Page 108 of Wild Love
“Aye, aye, Captain!” My dad salutes me and I go back to glaring at him. “Any further directives?”
“Yes, Dad. She likes music, but please don’t spend the entire time talking about your washed-up band. No one enjoys that as much as you do.”
He chuckles, pinching my cheek like he did when I was a boy and forcing me to turn away while tamping down asmile. “You’re a mouthy little shithead, you know that?” he adds, breezing past me. And only now do I notice he has a guitar case in hand.
My mom passes next, patting me on the chest. “It’s adorable to see you so paternal. Whatever role you plan to play in her life, she’s lucky to have you.”
I turn and watch my parents waltz into my house, marveling at the updates and discussing their favorite touches. They don’t notice Cora observing them from the landing on the stairs. I can see her clearly—peering from around the corner. Our eyes meet and she gives me a tentative smile. A subtle tilt of her head.
I wink back at her, tipping my chin toward my parents.
Which is all it takes for her to come all the way downstairs and bravely announce herself. “Hi, I’m Cora.”
They both turn to take her in and much like Willa, they stop for a moment, eyes wide, mouths dropped open. I guess we do kind of look like each other.
“Hi, Cora. I’m Gemma,” my mom rushes out, stepping closer with a friendly smile.
“And I’m?—”
“Ford Grant Senior. Guitarist from Full Stop.”
His lips twitch as Cora’s eyes drop to the guitar case at his side.
“You still know how to play that?” I cover my mouth with my fist to keep from laughing.
He scoffs at her question. “Of course. But do you?”
Her eyes go comically wide as she shakes her head. I close the door and walk into the open living space to stand near my dad.
“Thought it might be fun to show you. Taught Willa myself too.”
“You’re going to letmeplayyourguitar?”
He shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Why not?”
“I just… that feels like it belongs in a museum or something.”
I lean close, give him a nudge with my elbow and stage whisper, “She means because you’re old.”
“No,” Cora says almost breathlessly. “I mean because that guitar is iconic.”
Dad turns an obnoxiously pleased smirk in my direction. “Ah, Cora. You and I are going to get along famously. I bet even my World’s Best Grandpa T-shirt won’t lose me cool points.”
A starstruck laugh bubbles up from her throat as my dad pats her on the back and leads her into the living room.
That expression doesn’t leave her face all day long. In fact, it only intensifies when she learns a simple tune and my dad gifts her a pick.
I wish Rosie were here to see her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ROSIE
The first thingI did when Ford took his parents over to his house was pee. And then proceeded to laugh hysterically into my palms while sitting on the toilet.
Only me.
Only Rosalie-the-hot-mess would get railed by her life long frenemy and new boss and then get walked in on by his parents.
