Part of me can’t help but wonder why he hasn’t asked me for more? Pushed me for sex? Despite what he claims he wants for us, part of me thinks that Rhett might not be as into me, as attracted to me as I am him. But then wouldn’t he have bailed by now? Once again, self-doubt is my biggest enemy and I’m not willing to let it ruin whatever it is that Rhett and I have together. I won’t let it. Rhett deserves better than that, and quite honestly so do I. Ugh. It has only been a couple weeks, I guess. It just feels like I’ve known him for so much longer and I’ve never felt a connection like I have with him.

When we take the next exit ramp, I’m still unsure of where we are heading. Rhett drives through the curves with precision and we only slow when we get closer to the lake. It’s beautiful. I’ve never been here but I’ve driven past many times before. Stopping the bike and killing the ignition, Rhett stays where he is but offers me his hand to assist my rather ungraceful dismount from the bike. Lord, my legs feel like rubber.

“Whoa, Beautiful!” Getting off the motorcycle, he braces a hand on each side of my hips and steadies the slight sway I was rockin’. “You okay?”

Besides my embarrassment? “I’m good, thank you.”

He pulls a rolled up blanket and a paper bag from the other saddlebag then takes my hand in his. Rhett tugs me over the paved walkway and onto the sand. I successfully hide the smile that happens when I look down to see his black engineer boots sink inches into the sand. Not exactly beachwear, but that’s Rhett. The wind is just high enough that the waves are topped with whitecaps.

“This is good as any, I guess.” Rhett stops and spreads the blanket—well, he tries to lay the blanket, but the wind isn’t cooperating.

“Need a hand?”

“Maybe four!”

By the time we get the blanket somewhat settled we are both cracking up. I have tears in my eyes.

“Probably not the best day for a lakeside picnic, huh?”

I can tell Rhett’s embarrassed, but I find the whole situation hysterical. The guy tried—like really tried and a little wind isn’t going to scare me. Pulling a hair tie from my wrist, I secure my tangled hair in a messy bun and meet Rhett’s gaze, which is locked on me. “What?”

He shakes his head slightly. “I like that you’re a go with the flow chick.”

Interesting comment, but I’m not asking him to explain further. I’d rather enjoy our time here.

I see the moment he comes back to reality and snaps his eyes from mine. Hmm…wonder what that was about?

“I picked us up sandwiches from—”

“Not from CeeCee’s?”

“You know it.” Rhett hands me the white paper wrapped piece of heaven and says, “wheat bread, smoked turkey, tomato and light mayo.” It may only be a sandwich but the fact that he knows exactly how I like it? Touches me. Pathetic, right? Whatever. It’s been so long—actually I’ve never had a man who knew even the minuscule factoid of how I prefer light mayo over regular. It means something.

“Thank you, Rhett.” The man could seduce me with a simple sandwich. Dear God, let that be his intent.

“Did I get it right?”

“You’re perfect—I mean it’s perfect, thanks.” I fidget under his intense stare, and I know he caught my verbal fumble.

In mere seconds, his thick fingers pinch my chin raising my eyes to his. “You do know I think the same, right?” He smirks that smirk that only he has. A bit of bad boy mixed with good ol’ boy to boot.

“I’m far from perfect, Rhett, far from.”

That’s when he closes the distance between us, but he doesn’t go straight for my mouth or stick his tongue down my throat like most of my dates do. No, Rhett stops just a breath away from my lips. We’re sharing the same air. Existing on the same oxygen.

“We can be perfectly imperfect together then.” It’s then that his lips lightly touch mine, and even though it’s only seconds, my body reacts as if he’s primed me for hours.

Chapter Twelve

**Rhett**

Jesus, I want devour her mouth; I want to shove my tongue down her throat. It’s like I’m some teen still in the throes of puberty and about to touch my first boob. I’m amazed that I could keep my hands to myself through the whole meal. After I finish my last bite of sandwich, I see Skye wrap what’s left of hers back in the paper it came in. “Done?”

“Yeah, I’m done, I’ll probably finish it—”

“In a couple hours?” I’ve already picked up on her habits and I know in a couple hours or so she’ll finish what’s left of her supper, and she’ll wash it down with half a glass of sweet tea. Hell, I even know she’ll use her favorite Coke glass the one with the green tint to it that resides next to her kitchen sink. Her smile is a thing of beauty.

“I’m that predictable, huh?”

“I’m not sure if it’s predictable as much as adorable.”

“Me? Nuh-uh,” she denies, uncapping her water and taking a sip. Those luscious lips hug the plastic bottle and make me jealous that I wasn’t the one graced with their touch. Fuck! Skye has the sexiest neck I’ve ever seen. I’ve never noticed a woman’s neck before, but Skye’s is smooth and feminine and the way her throat muscles move— “I’m not adorable.”

“You’re right, you’re not.” I reply, my eyes leaving her neck as I watch the slight frown form on that face that I’ve come to cherish. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Every fucking time she blushes like she is now my pulse picks up and my breath hitches. Like a goddamn teen again.

Unzipping her ankle boots and pulling off her socks, I realize I’ve never seen her completely barefoot before and it feels intimate. This is the reason we’re taking this slow and steady. I’ve never felt that a woman’s bare toes were sexy but Skye’s blue—yes, blue painted toes are extremely sexy. The rhinestone toe ring gives off a glint in the now fading sunlight just before she digs her toes into the sand.

“So?”

Narrowing my eyes, I toss it back to her. “Soooooo?”

“Truth or dare?” she says, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Seriously?” I clear my throat, repelling the unsure lump in my throat. “Truth.” Chicken shit!

“Is it true that you dated Candy when you worked at Pinkies four years ago?”

Christ. “I only—”

She shakes her head. “Ah-ah, only need a one word answer there, bud.”

“Truth but—” I’m tempted to bite that finger she’s shaking at me.

“Shhh! All I needed to know.”

The hell it is, but I’ll play along…for now. “Fine, truth or dare, Beautiful?” I know she can feel the challenge in my eyes.

“Truth.”

“Is it true that you had your turn on the pole at the previous mentioned strip club?” I expect a quick denial. I knew when Nate said it he was full of shit.

“I had been drinking and—”

I cut her off as quickly as she had me and throw her own words back at her. “Only one word answers, Skye.” That little hmphing thing she does is as fucking precious as it is hysterical.

All week I’ve wondered if what Nate had said was true. I figured he was bullshitting because honestly that’s what Nate does. I’d have paid to seen her on the stage…if it ever happened in the first place. All those curves on display. Hips swaying to the music, lights reflecting off her shiny dark hair.

Taking in the sexy as fuck way she bit into her bottom lip and the fact she wouldn’t—rather couldn’t look me in the eyes I knew, I just knew the answer before she said it aloud.

“Truth.”

I heard the word from her own lips, saw the word slip from her mouth, and yet I found it hard to believe. Skye released that throaty laugh that sends a heat through my veins and simmers low in my groin. “No shit?”

When she laughed again, I felt my chest tighten. How the hell her embarrassed low laugh paired with an extremely charming blush hit me quite so hard I’m unsure. It did. No, she did.