I set my purse down on the table. “I wanted to take a quick shower before my shift, but I can do that at Coop’s if I’m interrupting something.” I wave between the two lovebirds.
Clearing her throat, Sharon excuses herself. “I’m going to give you two some privacy.” Her fingers graze the top of my dad’s hand on her way out of the room, and I can’t help but smile.
Eyebrows raised, I turn to my dad, giving him a silent what’s up with that look.
“Rhett s-stayed the n-n-night the other night.”
“Oh no,” I laugh. “You are not turning this around on me. I haven’t been hiding Rhett from you. I’ve been open and honest about us getting back together. But this…what is this? Are you and Sharon…”
I leave my words hanging in the air because I don’t even know what to say to my father. Are you dating? Are you sleeping together?
Can he even have sex?
Shit. I shake the thoughts away before I give myself a heart attack.
“You know what? It’s none of my business. You are a grown man capable of making your own decisions.” With my hands raised in the air, I turn to go down the hall, only to stop when my dad says…
“I’m h-happy.”
With a resigned sigh, I turn around and walk back to the table, sitting down next to my father.
“She m-makes me h-h-happy,” he says, his voice cracking on the last word. “Haven’t h-had that in a l-l-long time.”
Well, shit, if that doesn’t make my heart smile, I don’t know what will. “When did you two…start dating? Is that what we’re calling it here? Because I’m a little confused. You’re gonna have to help a daughter out.”
Dad laughs, and I realize that’s a sound I haven’t heard in way too long. “We’re n-not dating.”
“Wow. Okay. Not gonna lie, this is a little awkward. So, you’re…sleeping together? Is this a physical thing?”
The words sound worse coming out of my mouth than they did in my head, and all I can think is Abort! Abort! “Forget I said that. If it’s a physical thing, I’d rather not know.” A little lost and a lot confused, I rub a hand over my face.
“No. N-not sleeping together. She just m-makes me happy.”
I stare at him, confused. “So, you’re not dating and you’re not…you know…sleeping together. What are you?”
“F-friends.”
“Friends don’t kiss.”
Dad’s brows furrow. I can tell he’s getting frustrated as he tries to explain.
“Maybe I can help,” Sharon says, walking back into the kitchen. She retakes the seat she vacated, rests her hand on my dad’s, and looks at me.
“Your mother has been gone for a long time, and so has my Jack. Life gets lonely sometimes, which is why I offered to take over as your father’s caregiver. It’s also why I don’t mind letting you go do extra things while I stay here with him. Your dad is a wonderful man, Mo, but I don’t have to tell you that.” She smiles at me and then looks at him. “I’ve spent the last six years taking care of him, every day. You don’t spend that much time with someone and not grow close to them.”
I guess I didn’t look at it like that. To me, Sharon is my best friend’s mom and a nurse who takes care of my dad. Sure, she’s always been special to me, but I guess I failed to consider her as a widowed woman who still wants to be cared for and loved.
“I don’t want to get married—Jack was the love of my life—but I’ve realized over the years that it’s okay for me to love another man. It’s okay for me to find comfort with another man’s touch, even if it’s just the touch of his hand.”
“Do you love my father?”
She answers without hesitation. “Very much.”
Dad squeezes Sharon’s hand, and she bends down so he can kiss her cheek. The move is so fluid I’d swear they’ve been doing it for years.
“How long has this been going on?”
Sharon shrugs. “I can’t answer that. It’s been organic over the last several years. Your father and I have shared many stories over many meals. We’ve laughed, cried, watched movies, done all the things a normal couple would do, and one day, it just happened.”
“Is this why you want to go into assisted living?” I ask, looking at Dad. “Because you want more privacy?” I’m not sure how much more privacy the two of them could get. I’m usually only home long enough to sleep.
Sharon frowns at Dad, clearly unaware of the talk he and I had the other day. “You’re not going into assisted living, not as long as I’m around,” she declares. “You might need help, but you’re too independent for a nursing home.”
