Flawless (Chestnut Springs #1) (69)

“People are definitely looking,” she murmurs.

I pull one hand up and shuck her chin back toward me. “Good. Let them look.”

She just blinks at me. And I hate that anyone has ever made her feel like she isn’t worth being seen with. Like she’s some dirty secret to hide.

“They’re going to talk.”

“Then let them talk. You know I don’t give a fuck what people think, Summer. And there is no one I’d rather ruin my reputation with.”

With one hand still gripping her chin, I kiss her.

Fuck these people. Fuck Rob. Fuck her shitty sister. Fuck anyone who would make this woman feel like anything less than she is.

She stiffens at first—shocked—but when her fingers go back to moving in my hair and her lips slide against mine, I know I have her permission to keep going. To keep ruining my reputation, right here and now, with her.

If I were paying attention to anything other than the woman in my arms, I’d hear the hearts of girls breaking and the sound of my brothers whooping and laughing.

But all I hear is the pounding of my heart and the sweet sighing noise Summer makes when my tongue dances with hers.

We stand here. In plain view. Kissing. In the middle of a makeshift dance floor. No doubt raising some eyebrows. Making a statement.

Doing what we want rather than what we should.





26





Rhett





Summer: Wanna go for a midnight drive?

Rhett: Now who’s the animal?

Summer: Still you. I’m the princess.

Rhett: Fuckin’ right you are. My princess.

Summer: Okay, Neanderthal. Meet outside? Bring a condom.

Summer: Actually, a few condoms.

Rhett: I just bought a whole box. You should have seen the look I got from the cashier.

Summer: Great. We’ll probably be in the town newspaper tomorrow.

Rhett: What a headline that would be.

Summer: Gross. Are we going out or what?

Rhett: Wear one of those prissy skirts, but no panties. Meet at the rust bucket.





“What is this?” Summer places a gift bag in the middle of the table where I’m sitting, enjoying a coffee by myself. I’m feeling a little wrung out after saying goodbye to Beau this morning. He and my dad hit the road together to drive back to Ottawa, and while Summer’s been at the gym, I’ve spent the last hour wondering if how I feel about saying goodbye to my brother is how they all feel every time I leave for an event.

“It’s a bag, Summer.”

I wonder how Summer feels when she watches me get onto the back of an angry bull. I don’t know why, but I’ve never spent a lot of time considering how my job might make everyone else feel. I’ve been too busy not caring about what anyone thinks.

And trying not to terrify myself with the realities of this sport.

She juts out her hip and quirks her head, causing her thick ponytail to flop down her slender neck. The flyaways over her forehead stick to her damp skin after her workout. “No shit, Eaton.”

“Where’d it come from?”

I give her a lopsided smirk. “Me.”

She rolls her lips together, appraising me. “What is it?”

We’ve spent the last few days stealing kisses in the hallway. Or driving my old truck out into the field to sink into each other under the open sky. It’s romantic as fuck. It’s also the best sex I’ve ever had.

While I’ve mostly convinced Summer to buck the rules, she’s a real stickler for “not banging in your dad’s house” and is still convinced she needs to hide what we’re doing for some stupid reason—even though everyone knows what we’re doing.

I’ve never been more motivated to get my own place so I can bend her over whenever I please.

“I don’t know how you fancy types do gifts, but ‘round here you find out what the gift is when you open it.”

Her mouth turns down at the corners. “I don’t have anything to give you.”

I laugh. That’s such a Summer thing to say, always worrying about everyone else.

“I don’t want anything, Princess. It’s a gift, just because. Now sit that fine ass down and open it.”

Her head bobs from side to side as she pulls the chair out. “Well, I do love presents,” she murmurs, eyes lighting as she pulls at the tissue paper I shoved in there kind of haphazardly.

When she reaches into the bag, she stills, eyes darting over to me. In a flash, she’s tugging everything out.

With the chaps free of the bag, she makes this satisfied little sighing sound. “Rhett.”

I sip at my coffee and enjoy watching her, every little drop of excitement that plays across her face. I’ve never gotten off on giving someone a gift quite like I’m enjoying this right now.

“Do you like them?”

“Do I like them? Are you kidding me? I love them. But these are from the first rodeo we went to?”

I shrug.

“Did you order them or something?”

“Nope.”

“You bought them while we were there?”

“Yup.”

Her mouth opens and closes as she holds them up again. They really are beautiful. The craftsmanship is top of the line. So was the price tag. When she surged ahead of me, I purchased them as fast as I could.