I snort. “She’s not your wife yet. You aren’t married.”
He laughs and waves me off, opening the door wider. “Details. She said yes. It’s pretty much done in my books. And it just sounds so good, you know?”
I wrinkle my nose and stare back at my little brother. Never thought I’d see him this gone over a girl.
“Is my kid with her?”
“Oh, nah. He’s off with Willa. Summer said to remind you that you said she was in charge so she decided Willa would stay with Luke so she could work at her own business rather than as your personal assistant.”
I roll my lips together and look back out over the wide-open farmland. That sounds exactly like something Summer would say. A loophole in my instructions that she would find.
Rhett holds his hands up in surrender while trying to conceal his amusement. “Her words, not mine.”
Propping my hands on my hips, I sigh before shifting my gaze back on Rhett and grit out, “Tell me about this Willa person. And where exactly is she?”
“Come sit out back with me. You look like you need a beer. Or ten.”
I shake my head as I step into the house. “I do not need ten beers.”
Rhett chuckles as he saunters through the open-concept house to the kitchen, lined with glass doors that open wide onto the sprawling back deck. “Yeah. You do. You look like you could kill someone. It’s not good for your blood pressure. You aren’t getting any younger.”
“Young enough to beat your ass,” I mutter as I toe off my boots and follow him through to the sunny deck.
Within moments, Rhett tosses me a can of beer and steers me toward a chair facing the field that functions as their backyard. There is one lone tree. A huge willow with long sweeping branches that dangle all around, giving it an almost curtain-like effect.
I crack the beer and put the cold can to my lips as Rhett sits in the Adirondack chair next to me. Summer painted them bright red, cheerful just like her.
They remind me of Willa’s hair.
Fucking lame. I push the thought away. And that’s when I hear it.
“I can’t do it.” It’s Luke’s little voice, a hint of distress soaking through.
“Yes, you can,” the slightly raspy tone of the knockout redhead comes next. And I almost shoot out of my seat to run to the rescue.
“Man, just sit. He’s fine. Don’t be a helicopter parent. It’s annoying.”
I ignore the instinct, take a big swig, and strain to hear what’s going on beneath the tree.
“You won’t climb further than you can handle. You’re too smart for that. Trust your body.”
“What if I fall?” Luke’s voice is thin.
“Well, I guess I’ll stand underneath you and you can fall on me so that we both get hurt. Because you’re too big to catch. And you aren’t going to fall anyway. Just listen to me, okay?”
“Okay,” he says, a surge of determination in his tone now.
Rhett glances over at me and grins. “Willa Grant is good shit, brother. If she’s offering to take care of our boy for the summer, you’d be an idiot to turn her down. I don’t know many people more loyal than her. She’s got a big heart.”
I feel like there’s a story there I don’t know. But I also know my brother wouldn’t blow smoke up my ass when it comes to Luke and his well-being.
Her voice trails out from the tree again. “You’re going to move your right foot down to this branch.” A pause. “Attaboy. Then your left hand here. Then you should be able to sit on that branch and jump down.”
I can see her sandaled feet and tight jeans behind the branches as she moves around pointing things out to my son. Soon, small sneakered feet plunk down beside her, followed by little hands catching in the grass.
“I did it!” Luke shoots up, still oblivious to the fact that I’m here.
“Of course, you did. You made this tree your bitch.”
Rhett snorts beside me and I glare at him.
“Oh, come on! You think he hasn’t heard the way you talk?”
“I’ve spent years instilling good manners in that kid.”
He chuckles and shrugs. “Well, if that’s true, then you’ve laid a good foundation, and one summer with a fun nanny won’t ruin him.”
I just grunt and take a sip.
Maybe.
“How high can you go, Willa?”
I expect her to shut him down. Or appease him with some line about how adults don’t climb trees. But she wipes her hands over the round globes of her jean-clad ass and says, “I dunno. Let’s see.”