Page 101 of Rosabel and the Billionaire Beast

“Shopping,” I said.

What else would we be doing here?

Wesley laughed and socked me on the arm. “I mean in Arkansas. You visiting for something? Did you come for the Mustang rally?”

Did he not know I was from here?

“I have family here,” I said. “We’re just visiting.”

“We?” Wesley turned to Rosabel and laughed, swatting me on the chest. “I see you finally found sense and gave up on that stupid pact. Is this your wife? I heard about Maddox and that model of his. Even Hawk and what’s her name? Ella. They’re tying the knot here soon. Didn’t know you’d settled down, though.”

My wife. The thought fisted over my heart. He had no idea how badly I wanted her to be mine.

“This is Rosabel,” I said, warding off more of his prattling. “She’s my assis?—”

“Friend,” Rosabel said, offering her hand and cutting me off. “We’re friends.”

I eyed her. This was new.

Except, if I were able to be totally honest, friend wasn’t the term I would have picked.

Wesley took it and shook it before eyeing me. “Friends, huh?”

“Yes,” I said pointedly, trying not to notice the distinct change in what Rosabel introduced herself as.

She’d insisted she was coming with me as my assistant. Nothing more. But saying we were friends? What did that mean?

“What about you?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” Wesley said, backing up a step and lifting his hands as if presenting the shop. “This is my mom’s shop, and I moved in to help her with it.”

“He’s a good boy,” the woman smiling beside him said in that French accent.

“Sweet,” I said.

Crickets could have noticeably chirped in the sustaining silence that followed. I wasn’t going to make small talk. I wasn’t going to imply that I wanted any more interaction with him after this.

I didn’t.

“Good to see you,” I said, backing toward the door to make my intentions clear.

“You, too,” Wesley said. “We should catch up sometime while you’re here.”

Not likely.

Adrian had been the one to keep in touch with the other fraters. Not me.

“Sure,” I said, because what else was I going to say?

I backed up another step, hoping Rosabel noticed and would do the same. She peered at me for a moment before turning back to Wesley.

“Maybe you can help us,” Rosabel said. “We’re looking for a gift for his grandmother.”

I withheld a groan. Could she not see my obvious attempt at escape?

“Sure,” Wesley said, gesturing to his mother. “That’s her area of expertise. I just help fix the hats, keep things stocked, and clean up. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Nice to meet you,” Rosabel said, waving kindly as Wesley returned to approach a new set of customers who entered the shop.

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