Page 12 of Wild Love
We never talked about that night. There wasn’t much to say. My older brother’s best friend, who antagonized me at every turn, witnessed my total meltdown over a guy who peaked in grade 10 before dropping me off at my parents’ house without another word.
But. I know he saw the gutted look in my eye that night—know he stared just a little too long. And I know if I meet his gaze now, he’ll see it again.
“Auntie Rosie!”
Thank you, Lord. The voice of an angel. Saved by hell on wheels with blond pigtails. “Emmy!”
She shoves past Ford and launches herself at me withenough force to knock the wind from my lungs a second time along with one fat tear from my eye. I quickly swipe it away. But over Emmy’s shoulder, I catch sight of Ford glaring at the traitorous tear’s path like it personally wronged him somehow.
I roll my eyes at him and turn all my attention to the little girl in my arms. Warm and wiggly. “Dang, girl, knock it off with all this growing business.” I heft her up with a grunt. “Soon I won’t be strong enough to lift you.”
She cackles and lands a sticky kiss on my cheek. I try not to cringe. I love my niece, but I draw the line at messy faces and runny noses. Makes me want to hose them off the way West did me.
Still waiting for that maternal gene to kick in, I guess.
“What are you doing here?” Emmy pushes back to look at me, one pudgy,stickypalm on each of my cheeks.
“That’s my question too,” my brother announces, startling me as he wanders up from behind Ford.
I squeeze Emmy tighter. I’m not above using a six-year-old as a shield against these two men. “Surprise?” I squeak at my brother with a totally over-the-top grin on my face.
Thankfully, West isn’t one to dig. He’s not big on sharing feelings—unless it’s with his fists—so he smiles and forges ahead until he’s hugging me too, squishing his little girl between us.
“You need to bathe this hellion, West. She’s sticky and smells like orange juice.”
“Orangefreezie,” she corrects solemnly.
“Before dinner?”
“Whoa, whoa, Rosie Posie. You don’t get to show up outta the blue and judge my parenting. This is my week. Mia is always on my ass, so I don’t need you to pile on too.”
I arch a brow. “Maybe Mia is onto something more than your ass?”
Emmy giggles maniacally, clearly amused by us tossing the wordassaround so casually.
Now it’s my brother’s turn to roll his eyes. Their marriage may not have worked, but he and Mia are excellent co-parents, and I admire the hell out of them for that.
West ignores my jab and carries on with his questioning. “You just drive out as a surprise, or you staying for a bit?”
Before I answer, I put Emmy down and watch her tear back into the house, announcing to her brother Oliver that I’m here. My eyes cut to Ford again. Arms crossed and chin dipped low, he’s staring hard enough to unnerve me. “What are you? His bodyguard?”
“Ha!” West barks out a laugh. “I don’t need a bodyguard. And if I did, I wouldn’t hire the World’s Hottest Billionaire.”
My eyes bulge, and I have to press my lips together to keep from laughing. I saw the article—picked it up and even read it—but I don’t want to give Ford the satisfaction of knowing that.
“Ford Grant is abillionaire? Do they mean junior or senior?”
West laughs, but Ford groans and shakes his head. “I’m going back inside. You two assholes have fun out here.”
I watch him walk away, probably a little too closely.
Definitely a little too closely, based on the way mybrother gently punches my shoulder. “You better not be checking him out.”
I let out a playful scoff. “Whatever. It’s not every day you get a clear shot of… what was it? The World’s Hottest Billionaire?” I make sure I say it loud enough that Ford hears me.
West chuckles. “Playing with fire, sis. What would Ryan say?”
My shoulders tighten, and I swallow before turning my eyes back up to my brother’s, the same shade of blue as my own.
