than he probably realizes, but something about him makes me feel like he can’t imagine being wanted here. “Not in a bad way. He’s just…”

“Rhett,” East finishes for me, looking deep in thought. He’s such a contrast to Rhett and Morgan—blond where they both have dark hair, blue eyes when theirs are brown, his arms covered in tattoos when the other two don’t have any.

“Anyway, Meadow invited him. I was pleasantly surprised he said yes. You know how she is, though, working her magic on everyone. You can’t help but love her.”

“I think I know where she gets it,” Archer says, and I roll my eyes.

“I’m not anything special.”

“Special people never see themselves that way. He’s the same.” East nods toward Archer, and my best friend nearly melts. I’ve never seen Archer look at anyone the way he does East. And until recently, when I’ve gotten to know East more, I never would have thought I’d hear him say those kinds of things.

“Fuck. Come’ere.” Archer pulls East into his arms. While East gives this look that tries to convey Archer’s being silly, there’s not a doubt in my mind that he wants to be exactly where he is and that he needs the affection Archer shows him.

“Get a room,” I tease, then look around for a bag filled with a few more supplies. “I have to run out to my truck to get something. Can the two of you hold down the fort until I get back?”

“I think we can manage.” Archer kisses East’s temple, then pulls away.

I put on my coat, beanie, and gloves, and as I head for the door, East says, “Thank you…for inviting Rhett. He needs that.”

East’s gaze catches mine, and I give him a simple nod.

The thing is, I can tell Rhett needs it, and maybe that’s why I threw a snowball at him or appreciated Meadow asking about having dinner with him. But he’s also just interesting to me. I spent my whole life thinking Rhett Swift was one thing—confident, cocky, a jerk sometimes, but also professional, someone who wants to lead and be in charge—and now I have a feeling I was wrong, at least about some of those things.

I make my way outside. The missing bag is on the floorboard of my truck’s cab. I grab it and head back, when I see a familiar vehicle parked alongside the building. It could be a different truck, but somehow, I know it’s not, and though I’m freezing my balls off, I start toward it.

Sure enough, Rhett is sitting in the driver’s seat, early for the party and waiting. He notices me and frowns, watching as I walk to the passenger door, open it, and climb in. “It’s cold as fuck out there.”

“What are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I didn’t want to go in too early. I hardly think there’s anything odd about that.”

No, there’s not, not really, but knowing Rhett, there’s more to the story. “East and Archer are inside. We’re finishing the decorations. You’re welcome to join us.”

My gaze scans the inside of his truck before it lands on the back cab and the pile of professionally wrapped gifts, all in the same pink paper. “Are those all for Meadow?” They can’t be, can they?

“It’s not a big deal,” he says in a snippy voice that tells me he’s offended.

That wasn’t my intention, and again, it was nice of him to do this for her, but that’s not why we wanted him here. And there are at least six gifts back there. “I appreciate it, and that’s very nice of you, but it’s a lot, Rhett. She invited you because she likes you. You didn’t have to do all that.”

“I didn’t know what to get her.” He looks out the driver’s side window.

“So you bought her everything?” I try for a joke, but it doesn’t land.

“I went to the sewing store.”

“The one that’s two hours away?” Holy shit. I’m speechless. I can’t deny that Meadow is a bit spoiled, but this is a lot.

“I asked for help, and the woman kept giving me recommendations, and I kept adding them to the cart.” His gaze flits toward the back. “Now that I think about it, maybe I got swindled.”

I laugh. “I think maybe you did. What’s the biggest one?”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “A mannequin. Maybe she has one…probably does, but I was thinking she could use it for the clothes she makes.” He sighs, and I can see him closing down, pulling away in this distant way I used to think Rhett was. Now I’m not so sure. “It’s nothing,” he says curtly.

“It’s not nothing.” It’s maybe one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen. I reach over, put my hand on his arm. “Thank you for being good to her. For caring about her. That means a lot to me.” More than I can say, really. Rhett is…not who or what I thought he was, and I want to know more.

“She’s a good kid.”

“Yeah, she is. The best. She likes you too, and if Meadow decides someone is good people, then they are.”

He looks at my hand on his arm, and I pull away.

“Sorry.”

Rhett clears his throat. “It’s fine.”

“How about you choose two of those gifts and return the rest?”

“Three,” he counters, and I chuckle.

“Deal. You drive a hard bargain, Rhett Swift. But since I agreed with three, that means you have to come in now with me. Not hiding in the truck.”

“I’m not hiding,” he scoffs, then adds, “Does she have a mannequin?”

“She does, but two wouldn’t hurt. Then she can work on two outfits at once.”

He nods, turns off the truck, and we get out. Rhett grabs three packages, and I get my bag.

“Did you get them professionally wrapped?” I ask, eyeing the perfect ribbons.

He frowns. “No. What makes you think that?”

“Why am I not surprised you’re a perfectionist?” I can’t help wondering if he had to try any of them more than once, just needing to get it right.

“Or maybe I’m just a good wrapper.” When I cock a brow, he says, “The kind that wraps gifts, not songs,” surprising me with the pun, and I take that as a good sign.

“Thank you, Rhett, for caring about her that much.”

“It’s fine. Sorry I’m not used to this.”

I feel like that’s one of the most honest things Rhett has said to me. “Spend more time with us, and you will be,” I tell him, hoping he takes me up on my offer and I get more time with him.