Page 23 of Just What She Needed

"Oh, no, he couldn't," Mel declared. "I have rules about my relationships, and the main one is that they do not invade my space unless I invite them to. None of my men ever stops by unannounced."

As if to contradict her assertion, the soft chime of the doorbell sounded. Both women stared at each other for a moment before breaking into giggles.

"Somebody's gonna get it," Rhett sang as Mel extricated herself from the chair.

"You better believe it," Mel tossed over her shoulder as she strode into the entryway.

Curious, Rhett craned her neck over the back of the couch, but a corner of the wall blocked her view of the door. Expecting to hear her sister ream out a rule-breaking boyfriend, her curiosity ratcheted higher at Mel's sexy purr.

"Well, hello there, handsome. What brings you down here?"

Curiosity turned to astonishment when she heard Rhys answer. "You must be Melanie."

"I am, but please call me Mel. Come on in."

"Mel it is, then," he said. "Actually, I was wondering if Rhett is home."

Shit! Rhett hadn't been aware he'd returned from Chicago. To her amazement, he kept in touch with her by text while he was gone. She'd been astonished two days after she ran into him in the fitness room to see his name flash across the screen of her phone.

If anyone ever asks you to take a teenage boy car shopping, the text read, have them shoot you in the head and put you out of your misery before you agree.

Grinning, she texted back: Being picky, is he?

The reply came back almost immediately. Not at all. He knows just what he wants.

So what's the problem?

The problem is that I'm going to buy a reasonably priced, dependable SUV. He wants a classic Aston Martin. Can't get it through his head that's not going to happen. Wish I was in Dallas watching Charmed with you. Later.

Over the next week, random texts like that continued to come. They were always friendly and light-hearted, cursing the idiocy of putting anchovies on pizza and asking what toppings she preferred, asking her opinion as the mother of a daughter how many clothes for a teenage girl were too many (her response was that there were never too many, to which he replied You're no help, sweetheart), and suggesting other DVDs they might watch together once they finished Charmed. He was pushing for Friends, but only the early years since he claimed the show went to hell once Monica and Richard broke up.

Funny, sarcastic, thoughtful, even a little flirty at times, each texting session always ended with a variation of "wish I were in Dallas with you." After she received one of those, Rhett was left dry mouthed and tingly with excitement. She tried not to read too much into them, but she couldn't extinguish the wild hope that maybe he wanted to know her as much as she wanted to know him.

But none of his texts indicated he was on his way back to Texas, and now here he was showing up at the door unannounced.

One hand flew to her hair as Rhett recalled it was just yanked back into a messy ponytail. She snatched the elastic out, wincing as a few stray strands came with it. The ends of her hair tickled her shoulders as she ran her fingers through it in an attempt to erase any creases left by the ponytail. At the same time, she glanced down at herself, horrified at her attire. The hot-pink racer-back tank top belonged to Mel and was about a size and a half too snug for Rhett. And her jeans...Oh, hell, they couldn't even be called jeans anymore. Holdouts from the early days of her marriage, they were nothing more than a collection of rips and holes held together by fraying strips of denim from her knees to the top of her thighs. The only reason she’d kept them is because she was thrilled they fit her again. Maybe Mel had the right idea about allowing no unscheduled visits from men.

The voices grew closer, and Rhett leapt to her feet, tugging at the hem of her shirt in a futile attempt to cover the strip of skin revealed between it and the waistband of her jeans.

"Yeah, she's right in here." Mel's voice grew clearer as they came around the corner and into view.

When she saw the way Rhys was dressed, Rhett relaxed a bit. It appeared it was Casual Saturday at the condominiums. While his jeans weren't as dilapidated as hers, they'd still seen better days, and his blood red T-shirt was a faded one from Illicit's 1993 U.S. tour. He even had his hair pulled back in a ponytail.

But that's where the comparisons stopped. While Rhett was positive she looked like the rag picker's child, Rhys could be described by no other word than stunning. The faded denim rode low on his hips and hugged his thighs like he'd been sewn into them. Ditto for the immaculate fit of the T-shirt. And his ponytail left strands of hair loose that framed his face in bright, sunny waves.

He didn't seem to notice her discomfort or the ridiculous way she was dressed but smiled at her the moment their eyes met.

"Hi, Rhys." Oh, God, did that breathy sound really just come out of her?

Apparently it did since Rhys's smile deepened into a grin. "Hello, there. Are you busy right now?"

"Um, no. Just vegging on the couch." She realized she was still yanking on the hem of her shirt and forced her hands to still. "What's up?"

"I have a surprise for you. Come with me?"

"Oh. Okay." She took a step forward but halted at the prickle of the plush area rug under her bare feet. "Let me just get my shoes first."

"You don't need 'em." His eyes were twinkling with anticipation, and Rhett's midsection was immediately invaded by a swarm of butterflies. Several of them raided her chest when he held out a hand to her in invitation.