“That’s exactly what I said. See? You’re out numbered, Dad.”
“No,” he says. “I want t-to give y-you more priv—acy. You and R-rhett or whomever y-you might date.”
“Dad.” I close my eyes, hating that he feels this way.
“Move in with me,” Sharon tells him, a little too eagerly for my liking.
“No.” I shake my head.
“Why not?” she challenges. “I’m with him all the time anyway. This way you’ll save some money. You can stop paying me to come over, and I can enjoy my retirement with your father and take care of him at the same time. It’s a win-win.”
“It’s a full-time job,” I remind her.
“Mo, sweetheart, taking care of your father isn’t a job or a chore. I enjoy it the same way I enjoyed taking care of Jack. Sure, it’s a little more work, but I don’t have kids running around anymore or a job to take up my time.”
Dad is watching me, but I can’t decipher his expression.
“Is this what you want?” I ask.
“I want t-to be h-h-happy and enjoy the l-life I have l-left.”
“Jesus, Dad, you make it sound like you’re ancient and dying—which you’re not, by the way. You’re still young and have a lot of years ahead of you.”
“I k-know, and I want t-to enjoy them.”
My mind is spinning right now. For so long, it’s just been the two of us. What will happen if he leaves? He’s been my motivation for the last six years—the reason I get up every morning and work my ass off. What will I do when I don’t have that anymore?
You’ll do all the things you’ve dreamed about.
“You’re not happy here?” I hate to ask the question, but I need to know. “Did I do something wrong? Did I upset you? I know I’m gone all the time but—” I choke on the words, and Dad raises his hand from Sharon’s to place it on mine.
Time and life and stress show on his aged skin, his hands not as thick and powerful as they once were. But they’re still the hands that took care of me, the hands that gave me a good life. Bending down, I kiss his knuckles.
“You did n-nothing wrong, Mo. I couldn’t h-have asked f-for a b-b-better daughter. Now it’s y-your turn t-to be happy and l-l-live your life. I want to g-give you your l-life back.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, but I’m unable to stop the tears from forming. Squeezing my eyes shut, I feel them on my cheeks as he continues.
“I want you t-to be able t-t-to go out to d-dinner with Rhett without w-worrying about who is g-going to stay with me. I-I want you to go b-back to school, if that’s something you w-want to do. I want you to b-be young, Monroe. Young and h-happy.”
Swiping at the tears, I lower my head to Dad’s shoulder. “We’ll talk about it, okay? If this is what you want, we’ll talk about it. Me, you, and Sharon. We’ll find time to sit down and work things out. But I want you to be sure.” I give Sharon a firm look. “He’s my life, and I need to know you’re ready for this.”
She nods, tears in her eyes, and I can tell from the look on her face that I have my answer. Somewhere along the way, they fell in love, and who am I to judge that or stop it from blossoming?
“Okay.” I kiss both of them on the cheek and stand up. “I’m gonna leave you two alone. I’ll grab my clothes and take a shower at Coop’s. I told Rhett I’d stop by before my shift anyway.”
I
walk to my room and collect my uniform and brush, and when I get to the front door, Sharon is waiting on me. As soon as I’m within reach, she pulls me into a hug.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
Pressing my face against her hair, I breathe in her familiar scent and relax, knowing my dad couldn’t be in a better set of hands.
“For what?” The way I see it, I should be thanking her for making my father happy in a way I can’t.
“For sharing him with me.”
Monroe
“I thought you were working tonight,” Coop says as I blow through his front door.
“I am. Just dropped by to see Rhett before my shift and grab a quick shower. He in his room?”
“No, he’s in the shower.”
“Lucky me,” I tease.
“I better not hear any funny noises coming from the bathroom,” he hollers.
I wink and stride down the hall. The bathroom door is cracked, so I sneak in, strip out of my clothes, and step in behind Rhett.
