Page 111 of Wild Love
Not wanting to fall asleep and spill red wine all over myself, I push to stand and walk down the slope toward the lake. Toward the dock. It’s my favorite place to sit.
Morning tea.
Peaceful lunch.
Bedtime wine.
It faces due west, which means it’s a spectacular place to sit at night. It’s chillier down by the water too, something I clearly need to stay awake right now.
I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders and stare out at the inky water as I mull over the day’s events. The boards shake before I ever hear Ford’s approach.
He crouches behind me, but I don’t turn to look at him. I keep staring out at the other side of the lake, now dotted with lights from a home opposite mine.
I swear I can feel his annoyance even though I haven’t turned around.
I smile into the cool night.
His hand wraps around my ponytail, and he gives it a gentle tug, pulling my head back. Forcing me to look into his eyes, their green almost black in the darkness.
In the past, this has always felt playful. Flirtatious even. But tonight, it makes my stomach flip and my blood pump faster. It’s downright commanding.
“Are you ignoring me, Rosalie?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I like fighting with you.”
His head quirks in an almost feline way. A shiver races down my spine. It reminds me of the look he gave me earlier, right before he flipped me over and fucked me on his desk, just like I wanted him to.
“Do we fight, or do we flirt?”
I wink at him, my head still tilted back. “With us, I think they’re the same thing.”
He shakes his head like I irritate him. But I know better. Now I know he’s always put on an act when it comes to me. To us.
And the kiss he bends down to press against my mouth all but confirms that.
When his fingers soften on my hair, he sits beside me, our bodies pressed tightly side by side. Not at all like the night I told him he would have to move closer to share my chips.
I hold my glass over to him, and he takes a deep swig.
“Tonight was a fun night,” I say, cutting the silence. “Cora is so…” I trail off, shaking my head. I can’t quite put into words what she is to me. So much like her dad that it hurts, so pure, so self-aware, so awake. I don’t know her parents at all, but I know they raised a good one under less-than-ideal circumstances.
“Cool,” Ford provides, taking another sip.
“Yeah. She’s really cool.”
“I’m gonna be sad when she goes back to her mom.”
I go still. I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk about their trip since we were… otherwise engaged.
“You think she’ll go back?”
He gives a firm nod. “She’s a good mom. A good person. Good people get clinically depressed. She’ll recover, and I’d never want to interfere with that. Cora belongs with her.”
I drop my head to his shoulder. “I think Cora will always be in our lives now, in some way. And if her mom is as good as you say, she wouldn’t keep her from you. Not after the way you’ve been there for them.”
