Page 24 of Wild Love
“Doyouhave a boyfriend?”
She scowls at me.
“What? It’s not like I’m going to run and tell your dad about it—or sorry, Ford. Fuck, sorry. What are we calling him?”
“Boss?”
I snort. She’s funny. “Personally, I’m partial to Junior.”
“I heard he really doesn’t like that.”
I lean close and give her a conspiratorial wink. “Exactly.”
Her eyes search my face like she’s not sure what to think of me. I’m positive I don’t give off the maternal vibe she’s probably used to from older women. I’m too much of a messfor that right now. And I’m too old to be her sister. Maybe more like a cool aunt. One who appreciates not having sticky freezie juice hands all over her.
Cora’s company is a breath of fresh air, and I’m not sure I’m ready to leave it yet. I’m also not above admitting she might make what I’m about to do next a little less tense.
“Hey, wanna come to my parents’ house with me instead of watching Junior storm around and clean up a building he could easily pay someone to clean up for him?”
She smirks, turning to look out the window. “Sure. Greta and Andy seem cool.”
“Oh, you’ve met them?”
“Briefly. Once. They definitely give off grandparent vibes.”
“Probably because that’s what they are.”
She gives me a sour glance, and my lips twitch. Let’s hope they continue to give off sweet grandparent vibes when they find out Rosie “the good girl” went off the rails and blew her chance at the job, the house, the guy, and the two-point-five kids in one fell swoop.
I hate letting people down.
Anxiety churns in my gut, but I force a thin smile in Cora’s direction. “Go tell Ford so he doesn’t worry about you. I’ll wait.”
Then she’s bounding out of the car, a little skip in her step that has her backpack bouncing. It makes her seem younger than the scowls and mouthiness would imply. I smile after her, hoping I get to pick her up from school more often.
Within moments, she’s back.
With Ford in tow.
She doesn’t spare him a backward glance, though, as she hurries back toward the car and into the front passenger seat.
“Why is he here?”
She shrugs. “Said he wanted to come with us.”
Ford draws up short, watching her buckle up with a look of confusion on his handsome face. His head turns slowly as he eyes the back seat, and I can barely keep from bursting out laughing. I doubt he remembers the last time he sat his fancy ass in the back of anything that wasn’t equipped with a privacy divider and a bucket of ice.
I hit the button to drop the back passenger window and call out, “Want me to come hold the door open for you, Junior?”
The way his head tilts. The way his arms cross. The way his eyes slice to mine from over the top of Cora’s headrest. It all drips with disdain.
And yet, I smile.
Without another word, Ford steps forward and tugs the back door open. When he folds his tall frame into the back seat, Ialmostfeel bad. My Impreza hatchback is practical and fun to drive, but it’s not made for men of his stature to ride comfortably in the back seat.
“Don’t worry, sir. It’s not far. And if you’re feeling peckish, I suspect I’ve left a partially melted Clif Bar in the pocket behind that seat.”
He continues to give me his best bitchy look through the rearview mirror while Cora plays Pokémon GO on her phone, trying to pretend she doesn’t think I’m funny.
