Ruthless Bastard (Dangerous Love 3)

“Yes, sir.”

Hank’s expression shifted, filling with his usual warmth before he said, “All right, I’ll get out of your hair. See you in the morning.”

Rhett nodded, then gave Hank a wave before he drove off. He didn’t deserve Hank’s warmth and affection. He deserved having Hank yell and punch him for knocking up his daughter, but that wasn’t Hank’s way.

With a sigh, Rhett turned to his house, feeling about a second away from crawling out of his skin. He forced his feet to take him in that direction, and when he entered through the back door of his house, the aroma of spices slammed into him, bringing memories of when his mother cooked. He could almost hear her yell, “Get those dirty boots off and wash up for dinner.”

It’d been a long time since his parents had come home, busy with their new lives far from Stoney Creek.

Tonight, though, it was Kinsley who stood at the sink with two T-bone steaks already grilled, mixing together a Caesar salad. Rhett was monetarily stunned by the view, and his reaction to it. He never brought women home to his space, and yet with Kinsley, he didn’t mind her there. Oddly, a slight flicker of warmth eased over his chest. His house was always so empty, cold almost.

But her…nothing about Kinsley was cold.

“Wow, you survived the dad-talk,” she said with a laugh, giving him a full once-over. “I had this ready for you just in case it went badly.” She handed him an already opened beer.

He accepted the bottle. “You thought your dad planned to rip into me, huh?”

“It was a toss-up, but I’m glad to see he actually listened to me and is letting me handle my own life.” She leaned closer and sniffed him. Her grin widened. “I see Remy got to you again, didn’t she?”

He felt a frown tug on his mouth. “I smell that bad?”

“It’s actually a nice smell.” Her mouth twitched. “Just not on a man.”

“Great,” Rhett groaned, still standing by the doorway. He should say something. But the only thing he came up with was, “Can I do something to help you?”

“Nope.” She fixed another plate and gestured to the full plate on the counter. “Just eat.”

A cold rush rooted him to the spot. He stared at the plate then at her. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“You don’t know how to eat?” she teased. But at his silence, she turned around and stared at him for a long moment then nodded like she had the answer to a question he never asked. She added utensils to both of their plates, then took her food and headed for the living room, not saying another word.

A second later, his television turned on.

Before he followed her, he stopped to get her water with ice, realizing he had no idea what she liked, and whatever it was, he probably didn’t have it anyway. Bad move, West. He should have thought of that. He cursed and grabbed his plate, keeping hold of his beer and her water, and entered his living room. The space lacked warmth. Like Rhett’s soul, it contained only the necessities, not offering much of anything except a cold space to rest awhile. But pure warmth sat on the chair facing the television.

“Have you ever seen The Office?” Kinsley asked, cutting into her steak.

He glanced at the television screen, realizing she was on his Netflix. “No.”

“No?” she asked. “Oh, good, then I know what we’re doing while I’m here. Total Office marathon. You’ll love it. It’s so funny.”

His heart raced as he set his plate and beer down on the coffee table. “Here,” he said, handing her the water.

She glanced up. “Oh, thanks,” she said with a full mouth. She took the glass, set it down, then focused right back on the television.

He couldn’t help the amusement that drifted up, bringing a smile to his face. Kinsley had always been this woman who seemed cut from a different cloth than anyone else. She didn’t have manners like other women. Her hair wasn’t neat, her messy bun obviously just thrown up there without a look in the mirror, and if she had makeup on, he couldn’t see it. He assumed that was because she was raised by her father and not her mother. But he liked that about her. Christ, no, he found that sexy. Low maintenance was hot.

He clamped that thought down immediately, forcing his gaze to his plate, not blind to how her sweet laughter touched tender places in his chest and how he remembered hearing that laugh when his kisses tickled her sides.

“If you’re waiting for your dinner to somehow taste better, you’re out of luck. I’m a terrible cook.”

He glanced into those bright blue eyes and felt sucked right in. Any other woman and he’d have to find something to say, but not this woman. He smiled softly. “As long as it doesn’t kill me, I’ll think it’s good.”

Either he said the right thing or his smile warmed her because her expression went utterly soft. “Well, I haven’t quite decided if I’m going to kill you yet, but don’t worry, I have no plans to do so tonight.” And with a wink, she turned her attention back to the television and all but shoveled her salad into her mouth.

He decided to do the same.

Chapter 7