Page 78 of Wild Love
Rosie,
Are you joining the dark side? I feel that if you practiced enough, you could probably Force grip me and choke me out with that scowl.
Have a happy day!
Sith Lord Ford Grant
CEO and Head Dick at Rose Hill Records
I see the email, but I don’t respond. I cross my legs and lean back, foot bobbing, as I pretend to act casual.
“Who is your plus one?”
I thought I’d sound curious and unaffected. That’s how the sentence sounded in my head. But I sound petty and accusatory, and he must hear it because his head snaps up in my direction. His slightly slanted green eyes make my chest ache, while the blush on his cheeks makes me want to trail my fingernails through his rugged stubble again. His cable-knit sweater with a plaid collar sticking out from underneath is casual-mountain-man sexy, not at all stuffy billionaire, and I can’t even deny how fucking hot he is—which annoys me even more.
He took me from oblivious to acutely aware and then he left me hanging. So right now, I hate Ford Grant more than ever.
“What?” He appears suitably confused.
“To that event in Emerald Lake? Who are you taking?” He blinks, and I stare. The music in the background isthe only sound, and the air between us bubbles like boiling water on a stove.
Then he stands, without a word, and rounds his desk. All swagger as he approaches me.
He has an obnoxiously smug expression on his face when he props his hip against my desk and says, “You.”
My foot stops bobbing. He says the word so plainly that it almost doesn’t make sense to me. Doesn’t quite register.
His brow furrows and his eyes drop to my lips. It fucking kills me when he looks at my lips now because I know what he can do to them—to me.
“Me?”
His head tilts, and his gaze moves over my entire body. Like he’s putting the puzzle together, reading my body language. Picking up every little clue.
This time when he talks, his voice is earnest, not biting. “Yeah, Rosie. I can’t go to an event like that without my Dick Manager.”
I bite at my bottom lip. My eyes sting a little, and I know it’s not him or his words. I know my emotions are running amok because I’m one day away from my period starting, according to my tracker. I know he said nothing especially sweet, but the relief I feel is strong enough that I need space.
“Cool.” I nod firmly, stand up, and head toward the door like the emotional coward I am. “Forgot my…” I forgot absolutely nothing, but I’m looking for an escape. “Sweater at my place. Be right back.”
His brow furrows again as I turn and walk through the sliding barn doors. The ones that are wide open, because it’swarm out today. I can hear the concern in his voice when he says, “I’ll go grab lunch. Want anything?”
“Sure, whatever looks good,” I call back, hustling off the front deck.
I take my time walking back to my place. I even sit at the end of the dock for a while, just simmering in all my feelings. Then I take a Midol, grab a completely unnecessary sweater, and head back to the office. Primed and ready for a fight.
But when I get back to my desk, there’s no Ford to be seen. However, there is a tin takeout container of chicken wings on my desk with an array of sauces on the side.
No drumsticks. All wings.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
FORD
I can hearthe phone ringing from outside the office.
And when I walk in, my gaze lands on Rosie as she lifts the receiver and says, “Good morning, Ford Grant Junior’s office.”
She looks me right in the eye as she does it.