He doesn’t even startle when I slide my hands around his soapy body and reach for his cock. It’s half-mast but grows quickly in the palm of my hand.
“Is this a common occurrence, women joining you in the shower? Should I be worried that you didn’t even flinch when I touched you?”
“You should be worried that your stealth skills are waning with age,” he says, wrapping his hand around mine, guiding it over his cock as he shows me the rhythm he likes. “You should also be worried that you won’t make it to work on time.”
“Oh no.” Releasing his cock, I steal the loofah from his hands. “I’m already running late.”
Rhett whips around. “You touched my cock, babe. Now it wants you.” We look down at his straining erection. It’s covered in suds and bobbing heavily between us.
Rhett grabs his cock, working it while I watch. “Why are you running late?”
Dammit. I squeeze my thighs together to suppress the growing ache, but it’s useless.
“Mo, I asked you a question.”
“Huh?” Peeling my eyes away, I blink up at his face. “I can’t concentrate when you touch yourself.”
He lets go of his cock, his soapy hand finding my hip. “I asked why you’re running late. Something happen at Animal Haven?”
“No. More like something happened at my house.”
He tilts his head, and I sigh, dropping my forehead to his chest.
“I walked in on my dad and Sharon kissing.” Several seconds pass, and I look up. “Say something.”
“That’ll kill the mood.”
Laughing, I reach for his cock and sure enough, it’s shrinking.
“If we’re going to talk about your dad kissing your best friend’s mom, I’m going to need you to let go of my dick, babe.”
“Sorry.” I let it go, but not without one final squeeze.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t have time,” I say, soaping the top half of my body. “It’s going to have to wait until after my shift.”
Rhett takes the loofah back. “You talk; I’ll wash.”
Nothing in this world is better than a naked, wet Rhett kneeling between my legs. I’m tempted to latch onto his hair and shove his face between my thighs.
“Talk or I’ll stop.” He runs the loofah up the inside of one leg and then other.
“Right. Sorry.”
Rhett does as promised, washing my body first and then my hair as I replay everything that happened with my dad. I finish the story about the same time he finishes rinsing the conditioner from my hair. With his hands on my shoulders, he turns me to face him.
“It sounds like this could be a good thing.”
“I know. But my feelings are so jumbled, I don’t know how I feel about it. I want him to be happy, and it would be nice to be able to do a few things I want to do, but who will I come home to? Who will eat cinnamon rolls with me on Saturday mornings and listen to my sad animal stories?”
“Me.”
My knees go a little wobbly. Did he just say that? “But your job…you said you’re traveling all the time.”
He puts his face right in front of mine. “I do travel all the time, but I’m home a few days during the week, and we have summers off,” he says, kissing me.
“But you train in Houston.”
“Are you trying to find a reason to keep me away, Mo?” he whispers.
“No. That’s not it at all. I’m trying to figure out how we fit into each other’s lives.”
Taking my hand in his, Rhett brushes wet hair from my face. “I can train anywhere. My life isn’t in Houston.”
“But your home is.”
“Home is a figurative word. My home isn’t where I lay my head at night.”
Oh my. We’re doing this. We’re really doing this. “It’s not?”
“Relax, Mo. Take a deep breath,” he instructs, running his hands up my arms. I follow his command, allowing the oxygen to seep into my body and carry the doubt away. “Home is where I find peace when I’m stressed, happiness when I’m sad, balance when life gets crazy—and trust me, it gets a little crazy.”
“And where do you find peace and happiness and balance?”
Please say in Heaven. Please say in Heaven.
“It’s not where, Mo; it’s who.”
My heart fills with warmth as his words soak in. We’re in our own little world, the hot water beating against our bodies as his eyes hold mine. I wait for the words, wait for him to tell me I’m his home, but I can see the hesitation in his eyes.
He still doesn’t trust me with his heart. He wants to trust me, but I have to show him. He has to see that I’m here to stay and I’ll never hurt him the way I did before.
