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fireplier · 8 days ago

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Oh my god. This is so cute and I know for sure rhett would struggle with the tie! Him being a gossip junkie is soooo peak. This is great! Thank you!

Dressed Up, Distracted

Rhett Abbott x Female reader One-Shot

Briefing: Small-town gossip, a cowboy in a tie he can’t stand, and one perfectly domestic night full of teasing, laughter, and lingering kisses in the kitchen.

Words: ~2.6k

Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol, fluffy, flirting, gossip (within the story not irl)

Author note: Thanks in advance for reading, reblogging, and commenting. Just a short story to see if I still have the love for it.

The truck rumbled to a stop outside the nicest restaurant in town—a place that had real candles on the tables and menus without prices you could read without squinting. You glanced over at Rhett as he killed the engine.

He was fidgeting with the knot of his tie like it was a snake around his neck. His brows were drawn together, jaw tight.

“Can’t believe folks pay extra to choke themselves,” he muttered, tugging at it again.

You laughed softly, reaching over to still his hand. “You look good, cowboy. Almost civilized.”

His lips curved into a slow grin. “Almost?”

You gave him a teasing once-over, eyes trailing from his pressed suit jacket to his boots—because of course he refused to wear anything else. “The boots kind of ruin the illusion.”

“Not tradin’ ’em for some city slicker shoes,” he said, shrugging, and climbed out of the truck before you could argue.

Inside, the hostess led you to a small corner table under a dim, golden light. White tablecloth. Cloth napkins folded into neat triangles. You watched Rhett take it all in, his big hands dwarfed the wine glass as he turned it like it was some strange artifact.

He picked up the menu and stared at it like it was written in code. His mouth moved silently, brows furrowed.

You bit back a smile. “You okay over there?”

“Just…” He tapped the paper with a finger. “Never seen a burger with a ‘reduction’ on it. What’s it reducin’, exactly?”

That broke you—you laughed loud enough that the couple at the next table looked over. “It’s like a sauce,” you explained, wiping your eyes.

“So why not just call it a sauce?” He shot you a look, then muttered, “Hell, I should’ve eaten before we left.”

“Relax,” you said, leaning forward on your elbows. “I’ll help you pick something.”

His blue eyes met yours, and for a second, the irritation melted into something softer. A smile tugged at his mouth. “That so?”

“Yes. Because I don’t want you ordering steak tartare thinking it’s steak.”

“Is it not?”

You shook your head, laughing again.

The waiter came, and you ordered wine for both of you before Rhett could request a beer. When the server walked away, you caught Rhett looking at you with a crooked smile.

“What?” you asked.

“You clean up nice,” he said simply, voice low. “Real nice."

Your stomach flipped. “Thanks. You…you look good too.”

“Good?” He smirked, leaning closer over the table. “Darlin’, you’re undersellin’ me. I’m the best damn thing in this room.”

You snorted and tossed your napkin at him, which he caught easily. “Cocky much?”

“Only for you,” he said, eyes glinting in the candlelight.

The food came out steaming and perfect, and Rhett gave his plate a look like it had personally offended him.

“They cut this steak up all fancy,” he said, picking up his fork. “A man can’t even tell which way’s the grain.”

“Don’t overthink it,” you teased, slicing your own dinner. “Just eat.”

He gave you a mock glare, then took a bite and groaned under his breath. “Alright, fine. Worth the tie. Almost.”

You grinned. “I told you this was a good idea.”

“You drag me to a place where I gotta wear a noose around my neck and call that a good idea?” His voice was playful, eyes warm even as he tugged at the tie again.

“Mm-hmm.” You took a slow sip of wine and gave him a look over the rim of your glass. “Because you look ridiculously good in that suit, and I like having you all to myself.”

That made him stop chewing for a second. His ears went pink, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Darlin’, you keep talkin’ like that and I’ll forget we’re in public.”

You nearly choked on your wine. “Rhett—”

“What?” He leaned in a little, smirking. “A man likes hearin’ he looks good for his girl.”

You set your glass down, shaking your head but smiling so wide your cheeks hurt. “You’re impossible.”

“Damn right,” he said easily, taking another bite, but his eyes never left yours.

You started telling him a story—something funny that happened at work, complete with gestures—but midway through your sentence, Rhett’s attention started to shift.

His gaze flicked away from your eyes, then…lower. Downward.

Your words slowed. “So then I—” You stopped. His blue eyes were locked somewhere around your neckline. “Rhett?”

He didn’t answer, just leaned back a little in his chair, brow furrowed like he was tracking something important.

“Rhett.” You waved a hand in front of his face. “Hey.”

Still nothing. He lifted one finger, signaling you to wait, and kept staring—right at your chest, or so it seemed.

You crossed your arms over your dress, eyebrows up. “Seriously?”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he blinked and leaned forward again. “Hold on.” His voice was low, secretive.

“I’m gonna need a real good explanation,” you muttered.

Rhett tilted his head slightly toward the table behind him. “Lady back there’s tellin’ her friend how the garden contest a few weeks back wasn’t fair.”

You blinked. “…What?”

He smirked at your confusion. “Turns out somebody cheated. Bought roses from outta town and passed ’em off as their own.”

