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“I remember Rosie tagging along, just fucking shit-talking you the entire time. God, nothing made me prouder of her.” My body stills at the mention of his sister. Rosalie. I haven’t laid eyes on her in a decade, but my shoulders get tense all the same. I turn to face West. “Doesn’t she have her master’s and some fancy job in Vancouver now?” I already know she does. I look her up from time to time—just to make sure she’s happy, of course.
“World’s Hottest Billionaire.” “I hate you.” “Nah. You love me. I’m the sunshine to your grumpy.” My brows pinch together. “What?” “It’s a thing in romance books—”
And now Rosie fucking Belmont has waltzed into the scene with her smart mouth and suspiciously watery eyes. And all I want to do is demand to know who hurt her so I can fix it.
This may not be her dock, but if she wants it, she can have it.
“Rosalie, when have I ever said no to you?” And I just stand here, stunned. I need a ride home from this party. I want to be alone. I need a job. Because try as I might, no matter how big of a dick he’s been, I can’t come up with a single instance of Ford ever telling me anything other than okay.
There’s nothing platonic about the way I feel when it comes to Rosie.
I huff out a beleaguered sigh, pretending like I’m exasperated by her when I really just need a moment to regain my composure.
Ford makes me feel a lot of different things.. And bad doesn’t top the list. Speechless. Affected. Confused.
He looks at her like she terrifies him. And she looks at him with stars in her eyes. But they’re both too alike to say a single word to each other. It’s adorable.
Leave it to Rosie to blast through any walls or tendrils of discomfort. That’s her gift. The ability to walk into a room and make everyone like her without even trying. She’s the sun, the rest of us are just dumb rocks orbiting her.
Slowly, his hand comes up to grip my ponytail—just like he did the other night. But tonight, with one slow tug, he guides my head back so I’m forced to look at him. “Next time you ask me that, make sure you are.”
“She’s Rosie Belmont,” I say, like that explains the way she looks. The way she is. The way she always has been. “And my best friend’s baby sister.”
“That journal entry is fascinating, but all wrong. I was at home when you called that night. And I broke every speed limit to get to you.”
Because Rosie might think she knows what our secret is, but mine is that I loved sitting on that dock with her even back then.
But my mind? My mind is always on Rosie. And obsessing over what the hell she and Fuckboy are up to right now consumes me. It makes me something I don’t think I’ve ever been. It makes me jealous.
I’m so jealous it hurts.
“He doesn’t deserve you.”
“No, Rosie. But I’m not the type of man who will let that stop me.”
“I miss my dad every day,” she whispers against my shoulder. “But I’m so glad I have you now.”
Rosie, I thought about you. -Ford
“Rosie, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“There’s nothing funny about the way I want you.”
“You’re one of the good ones, Ford Grant Junior. Keep the key.”
You’re stuck with me. Give me all that bitchy attitude. It just makes me love you more.”
“What I meant to say earlier is I’m fucking obsessed with you and I have no idea how to handle it.”
“What I meant to say is I missed you like crazy this weekend.”
“You know what I hate the most about you, Ford?” I ask. “What’s that, Rosie?” He pants my name, runs his nose up the line of my neck, and tightens his hold on me. “That hating you is downright impossible.”
“Do we fight, or do we flirt?” I wink at him, my head still tilted back. “With us, I think they’re the same thing.”
baby,”
“I had come to terms with the idea that you would never happen for me. You were a memory, not a goal.”
“I’m in love with your sister.”
“You’re one big bitch, aren’t ya?”
“I’m so fucking happy for the two of you.”
If I could build you a boyfriend like a Build-A-Bear, he would come out as Ford Grant.
Watching him in dad mode is a kink I never knew I had. Like, Ford was hot before, but make him all concerned and hyper-protective of a little girl who I’m also a huge fan of, and he becomes downright irresistible.
“Oh, this is my girlfriend—Rosalie Belmont.” I walk into the party with a speechless girlfriend on my arm. And I’ve never liked having my photo taken more.
“You are worth every fucking penny!” he shouts, arms flung wide. “I’m careful with my money. I’m downright philanthropic. But this? This isn’t a game. I’m in love with you. This is pocket change compared to what I’d be happy to spend on you. There is no price too high to watch this asshole pay for every moment of misery and self-doubt he caused you.”
“Hear this, Rosie. You are worth every penny. Every fortune. Every investment. Every risk. You are priceless to me.”
Pale blue speckles of paint mar the metal. And all the air leaves my lungs. “You fished that out of the paint?” “Of course. I plan to wear it forever.”
“I’m sorry I never noticed,”
“I’m sorry I never told you,”
“I love you, Ford.” He just nuzzles against me again and responds with a quiet, “I’ve always loved you, Rosie.”
he and I made a promise to keep certain things between us. Because when you love someone, and you share the mistakes they’ve made with people who don’t love them the way you do, you can’t expect those same people to forgive them the way you do either. You can’t unsay those things or undo that damage.”
I don’t want to stay mad at you, and I don’t want to tell other people about the mistakes we make. Give me tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Because who the hell else would put up with me?” Then he drops his head to my chest and murmurs, “Putting up with you is my favorite thing to do.”
My dad says he’ll take us!” And she says it like it’s the most casual thing in the world. My dad. We don’t have a conversation or get all mushy about it—it’s not her style.
Then I take my daughter and her friends tubing for the very first time.
Wild Love Paint on lumber By Rosalie Belmont and Ford Grant
“Loved you then. Love you even more now. If we aren’t driving each other up the wall, what’s even the point?”
“Try to get rid of me then, Rosie. I dare you. I’m making everything that’s mine yours anyway. I’m even renaming the studio.”
