Page 147 of Wild Love
She smiles, and her lightly wrinkled skin bunches as she does. “I want her to have a vibrant, healthy, happy male role model in her life. I want her to have friends. And family. I want her to havethis. This place—it’s been so good for her in the wake of everything she’s lived through. I see how different she is here, the way she’s re-created herself. Grown into herself.”
With a wave, she gestures around the house, eyes bright.
“I’m thinking…” She trails off, nibbling at her bottom lip as two men in leotards flop around on each other in a big square ring. “I’m thinking a change of scenery might help me re-create myself a little bit too.”
I go still, glancing down at her. I suspect I know what she’s hinting at, but I don’t want to jump to any conclusions or make any assumptions.
“But I don’t want to do something that infringes on your freedom or your plans. I don’t?—”
“I would love to have you both here.” God, I can barely get the words out without sounding choked up.
Marilyn nods once, firmly.
“I can buy a house for you?—”
Now she rolls her eyes at me, a little spark that reminds me of Cora. “Don’t insult me. I’ll buy my own damn house. You can track me down a Realtor.”
My lips press together as I fight to stifle a smile.
“Hey, can we go out on the boat?” Cora calls out.
“Of course,” is my instant reply.
But then she turns back to her friends and says, “Who wants to go boating? My dad says he’ll take us!”
And she says it like it’s the most casual thing in the world.My dad. We don’t have a conversation or get all mushy about it—it’s not her style. She’s practical, and she’s settling into a new phase of life like Marilyn just said. I don’t think she’s replacing her dad—and I wouldn’t want her to—but it’s nice to feel like she might be open to adding another.
I stare at her for a few beats, soaking the moment in, then clear my throat. Rosie’s watery eyes meet mine from across the room, and I smile back at her as I say, “I’ll get the tubes hooked up. You guys get changed.”
Then I take my daughter and her friends tubing for the very first time.
Once the end-of-the-year party has wrappedup, Rosie leads me back to the office. Her fingers link with mine, our soft footsteps on the grass turning to dull thuds on the wooden deck.
“You know we don’t work on Sundays,” I grumble. Because where I really want to go with Rosie is to bed.
She grins back at me over her shoulder, chin brushing over the thin spaghetti strap of her rose-pink sundress. Her hair falls in loose waves and flies out like a fringe as she spins on the spot. The look on her face is all trouble and whimsy andI’m gonna be a brat now.
It’s a look I know well.
A look I’ve come to love.
And as she basks in the sun’s warm rays, framed by the mountains behind her and a bed of brown-eyed Susans at her side, I’m struck by the overwhelming need to kiss her.
I stop in my tracks and tug her toward me. Her hand lands on my chest and I cover it with my own, wrapping the other around her body and gripping the back of her neck.
“That fucking look, Rosalie,” I grumble, searching her face.
Her eyes are twinkling, and her smile is soft. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
It’s with a frustrated groan and zero restraint that I drop my mouth to hers and kiss her. It’s thrilling and consuming and what I’ve always dreamed of.
Kissing Rosalie Belmont whenever and wherever I want.
She whimpers into my mouth as I deepen the kiss, fingers gripping tightly at my shirt before she pulls back.
“Come on.” Her voice is breathless. “I want to show you this. I think you’re going to love it.”
“Is it you naked and bent over my desk?”
