Now it’s his turn to flinch. We don’t talk much about his philandering. It’s awkward, because I’m the by-product of it, and I don’t want to hear him say he regrets it. “No. I do it because I love what I do. I built this company from the ground up and worked my ass off to get Hamilton Elite to where it is today.”
“I know. And one day, you’ll be able to pass it off to me and enjoy a lavish retirement.”
“No, Summer. That was never my end game. I wanted to show you that anything was possible. That our transgressions don’t define us. I did a shitty thing, but one of the very best things in my life came out of it. Things will always be strained between Marina and I because as much as I apologize to her, I can’t bring myself to say that I regret it. Because I have you.”
Tears spring up in my eyes. “Yeah, well, I bet you didn’t know I’d be such a time suck when you signed up to keep me.”
“Summer, stop.” He leans forward, a broad hand spread out on the table between us. “If Marina or that piece of shit your sister married ever made you feel unworthy for even one moment, put it out of your mind. You are not a burden. You are not a waste of time. You are very wanted. And anyone who makes you feel you’re anything less deserves Rhett Eaton’s fist to their face. Or yours. You can hit back too, you know? I’ll bail you out every fucking time.”
A tear spills down my cheek, and I nod. “I know you will. And I want to be that for you, too. I want to be here helping you. Carrying on your legacy.”
“Summer.” His voice drops along with his shoulders. “This place isn’t my legacy. This place is where I busy my mind and body. This place is my passion. My legacy is showing you that if you pursue something you love, you’ll make it work. Blood. Sweat. Tears. And a whole lotta love. Do you feel that way about this place?”
I sniffle and blink rapidly, regarding the shiny, bright, immaculate and modern office. All I want is the smell of sweaty mats at a gym and the clanking of plates on the end of a barbell. I want open fields, crisp air, and the Rocky Mountains at the end of the horizon.
I want a man who smells like leather, looks like a glass of bourbon, and who calls me princess while drawing on my back.
I want Rhett to unsay what he said.
I want him to want me. More than he wants anything. I deserve that. He taught me that I do.
“No, I don’t. I just don’t want to let you down,” I sob, my control cracking.
Kip reaches across the desk, holding his palm up and wiggling his fingers until I place my hand in his. “Listen to me carefully, Summer. The only way you could ever disappoint me is by not living your life to the fullest. Not going after what exhilarates you. You deserve that. And you deserve someone who wants that for you.”
He wraps his fingers around my wrist as I attempt to pull away. “I’m not stupid. I know things are strained between you and Rhett after that explosion. But I also know that men don’t look at a woman the way he looks at you unless they’re out of their goddamn mind for that person. I know you’re so accustomed to pleasing everyone that you give and give until you have nothing left to give. Rhett might be a little rough around the edges, but maybe you smooth him out and he scuffs you up. I don’t know. Only you can make these decisions. But what I saw that night was a man who’d burn everything down to defend you. I saw a man who’d risk it all to take care of you.”
“I don’t need to be taken care of.”
“Maybe not. But that man wears his love for you on his sleeve for the entire world to see. And he doesn’t give a shit who sees it. He’d scream it from the mountain tops if you asked him to. It’s written all over him. And you definitely need that.”
I blow out a breath and stare up at the ceiling. Rhett loving me. It seems so unlikely. So far-fetched.
“Are you going to Vegas for the finals?”
Kip gets my attention with that comment. “Are you trying to play matchmaker again? It’s fucking annoying.”
“Well, are you?”
“Of course not. I’ll be working to make up for your old ass being laid up,” I try to joke. It’s familiar footing for us, but it comes out all watery.
The thought of Rhett chasing his third title without a soul in the stands who really knows him is a gut punch. I shouldn’t care so much, but I do. It makes more tears fall thinking of the wild boy who lost his mom, who doesn’t have the support of his family, riding injured for what could be the last time. A stadium full of strangers cheering him on, but not a single person who loves him there to witness it. No one to share it with.