Page 18 of Roses for Rosie

“I hate to break it to you, but I have been doing exactly that for years.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” Adam says as he relieves me of the burden of my father’s weight.

Tears spring to my eyes. I’m good at dealing with things on my own. Really good. I’m as strong and self-sufficient as anyone I know. I can deal with this on my own, but maybe I don’t have to. Accepting a little help from this strong, sexy, surprising man actually sounds kind of amazing.

Chapter 10

Adam

My blood is boiling. I can’t believe Rosie’s father treats her that way. I can’t believe she lets him behave like that. When I was an ass to her, she smacked me down and put me in my place. She didn’t even hesitate to stand up to me. Giving me the dressing down I deserved could have lost her the job she loves but she did it anyway.

I’m not only an author and an author who she was working with professionally at the moment, but also the most popular author in town. If the crowd gathered in the bookstore tonight is any indication of my local celebrity, my book is bringing in a handsome chunk of change for Nooks and Books. Pissing me off is not a good career move if you are in the book selling industry.

That didn’t stop her for a second though. Once she got her hackles up, she was off to the races. She is not a woman to put up with bullshit.

But with her father she seems different. She’s smaller, like she’s trying not to be noticed. She’s more pliant, changing herself to suit his whims. She’s scared, clearly terrified that one day her father is going to go too far and hurt someone. Maybe hurt her.

“Are you OK?” I ask her as I manhandle her father’s limp form into the backseat of my car.

“Fine,” she mumbles.

“I saw the way he grabbed your arm. That had to hurt.”

“It’s OK really.”

“Just because you are used to it doesn’t make it OK.”

Her eyes widen. I hit a little too close to home with that one.

I close the car door and slide into the driver’s seat. Rosie shuts the passenger side door quietly and buckles her seatbelt looking straight ahead. I put my hand to the key, ready to start the engine, but let it fall again before I do. I turn in my seat to study her. She must feel me looking at her, but she determinedly looks the other way.

She clearly doesn’t want to talk right now. I wrestle with myself. Should I give her space or should I push her? As much as she might want me to, I can’t let this go.

“Nobody should treat you like that.”

“Please just drop it,” she replies, her tone tired, lifeless.

“You deserve better.”

“We don’t always get what we deserve or haven’t you heard? Life isn’t fair.”

“But you can’t just let him…”

“I can do whatever the hell I want to do. Are you going to drive or should I haul him out of your fancy ass car and drag him home myself?”

“I’m driving, OK? I’m driving.”

I start the car and back out of my parking space, heading toward the street.

“Which way?”

“Right,” she answers, curtly.

“Look I didn’t mean to pry,” I try again.

“Then back off.”

“I can’t.”

---