Page 107 of Crazy In Love
Vacation time was over. We were heading home, and we’d go back to normal.
I’d be swamped between the flower shop and the renovation. Not to mention it was almost Christmas, and I had a ton of shopping left to do.
We both ate our pasta, and his phone vibrated. He looked down at the screen.
“For fuck’s sake,” he grumped. “There’s a new ‘Taylor Tea’ article out, and apparently, we’re both in it. Rafe is enjoying this far too much.”
“What does it say?” I asked, reaching for the phone.
I read it aloud as he continued eating. “‘Hey there, Roses. The holiday is just around the corner, and the town is bustling with festivities. A bar fight broke out at Booze and Brews this week, and let’s just say that a certain postman and his future father-in-law are still not seeing eye to eye. Well, seeing as our postman is walking around with a shiner, I’m guessing he’s not even seeing out of his own two eyes.’” I laughed and shook my head. “This is ridiculous. And you thought I’d write this? It’s such an invasion of privacy.”
“Agreed. And Rafe said there’s something about us in there, and that pisses me off.” He motioned for me to eat my food. Bridger Chadwick was quite possibly the most confusing man I’d ever met. He was so closed off and guarded, yet he showed me so much care and concern that it confused the hell out of me.
I forked a quick bite of pasta and then continued reading.
“‘Hopefully a new baby will help heal all wounds, including the baby daddy’s wounds.’” I rolled my eyes at the audacity that my parents had allowed this to be printed. But I was aware that “The Taylor Tea” had increased revenue considerably, and my parents were all about the bottom line. I turned my attention back to his phone. “‘In other breaking news, there’s been a noted absence at the Vintage Rose lately. Apparently, Rosewood River’s favorite florist has branched out into interior design, and who better to renovate than our favorite broody billionaire? But maybe his home is not the only thing she’s renovating, as word on the street is that the two have jetted off to the most romantic city in the world. Maybe it’s not his business she wants; maybe it’s his heart that she’s after. I hope it’s not hers that gets broken. Because we all know the saying…once an unattainable bachelor, always an unattainable bachelor.’” My mouth dropped open when I finished, and Bridger gave me a warning look as he reached over and pushed my mouth closed. I chuckled.
“I’m both a broody billionaire and an unattainable bachelor.” He shook his head with disgust.
“I don’t know why you’re offended. At least what they’re saying about you is actually true. They’re basically calling me a fraud.”
A loud laugh escaped him. I loved when he laughed because it was raw and genuine, and you had to earn it.
“How are they calling you a fraud?”
“They’re claiming I don’t want to renovate your home. I’m in it for something else. That’s some shady shit to say about me, and the fact that my parents printed it…” I threw my hands in the air after I handed him his phone back.
He leaned close to me. “Do you want to renovate my black, jaded heart, Emilia?”
“Of course not,” I said with a shrug. “And for the record, your heart is not black or jaded. It’s a good heart, Bridger. And anyone would be lucky to claim it.”
His face turned completely serious, lips in a straight line, and he stared at me for a long moment.
“Not everything is meant to be claimed, angel.”
And I knew he meant it.
twenty-nine
. . .
Bridger
I’d beenin a shitty mood ever since returning home from Paris. A mile-high pile of work was waiting for me, and Emilia and I had called our little French tryst done.
Exactly as we’d planned.
She’d been swamped at the flower shop, and when she was at my house, she was always with workers, as renovations were well underway.
We’d text daily, mostly about the renovation, but she kept her distance.
Normally I would appreciate it. But oddly, it irritated me.
And today was already a crap day.
I always took this day off work to support my mother. The woman who had opened her arms to me after my mother lost her life and my father checked out.
“You seem more glum than usual,” my mother said as we stood at the graveside of my biological mother, her sister.
