Page 72 of Wild Love
“You kissed me anyway.” I lift a hand to my lips and dust a finger over them. I swear I can still feel him there.
“I did.”
“Are you sorry now?”
The silence between us is deafening. His jaw pops as his molars grind. And then, “No.”
But he doesn’t stay with me for long—he turns and starts walking away.
“Where are you going?”
“To apologize to Fuckboy,” he calls back over his shoulder.
“Why? I thought you weren’t sorry?”
He pauses, his hand pressed against the corner of the building, considering. His eyes slice back to mine, almost violently. My entire body tingles. “Let’s call it my condolences then, because any asshole dumb enough to blow it with you when they’ve got you free and clear is having a bad fucking day.”
“Are you going to come back after?”
Ugh. I hate asking that out loud. I sounddesperateand so unlike myself.
Ford drops my gaze now, as if there’s something terribly interesting about his boots. “That’s the thing, Rosie. I’ve gone and made you my employee, and I know you need this job. There is nothing free and clear about us.”
Then his fingers rap against the vinyl and he’s gone.
Leaving me more confused about him than ever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
FORD
I hearWilla before I see her. Heavy footsteps and a loud yawn precede her entry into the kitchen. My sister is not a morning person.
“Fuck, this place is really nice,” she says as she peers around the kitchen. I can’t help but feel a spark of pride. Before it was rough, a little run-down. Now it’s all windows opening out to the lake, wide floorboards, wood-beam ceilings, and industrial light fixtures.
“It looks like a total dump from outside,” she adds from behind her fist as she covers another yawn. “But that guest bed is to die for.”
I scoff and shake my head while pointing her toward a full pot of coffee. “It doesn’t look like a dump. I wanted to keep the reclaimed wood exterior.”
She waggles her eyebrows at me. “Bet that was more expensive than just re-siding it.”
All I give her back is an eye roll. Itwasmore expensive. But those weather-worn vertical boards carried far too much character—far too many stories—to just tear down or cover up.
I like that the house is unassuming. I like that it feels like it belongs nestled in the wilderness of the Rockies.
“Can you leave me this place in your will? I love it. And we both know I’m going to live forever. I have too much energy to die.” She approaches the long kitchen island with a mischievous grin, sliding up to its black stone counter. “You, on the other hand…”
“Nice, Wils. But I’m not dying.” Though I feel like I might be after pulling an all-nighter.
She regards me over the rim of her coffee cup, taking a thoughtful sip. “No, but I’ll put money on West killing you with his bare hands if he finds out you were making out with his baby sister last night.”
Fuck.Did she see us?
I stare at Willa, willing my face to give nothing away. “Rosie is a friend and employee. Don’t go making up stories.”
“Oh yeah? Is pushing her up against a wall and shoving your tongue down her throat how you check your emails?
Or was there a really important quote from a subcontractor hidden in there?”
