Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)

by Elsie Silver

We fall into silence, staring at the sky above us. Minutes later, he breaks it with, “That one looks like Erika. The plant.” “Oooh,” Milo’s sleepy voice chimes in unexpectedly. “Hi, Mama.”

“Giddy up, Ree!” Rhys’s lips twitch. “Not in the store, buddy. After.” Undeterred, Milo kicks his legs. The ones that end up gripped in both of Rhys’s hands. “Go neeiiigh like a pony, Ree!” Rhys groans and shakes his head, but it’s good-natured. “Not right now.”

Then he turns back to me with an effortless, “You coming, baby?” that makes my cheeks feel warm. And based on the way his eyes trail over my face, I don’t think he misses it. With a thick swallow, I pull myself together and forge ahead into the store while trying not to overthink the show we have to put on for the gazes that linger on us.

I try—and fail—to cover the shiver that races down my spine when he touches me. This is all for show, I remind myself as I glance around. It’s pretend. “Are you cold?” Rhys’s voice is like gravel, the feel of his breath against the shell of my ear a distracting tease as he leans in close. “A little,” I lie. Which backfires spectacularly when he tucks me against his side, draping one heavily corded arm around my neck. He drops a chaste kiss against my hair and continues sauntering through the grocery store like this is the most natural thing in the world.

Me? My heart is racing like I’ve just run a marathon. Which is bizarre because I fucking hate running and would never.

“Right. Stretch. I forgot about you.” The dig is clear, but Terence seems the most fixated on the flash of gold on Rhys’s finger. His eyes move down to my left hand, which boasts a matching ring. He scoffs. “Really? I thought you’d remember losing to my team all the time.” Rhys laughs. It comes out deep and makes his broad shoulders shake. “Oh, nah. Hard to think much about bowling when we’ve been busy celebrating the wedding. Ya know?”

I don’t answer. But I swear he just knows. A satisfied rumble vibrates in his chest as our eyes clash. “Yeah, that is right,” he murmurs, before dropping his head and kissing me. Right here, in the grocery store.

“Anyway, it’s always a pleasure, Terence. See ya around.” He doesn’t look away from me as he addresses a guy who hasn’t mattered in over a decade. His show of unnecessary territorialism leaves me scrambling, wondering why we needed to fake it right here and now.

eyes widening when he tosses two copies of the Rose Hill Gazette on the conveyor at the last minute. “Why do you want two copies of that?” I ask in confusion, still reeling from his kiss.

Rhys’s fingers tangle absently in my hair and give a gentle tug. “Obviously we have to keep a copy of our marriage announcement for the wedding album,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “And…” He taps his card on the reader, a smug smile on his face while he leaves me hanging, watching, wondering what the hell he was about to say. Once the machine beeps its approval, I get my answer. Rhys turns and tosses one paper over the magazine rack, landing it smack-dab in front o...

“That was so fucking petty,” I whisper to him. But all I get back as we hit the outdoors is a firm squeeze and a gravelly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Giddy up, Ree!” he squeals, circling a free hand around his head. And Rhys does. He gallops through the parking lot in a way that is entirely out of character, and Milo hoots and hollers with glee. This big, stoic man we got stuck with, who is constantly tied up tight, goes all soft and gooey for the little boy on his shoulders right before my eyes.