Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)

by Elsie Silver

She holds her opposite hand up, pinky finger extended. “Pinky swear.” “Pinky swear?” This encounter just keeps getting stranger. “Yes. Pinky swear to me that you will call me if there’s a problem.” I hold my pinky up with a deep chuckle. “You know these aren’t legally binding, right?”

I already knew that he was physically appealing. But now I also know that he’s indirectly responsible for Erika’s overdose. And I hate him for it.

Her words hit hard, each one a blow I didn’t expect to sting quite so badly. Tabitha’s concern for everyone else is admirable… and not at all what I expected based on the stories I’ve been told.

I’m glad Milo has someone like her in his corner. I wish someone had fought as hard for me as she does for him. I may not like her, but I admire her grit and devotion.

“Oh, and I sleep with a gun under my pillow, so don’t try anything weird.”

I can lie beside him and pick out all the fragments of my sister. It feels like she’s not as gone when I look at him.

“That was a joke. This is Canada, Rhys. I don’t own a gun. Neither does anyone I know.”

How can I hate someone who loves my nephew in a way that makes my chest ache and my teeth hurt? Especially in a world where more people to love him could never be a bad thing.

They say the days are long, but the years are short. Soon Milo won’t need me the way he does right now. And I don’t begrudge him this time. I revel in it, especially knowing Rhys could yank it out from under me at any moment.

It’s been another two weeks since I was last here, and all I did was worry about Tabitha and Milo while I was away. It’s fucking insane.

“I knew it,” she whispers, tilting her face up to mine. “It must be exhausting walking around my house with a raging hard-on all the time.”

Fuck. If she keeps this up, I’m going to blow in my pants. In a desperate attempt to take back a shred of control, my hand shoots up, wrapping around her dainty throat.

Rhys has always given off big dick energy. But I know now it’s not so much energy as big dick knowledge. Big dick surety? Big dick guarantee.

It seems like texting grunts and scowls back and forth would be rather anticlimactic.

“Marry me.” I swear the birds stop chirping. The world stops turning. Rhys stops moving. And I want to dig myself a nice big hole and crawl into it. “You and me?” is the first thing he says, rearing back to look at me as though checking to see if I’ve got the vapors.

“You’re not allergic at all, are you? You big fucking drama queen!” That earns me an eye roll and a grumbled, “I hate cats.” “That’s not an allergy. That’s a preference.” “I still hate cats,” he deadpans.

“I hope he has a huge dick. It makes the dumb shit men do a lot more forgivable.”

We clash, but we also work together. My mind constantly contradicts itself with Rhys. He’s trying to take Milo from me. He’s doing everything in his power to keep us together. He’s turned everything upside down. He keeps showing up and trying to make everything right. I hate that he’s here at all. Having him here makes my life better.

There was no tongue, and it didn’t last long, but something about the kiss rattles me in a way I can’t make sense of.

“Friendly reminder that this marriage is fake,” she mutters, focusing just a little too hard on the table where our friends sit. “Nothing fake about how wet you are right now.”

She nods and smiles like the Cheshire cat as her thigh slips between mine. Her hip presses against my erection. “It’s okay.” She pushes onto tippy-toes and presses a kiss just beside my mouth. A fucking tease. “I promise to give you privacy while you consummate this marriage with your hand later tonight.”

“Girl. Have you met men? Everything about them is exhausting.”

“Wild Side’s thoughts on pussy—it’s fine.”

Between the wedding, the sexual tension, and the secrets she uncovered last night, there’s a new level of closeness between us. And despite myself, I like it.

And that rule is that there won’t be anyone else while I’m wearing this ring.”

“Making my wife come is a bad idea because… complicated. Did I get that right?”

“Oh look! The emo one has become the horny one,” Doris announces, fists propped on her hips.

What worked between Rhys and me in the beginning was a mutual distaste for each other and a shared love for Milo. Our arrangement had nothing to do with us, and everything to do with one little boy.

So now the distaste is gone, and in its wake? Mutual respect. With just a drop of obsession.

I like to maintain my privacy. It hits me then that Rhys isn’t in the habit of sharing these things with anyone. He’s built an entire career on keeping a front of complete anonymity. Of becoming another person when that camera turns on. And yet, here he is blurring all those lines. With me.

I feel very special that I get to know both Rhys *and* Wild Side.

“Her name is Tabitha, not that you need to know. Because you? You’re going to keep my wife’s name out of your fucking mouth.”

I love the domesticity of this conversation. I love it when she’s soft like this. Her walls become a little less opaque as she gives me a glimpse into what it’s like being part of a family.

At this stage of my life, busy is good. Busy hurts less.

Maybe our marriage wasn’t born from being madly in love, but I don’t think caring about him will hurt anything at this point.

I’ve been through some shit in my life. But having to watch Tabitha cry might be the worst of it.

I knew I missed him. I just didn’t realize until now that I needed him.

Did she hurt people? Or was she wonderful? I’d realized she could be both things at once and that my memories of her didn’t have to be all sunshine and rainbows for me to still love her.

We’ve kissed in anger. We’ve kissed to taunt. We’ve kissed for show. But we’ve never kissed like this. Like we need each other to breathe and don’t care if the other one knows it.

Does love start off as obsession? Because that’s what I am. Obsessed with my wife.

I’ve never felt so rewarded by being open with another person.

“That’s a hell of a love story if I’ve ever heard one. I know your last name is Dupris, but I’m sure proud to consider you a son. An honorary Garrison. You’ve got the heart of one.”

They are a gift. And Erika, in her own complicated way, gave them to me. And I love her for it. In all her complex glory, I love her.

I regard the mask, this part of me that I’ve always hidden away. With a gruff shake of my head, I take it and tug it over my face.

“First and last, baby,” I rasp out. “Because I have no plans to fuck anyone other than my wife for the rest of my life.”

“Too big. I’ll choke.” I chuckle darkly as my cock hardens at this game she’s playing. I fist her hair. “Then choke on it, Tabby.”

“Turning my life from black and white to full color.”

Surgery is a success, and five days after that, I wiggle my toes.

Every day I spend married to Tabitha Garrison, I feel more whole and settle into this being real, and not some fever dream.

“I thought maybe you’d want to be a Garrison. You, me, and Milo? So presumptuous of me. I just hate knowing you don’t like your last name. Feeling like we’re all together might be nice? I don’t know. Maybe I’m out to lunch. If you don’t want⁠—” Rhys Garrison.