“You’re my who, Rhett Allen.” Cupping his jaw in my hands, I kiss him gently. “I’ve got to get ready for work, but this conversation isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
I yank open the curtain and have one foot out of the shower when I’m hauled back against a large, warm, wet chest. His lips mold to mine in a bone-melting kiss. I allow myself a moment to drown in his arms.
“I’m getting there,” he whispers.
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
It takes all of my self-control to step out of the shower and leave him behind, but I have a job to get to and bills to pay. I’m pulling up my pants when Rhett’s phone rings from a pile of clothes on the bathroom floor.
“Can you grab that, babe?”
I shuffle through his clothes, but by the time I pull his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans, the call has ended.
Missed Call: Nikki Cell appears on the screen.
I glance at the shower and back at the phone. Why is she calling? I thought he fired her. A second later his phone beeps with an incoming text from Nikki.
I know we left things on shaky ground, but I’m glad we got to talk the other night, and I can’t wait to see you. Next Wednesday is perfect. I miss you.
Stuffing his phone back in his pocket, I sink onto the toilet seat, feeling like someone reached into my body and pulled my guts out. I swear I don’t breathe for an entire minute as I run through all the things that text could mean.
Is he talking to her again?
Is he planning on seeing her next Wednesday?
Why would he see her next Wednesday?
Was he going to tell me about it?
Does he miss her too?
Adrenaline pumps through my veins, along with a rush of anger and confusion.
Sometime between finding out the truth of what Nikki did to us and having our lovely shower talk about home, he talked to Nikki and made plans to meet up.
I stand on wobbly legs, tug my shirt over my head, and brush through my tangles. Twisting my hair into a pile on my head, I secure it with a ponytail holder and wait for the water to shut off.
“Who called?” Rhett asks, yanking the shower curtain open. He reaches for a towel, runs it over his head and looks at me expectantly. “Mo
?”
“Yeah?”
“Who called?”
“Nikki.”
His gaze jumps from the phone to me. “Mo.”
“I have to go.”
I walk out of the bathroom as he stumbles from the shower, reaching for his boxers. “Mo, wait. It’s not what you think.”
Flinging my purse over my shoulder, I pull open the front door, slamming it shut as I walk out. I’m halfway to my car when it flies open again.
“Mo, wait.”
“We’ll talk about this later. I’m going to be late for work.”
I slam the truck door shut and stick the key in the ignition, but I don’t have the strength to crank it over. Dropping my head to the steering wheel, I blow out a long breath. Today has been a crazy day. My emotions are running high, and I’m afraid if I go back into the house, I’ll say things I’ll regret. But worse yet, I’m afraid if I leave without working things out, I’ll ruin the delicate foundation we’ve begun to build.
I trust Rhett, which is why I reach for the handle at the same time a soft knock taps the window. I kick the door open and get out of the truck.
Rhett has one hand propped against the door, the other against the body, caging me in.
“I was just getting out to come talk to you.”
“Good. I was hoping you weren’t going to leave without letting me explain what her text was about. We don’t walk away mad, okay?”
I nod, but it isn’t good enough.
“We talk through our shit, no matter what it is.”
“I know,” I stress. “Why do you think I was opening the door?”
A smile threatens his scowl. “Nikki called the other day and left me a voicemail.”
“You didn’t answer?”
“Hell no. I have no place for her in my life. She wanted to tell me that Jessica, the woman from Rugged, is planning on coming to the ranch next Wednesday for the shoot. I texted her back and said thank you, that Wednesday would work, and that’s it.”
“Then why did she say she can’t wait to see you?”
“Not a clue. I saw that message right after you walked out. I’ll text her back and make sure she knows she isn’t invited to the shoot.”
Well, don’t I feel like an ass. “I’m sorry.” I sigh. “She just brings up terrible feelings for me. We can’t trust her, Rhett. She’s going to be a hard limit for me.”
Take Me To The Beach Page 17