Page 107 of Wild Love
My mom’s hair is still bright red, just like Willa’s, though I suspect she gets a little help in that department these days. It’s chopped at her chin but styled a little wild and wavy. She’stall and lean, like she always has been. And is wearing an— admittedly—really cool jean jacket with floral embroidery up the sleeve.
She’s also wearing a smirk.
“Son, the fuck you doing?” My dad says it with a deep chuckle, head pivoting to take it all in.
I shoot him a temperamental glare because I’m having a hard time believing that the last thirty minutes actually happened.
But not Rosie.
Rosie pats my dad on the shoulder and renders a light laugh. “You showed up on the heels of a temper tantrum.”
Oh, I’m going to kill her.
My dad’s brows furrow, and Rosie pins me with a wink. “You know how billionaires are. Something doesn’t go their way, and suddenly they’re pitching a fit. Stomping around. Breaking shit.”
My dad laughs at that, hugging Rosie to his side. “You’re a firecracker, Rosalie. I’ve missed ya.”
But it’s my mom who’s staring at me with that knowing smirk on her face and a slightly arched brow. Because my mom knows I’ll stew and pout and snipe when I’m pissed off, but not break shit. That’s a Willa move. “How fortunate that Rosie knows how to handle Ford’s newfound temper.”
My dad is still chuckling good-naturedly when he steps forward to wrap me in a hug. And as I look over his shoulder at Rosie, my mom bumps the little vixen’s shoulder with her own and quietly says, “Peeing afterward helps prevent infection.”
And now I smile, because Rosie, who thought the tantrum joke was real fucking funny, is now staring at me.
Red as a beet.
When the doorbell rings at three o’clock sharp, I know my parents mean business. I told them I needed to get Cora from school and give her a heads-up they were here. I told them we wouldn’t be home until three and that I’d call them.
I swing the door open, and sure enough, there stand my parents. I hold the frame in one hand and the door in the other, blocking them from waltzing in like they own the place.
“I told you I’d call you.”
My dad scoffs. “You don’t have a great track record in that department these days.”
“Well, Dad, your track record for going overboard is still firmly intact, so I guess we’re both consistent.”
His brows drop low and my mom presses her lips together to stifle a laugh. She always gets a kick out of watching the two Fords butt heads.
“Kid, you have no idea. I’ve got my World’s Best Grandpa T-shirt on under this button down.”
“You do not.”
“I do.” He grins and lifts his shirt to unveil the tee that Willa bought him when her daughter was born.
“I told him he was coming on a little strong and needed to cover it up until we got a feel for Cora.”
My gaze bounces between my parents. I can feel theexcited energy wafting off of them. And truth be told, I’m not sure how Cora will react to their presence—to their enthusiasm. They’re a lot to take in sometimes. I’ve overheard her conversation with her mom. They’re calm and mature, and there’s no mention of peeing after sex or only fucking guys who read.
“Okay, listen. We need to lay down some ground rules first.” I tug the door closer in behind me and watch my mom’s eyes widen as my dad’s roll.
“She has a mom, and she has a dad. Just because they’re not here doesn’t mean you can barge in and act like we’re some sort of replacement family. If she wants to call you by your first names, deal with it.”
My dad nods and my mom smiles.
“I also don’t want to hear a single word about that time a woman made up a paternity story to scam you. It’s in the past and has no bearing on Cora. Talking about that will just make her uncomfortable.”
I’m met with murmured responses of “Yes” and “Of course.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “And just… be cool. Okay?”
