Page 13 of Wild Love
Then I tilt my head from side to side four times.
West nods three times.
And that’s about the entire conversation we’ll have about that.
It’s exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I needed. I’m not ready to decide a single thing about Ryan until I clear my head and can make a rational decision.
“So, dinner?” my brother asks. “Spare room or bunkhouse?”
“Yes, to dinner, and I’ll take the bunkhouse, please.”
He turns and I follow him. Relief floods my system. I knew I could count on West to save me from myself. What I didn’t count on was Ford fucking Grant with his eagle eyes and billion-dollar ass.
CHAPTER FIVE
FORD
“Here,let me show you. I have a plan,” Cora says from where she’s sitting on the couch beside Oliver. She’s showing him how to build a Nether portal or some shit in Minecraft. The terminology is lost on me. He says nothing, as usual, but I can tell by the look on his face that he’s enthralled. Emmy has squeezed herself in on Cora’s other side, crunching on what has to be her third freezie of the day.
Me? I feel like I’m living in a madhouse.
After weeks of getting everything in order, I’m on day one of being Cora’s official kinship placement. My lawyer hates my guts for making her do this, and my financial advisor thinks I’ve lost it. Maybe I have.
I’ve done nothing to get the recording studio up and running, which is making me squirrelly. The never-ending list of things I need to do keeps me up at night. I need flooring, walls, paint, heating, air conditioning, upgradedelectrical, some semblance of curb appeal from the outside. The entire place needs a facelift, and that’s not including the booth itself.
And now Rosie fucking Belmont has waltzed into the scene with her smart mouth and suspiciously watery eyes. And all I want to do is demand to know who hurt her so I can fix it.
Carrying a secret torch for this woman is nothing new, but it’s been a decade. I never expected every teenage feeling to come barreling back in full force the minute I laid eyes on her again. But god, she’s grown up. Her eyes are still the brightest, most impossible shade of blue. Almost crystalline against the golden hue of her skin—and still just as expressive as they used to be. They darken with anger, they twinkle with mirth, and today they swam with emotion. Her hair was always long, but now it’s longer. Layered and wavy, framing her heart-shaped face in a wild tumble. The same dark blond I remember now artfully painted through with strokes of bright gold and the odd pearlescent streak. It’s messy, yet intentional. It suits her.
That’s what I’d thought as I stood there at the front door staring at her.
All it took was one look—one heartbeat—and I was eighteen all over again.
“All right!” West claps his hands behind me, and I start. “What’s for dinner?”
“Freezies!” Emmy shouts back with a fist in the air. She appears borderline feral, and if I’m being honest, she scares me a little bit. She’s a miniature West and raising her is cosmic payback for the shit he put his parents through.
“Absolutely not, you little nut bar. You get vegetables and more vegetables. Everyone else gets…” He trails off as he rifles through the fridge.
Much like my main house, West’s home is a craftsman-style farmhouse. Big baseboards, narrow windows, sort of a cottage feel with all the bedrooms upstairs and a glass-paneled veranda out front. His is yellow, while I had mine stripped down to the original boards and layered with exterior glaze to give it a more rustic feel. Mine is mostly modernized inside; his is a little more out-of-date.
“Well,” West sighs. “We might be ordering a vegetable pizza because Emmy has snacked me straight out of food.”
This is so West, always flying by the seat of his pants. I close my eyes and smile. On the back of my lids I see Rosie and replay the way words failed me as I soaked her in earlier.
And when I open my eyes, I see Rosie too. She’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen, gawking over at the couch. She must have just returned from setting herself up in the bunkhouse, and when I follow her gaze, I realize she’s staring at Cora. And Cora is staring right back.
I’m a dick for not having introduced them yet, but the entire exchange on the front porch threw me off.
“Hey.” Rosie tips her chin at Cora. “I’m Rosie. West’s sister.”
“Hey.” Cora mimics the motion. “I’m Cora, Ford’s daughter.”
I wince. Not because I hate the sound of it. We just haven’t talked about… I don’t know. Titles?
Rosie reels backward as she takes that in, then she turnsher baby blues on me and not-so-subtly whispers, “Wow.Congratulations on finally losing your virginity.”
All I can do is stare at her. We really are right back to where we were as teenagers in a matter of minutes. As in, she’s still funny and beautiful and completely off-limits, and I still feel transported back to the dumbstruck boy who is awkward as hell around her.
