Page 35 of Untamed

The girl reaches for the handle, but Cash beats her to it and pulls open the door. Rough cowboys never let women touch door handles.

15

ROSIE

“Oh shit, sorry.” I freeze in place. “I, uh … I didn’t know anyone was in here.” I word-vomit all over my shoes when I see the knockout blonde standing in Holden’s oversize bathroom. She’s wrapped in a towel, one of the ones I washed, folded, and put away last week.

Her long hair is wet, spilling over her delicate shoulders, sending buckets of molten lava all over my sense of self-worth and giving me stupid, trivial thoughts, like, Do I have naturally wavy hair that lies perfectly over my chest like that after a hot shower?

“Who are you?” she asks. Her tone is more curious than accusatory, but I feel my hackles rise just the same.

The words the housekeeper are on the tip of my tongue, but for some reason, they taste like bile, so I shove them back.

“I’m Dolly’s best friend, Rosie.”

“Hmm,” she says, tilting her head to the side. “And who is Dolly?”

I blink at her. “Um, she’s Holden’s sister.”

“Ah, so this is like a family-lives-off-of-him situation.” She shakes her head, smirking.

Bitch, what?

“Um, more like a family-business situation.”

“But you’re not family,” she states.

“I don’t live here. I’m a friend.”

A friend who’s about two seconds away from pulling that pretty blond hair right out of your scalp.

Okay, chill. Why are you letting this girl get to your head like this?

She crosses her arms over the towel. “Then, why are you sneaking around Holden’s room like a criminal?”

My eyebrows shoot up as I physically take a step back from her. “I think I could very well ask you the same question. Did he actually invite you to stay the night?”

She quickly glances away before squaring her shoulders. “That seems like none of your business.”

“I take that as a no.”

You’re being a bitch for no reason. Why do you care who Holden fucks on his ranch?

She exhales deeply. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Where’s Holden?”

I shrug, trying to force my muscles to relax. “Probably out mending a fence or riding a horse, bull, or an ATV. He’s a rancher. They get up early and stay out working late.”

Thankfully, I’m not currently holding the bathroom caddy full of cleaners, or she’d know I’m in here to clean. I pick at my nail beds, debating the source of the strange sensation of jealousy that’s raging inside of me.

Another problem for another day.

“That surprises me with how much he drank last night. I’d be in bed all day after that much whiskey,” she muses.

I blink up at her, biting my lip. She seems like a decent person. I’m irrational for being so rattled about finding a girl in his room.

And she’s blond, of course. Probably the first of many.

My stomach rolls over at the thought.

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