Page 10 of Wild Eyes
“I’ll wait. I’ll stay anywhere. Pitch me a tent. I don’t care.” What I’m not short on is determination.
He looks me up and down now, and a flicker of compassion appears on his handsome face. No doubt he heard the desperation in my voice. And he’s probably pitying me after all the brutal headlines lately. “Why don’t you come in and we’ll see what we can work out? There are only a couple of hotels in town, and I doubt they have availability for a longer stay in the middle of the tourist season.”
Rosalie wrinkles her nose and says “tourists” like it’s a dirty word. “Good news is they only flock here for July and August. Come on.” She ushers me inside. “Let’s get you sorted.”
“Thank you.” I practically sigh the words as I hit her with a grateful smile and follow Ford into the office space.
The building is just as beautiful on the inside—fresh and rustic all at once. Wood beams line the vaulted ceiling, complemented by wide wooden floorboards with a strange mess of paint on them that matches the muted blue on the walls. There are two desks, set apart but facing each other, as well as a cozy sitting area with massive couches and a vinyl library that resembles a record store.
But the sliding glass doors facing the lake steal the show, adding a modern touch to the barnlike space. They open onto a sprawling deck surrounded by lush gardens and topped with wicker furniture.
“I’ll buy a bed and just stay here,” I blurt to a chorus of chuckles. “This place is incredible.”
“Glad you like it,” Ford says as he leans back against a desk and crosses his arms.
I glance at him, and it’s like I can see his brain working behind those green eyes. He bleeds intelligence—and it’s the intimidating kind.
Rosalie bumps her shoulder against mine. “Sorry,” she whispers, like she’s read my mind. “He’s not really the warm and fuzzy type.”
I shoot her a smile. “That’s okay, I’ll take not warm and fuzzy over fake any day.”
She claps her hands once like she’s amused. “Well, the two of you should get along famously.”
As she stands, hands on her hips, looking back and forth between Ford and me, I find myself extra thankful for her presence. Without her, this might have been even more awkward.
“Ford, what’s going on upstairs?” she asks.
“I’m just weighing options.”
“You look like you’re plotting a murder.”
His eyes narrow at Rosalie, and I don’t know what they are to each other, but it’s abundantly clear they’re more than just coworkers. Their tension is off the charts. I feel like I’m intruding just by standing in their presence.
He waves her off. “No, I’ll save that for when Skylar wants to tell me who she’s running from.”
I start, but Rosalie just snorts at his observation. “He’s extremely protective of the people around him,” she whispers to me. “Borderline vengeful, really.”
“You could stay at our house until one of the cottages is ready,” he muses, scrubbing at his stubble and staring at the floor. “Do you need time to work on songs? We could start hammering out some details. Maybe we can meet on Monday and work on a timeline. Work out out a bit of a plan?”
Stay at their house?
“Oh, I would never impose like that,” I say. Inside, I’m floored that this person I barely know would offer me a room in his house. I don’t want to be indebted to him beyond allowing me to crash here early. “But a meeting on Monday sounds perfect.”
“I don’t think the office would work since Rosie and I…”
Is he for real? What’s next? Is he going to give me the shirt off his back?
“That part about living in the office was a joke,” I say. “A compliment.”
I’m suddenly feeling the weight of my imposition, realizing what a tremendous burden it must be for them to have me show up here unannounced. I should have thought before I jumped.
My actions were self-centered. Self-serving. Everyone has bad breakups.
“You know what? I’ll head back. I’m so sorry. This was…beyond desperate.” I start to spiral. My breathing quickens as the walls tilt closer, and I press a hand to my chest and cover with a nervous laugh. “Just plain rude.”
It’s the gentle way the woman beside me cups my elbow and steps in front of me that takes some of the weight away. “Hey, don’t stress about it. We’re laid-back out here.” She peeks over her shoulder at Ford before adding, “And I know a place you can stay. My brother has a bunkhouse.”
“Rosie, that place is a dump.”