For a second, you just stared at him. Then you burst out laughing, covering your mouth with your napkin. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Dead serious.” He looked smug now, settling back in his chair like he was proud of himself.

You leaned forward, lowering your voice. “What’s the punishment for performance-enhancing fertilizer?”

His mouth twitched. “Lifetime ban from the fair, probably. Maybe some shame at church.”

You were laughing so hard your eyes watered. “You are so invested in this right now.”

He grinned, leaning closer until his shoulder brushed yours across the tiny table. “Only when I can share it with you, darlin’.”

You both lingered after finishing your plates, Rhett still stealing glances toward the table behind him like he was watching the finale of a TV show.

“You’re not even listening to me,” you teased, sipping the last of your wine.

“I’m multitaskin’,” he said with a straight face.

“Oh really?” You tilted your head. “What else did they say?”

He gave you a little grin. “Apparently the lady who won last year? Her pie crusts were store-bought.”

You gasped dramatically. “No.”

“Yes.” He nodded solemnly. “Whole thing’s a conspiracy, darlin’.”

You laughed until your cheeks hurt, the sound mingling with the low hum of voices and clinking glasses around you. Eventually, Rhett reached across the table and caught your hand, rough fingers curling gently around yours.

“Alright,” he said quietly, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Let’s get you home before you start a gossip column.”

“You’d read it,” you shot back.

“Damn right I would,” he said with a grin, standing and pulling out your chair like a gentleman—albeit a cowboy one who still tugged at his tie like it was strangling him.

You slipped your arm through his as you walked out into the cool night air. The quiet hum of summer crickets filled the space between you, and for a moment, everything felt simple. Easy.

As soon as you reached the truck, Rhett let out a low, dramatic groan and yanked the tie loose with a swift tug. “Sweet mercy,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders like a man freed from shackles.

You couldn’t help it—you doubled over laughing, clutching his arm for balance. “You’re so dramatic.”

He looked down at you, grinning wide and boyish. “Dramatic? I’ve been sufferin’ all night for you, darlin’.”

“And you looked good doing it,” you teased, sliding into the passenger seat as he opened the door for you.

“Mm-hmm,” he said, smirk tugging at his mouth as he rounded the hood. “You owe me for that one.”

“Do I?” you asked, buckling in as he climbed behind the wheel.

“Oh yeah,” he said, turning the key. “Big time.”

The truck rumbled down the quiet country roads, headlights cutting soft paths through the dark. Rhett kept one hand on the wheel, but his other rested loosely on his thigh, just far enough from you to be tantalizing.

You watched him steal glances at you—blue eyes flicking sideways, catching your smile, then quickly looking back to the road.

“Eyes on the road, cowboy,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

He smirked without taking his eyes off the road. “Always, darlin’. Always.” Yet his hand twitched toward yours, like gravity kept pulling him closer.

So you reached out, letting your fingers brush his. His thumb came up automatically, rubbing gentle circles over the back of your hand.

“Mm,” he murmured, almost to himself, and squeezed lightly.

You smiled, curling your fingers around his. “That’s better.”

He glanced down at your hands, then back at you, letting a small, pleased grin spread over his face. The quiet between you wasn’t awkward—it was warm, like shared laughter without speaking.

Every once in a while, he’d brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear with the back of his fingers, eyes soft, careful. You leaned slightly toward him, heart picking up pace with every glance and touch.

He hummed against your shoulder at one point, low and contented, and your lips curved without thought. That simple sound, that small contact, made your chest tighten in the best way.

No words were needed. Not yet.

The front door clicked shut behind you both, the faint smell of Rhett’s cologne mingling with the soft warmth of your kitchen. He started to speak, probably a comment about the tie or the night, but you didn’t wait.

Your hands shot for the loosened tie, tugging him toward you. He stumbled forward, caught himself on the counter, and laughed—short and surprised—before your lips met his.

The kiss was slow at first, gentle, like testing the water. Rhett leaned fully into you, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His hands traveled slowly, sliding over your back, settling on your hips, squeezing just enough to make you shiver.

Your fingers threaded into his hair, tugging lightly as his hands wandered lower, brushing over your lower back and grazing your butt. The motion was bold but tender, teasing rather than demanding, a conversation of touch without words.

You let out a soft hum, a sound that made him groan into the kiss. Your bodies swayed slightly, balancing between careful restraint and full abandon. You tilted your head, lips parting slightly, letting him deepen the kiss.

There were no words, only the quiet scrape of boots against the tile, the heat of proximity, and the occasional low chuckle or breathless sigh. Every brush of fingers, every press of lips, was an unspoken exchange: you two, alone, enjoying the moment.

Eventually, you both broke apart slightly, foreheads resting together, breaths heavy but calm. Rhett’s hand lingered on your hip, yours still tangled in his hair.

A slow smile spread across your lips, mirrored by his.

“Think you survived the tie okay?” you asked breathlessly, finally breaking the silence.

Rhett’s grin was lazy, teasing, eyes still dark with warmth. “Barely. Pretty sure the only reason I didn’t rip it off was you starin’ at me like that.”

You laughed softly, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw before pulling back a step.

The night felt complete: playful, tender, intimate, and unmistakably yours.

-more of my writings here-

#fan fic

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