Page 6 of A Taste For Trouble
DOMINIC
Istepped out of my Range Rover and stared at the old cottage on Pine Hollow Road that I passed to and from work twice a day. Each time, I had to force myself to look away as I passed the house, lest I catch a glimpse of her. And yet, here I was. Forced to walk up to the crumbling Colonial cottage that was as familiar to me as my own house.
All because of Rose-pain-in-my-ass-Murphy.
Trevor followed me out of the car, and for one long minute, the two of us stood next to each other, staring at the ivy-covered walls of the cottage.
“Did you call her?” asked Trevor.
“I tried, but she didn’t answer,” I bit out, worry eating at my insides. What if I was too late? What if Joe had already proposed to her while he was in a lasagna-induced food coma? Wait, it was too early for dinner.
“Why does she always pick such losers?” Trevor complained. “Imagine wanting to marry that loser.”
Because she knows it makes me mad, I thought to myself, but didn’t say aloud. Sometimes, I felt the little minx spent all her time trying to think of ways to make me miserable.
“That’s not our business,” I replied, and led the way to the front door.
I resisted the impulse to kick down the flimsy front door out of fear that the whole cottage would come crumbling down. Instead, I rang the bell.
There was no response.
I rang again. The house seemed silent.
I frowned at Trevor.
“Do you think she’s out?”
“Umm, boss, I just saw her bedroom curtain twitch. She’s here all right,” said Trevor, hiding a smile as he leaned forward to press his finger against the doorbell again.
“Come on, Rosie Posie. Open up. The big bad wolf is here to gobble you up,” he called, and winked at me.
“Don’t call her that. Never call her that!” I growled.
Because Rosie Posie was my name for her. Even if I didn’t call her that anymore, because it felt far more intimate now than it did when we were kids.
There was no reply.
“Alright, Rose. You asked for it. I’m kicking the door in,” I snarled. “Move back, Trevor. On the count of three! One… two… “
Before I could finish counting, the front door swung open, and Rose glared up at us. Man, but she lived up to her name! She was as prickly and beautiful as a rose. Fiery and heart-stoppingly gorgeous. Especially when she was angry, as she was now.
“What the hell are you guys doing here?” she demanded.
“I’m here to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life,” I announced, and she turned a fierce glare on Trevor.
“I can’t believe you ratted me out, you traitor!”
“I was worried about you, Rosie,” he replied.
“Worry about yourself, because I’m never making my lasagna for you again,” she growled.
“Hey! I was just looking out for you,” he protested.
“What’s that smell?” I asked, leaning forward as I wrinkled my nose.
“Step back,” she ordered. “In fact, get out. You have no right to interfere in my personal life.”
“I promised Aunt Polly I’d look after you,” I began, but Rose held up a hand.
