I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t be kissing this man. This client. I definitely should not be kissing him back. But sometimes being responsible is exhausting, especially in the face of someone as irresistible as Rhett Eaton.
It’s me who pushes my tongue into his mouth. It’s me who steps even closer, feeling his hand slide down to my ass as he crushes me against the steely bulge in his pants. It’s me who moans when he presses it against me even harder.
The knowledge that I do that to him makes me wild. It seems unlikely. We seem unlikely.
And yet I’d have to be an idiot to deny there’s a connection here. The bickering. The jokes. The goddamn teenaged crush.
His thumb trails down the column of my throat as his silky tongue tangles with mine. He wields it so well. He makes me weak in the knees. Suddenly, I want him closer—I want more.
And as I squeeze my thighs together and feel my core clench, I realize my body wants that too. Which is a problem. Because I still need to spend several weeks with this man. Alone with this man. Which means this needs to stop.
I pull back, panting. My hands are clenched, fisting the front of his shirt, and our hips still line up in a way that is entirely inappropriate for the main entrance of the hospital.
Rhett is breathless too, back to staring at me.
His eyes flit past me, and I follow them, not wanting him to look away yet. We glance over just in time to see Rob’s coiffed head of golden hair slip into his fast car. The sound of his door slamming makes me jump. And then I’m staring back up at Rhett, whose jaw is clenched hard enough that it looks like the bone is trying to escape through his skin.
“Well . . . I think that worked.” My voice sounds breathy and soft as I step away from Rhett’s rock-hard body, the breeze whooshing in between us as though it’s carrying away all the feelings that came fluttering up when we kissed.
I wish it could carry away my confusion.
We walk again, and I’m just trying to stay upright after the most mind-blowing kiss of my life. Fake kiss.
I wonder if we’re going to talk about it, but Rhett just adjusts himself in his jeans and tries to steer the conversation back into safer territory. Mocking me.
“Did you plan our wedding while you were cooped up in the hospital? What about our wedding night? I’d love to hear about that.”
I glance down at his crotch with a smirk. Secretly getting off on seeing the bulge there. “Bet you would.”
His pinky finger wraps around mine tenderly before he moves his hand to the small of my back, guiding me safely across the road and making my chest flutter.
He’s joking. But I did imagine a wedding night with him. A long time ago.
I haven’t in years.
But I might be tonight.
“Tell me about him,” Rhett says from the passenger seat while I focus too hard on an empty road.
“What?” I eye him suspiciously now, pretending I don’t know what he’s talking about.
“Doctor Douche.”
I strangle a laugh in my throat as my tongue darts out over my lips and my knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. “He’s not a douche.”
“Get real. I saw his personalized license plate. His secret is officially out.”
I smile now. “Okay, that is bad.”
“Bad? It’s worse than bad. I bet he loves milk-based drinks, too.”
I huff out a laugh and shake my head.
“When did you break up?”
“I don’t know if you could call it a breakup. We weren’t together in the way you might be thinking.” My top teeth graze my bottom lip as I turn things over in my mind. I’ve only ever told Willa about this, and it’s scary to open up about it with Rhett.
“We . . . fuck. I don’t know. I’ve told no one except my best friend about this.”
“You mean Kip never met him?” The curiosity on his face is blatant.
“Well. No. He’s met him.”
“Summer, this isn’t a Christopher Nolan film. I don’t deserve to be this confused after giving you the best kiss of your—”
“He was my doctor,” I blurt out.
Rhett goes still, all the jokes sliding away. Probably crushed by the wheels beneath us. “Like your family doctor?”
“No. He’s a cardiothoracic surgeon. He performed the corrective heart procedures I had done as a teenager.”
His head flops back on the rest behind him. “Jesus Christ. So . . . did you just say teenager?”
“Nothing happened until I was legal. Whatever we did mostly consisted of sneaking around,” I add quickly, glancing over at him, because I can tell what he’s thinking.
“Summer.” He groans and throws a hand over his face. “That doesn’t make it any better.”
“I know,” I reply, quietly.
“Someone should report him. Doctors can’t go around dating their teenaged patients.” His tone is biting.
My eyes go wide. I don’t want to make this a thing. I want to leave it all in the past where it belongs. I don’t hate Rob; I just want to move on from him. “Please, please don’t say anything. I shouldn’t have said anything to you. I was just . . . explaining myself, I guess.”
Rhett sighs raggedly. “You don’t owe me an explanation. It’s him who should be explaining himself.” He gazes out the window, shaking his head before muttering, “Saw you on TV, my ass.”
I glance over again, almost nervously this time. My hands twist on the steering wheel. “I don’t know. People pleaser, I guess. Things with Rob and I were complicated. I guess they still are. It’s like, logically, I know that our relationship was fucked up. But he saved my life. Before him I was very sick, and he fixed me. And it’s impossible to reconcile those two things.”
Rhett grunts. I bet to him a lot of my family relationships seem awfully complicated.
“You deserve so much better, Summer. It’s like you’re so busy forcing yourself to smile and be happy all the time that you don’t even realize when you’re entitled to be pissed off.”
His statement strikes me silent while I desperately search for something adequate to reply with. “Thank you for standing up for me today. To my sister. And with the . . .” I remove one hand from the wheel and wave it around almost spastically.
“Kiss?” he supplies.
“Yeah, that. I’m so glad we can go back to a professional working relationship after that.”
Rhett quirks a brow in my direction, watching me lick my lips and swallow while avoiding his gaze.
“And thank you for keeping my secret about Rob.”
Rhett’s only reply is to grind his teeth.
17
Rhett
Summer: Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m at the staff meeting. I trust you to hold it together for one afternoon.
Rhett: Shit, Princess. I don’t know. I might go crazy without you.
Summer: For ducks’ sake.
Summer: Duck
Summer: *Duck
Summer: FUCK. Ugh. Why can’t my phone learn that word? I’ll be back around dinnertime.
Rhett: Quack.
“This is a bad fuckin’ idea.” Cade looks downright murderous on the back of his red mare as we ride through the pasture.
“No way.” Beau, on the other hand, looks giddy. “This is fun. Like old times.”