Page 12 of Wild Rose (Blue River Springs #1)

Wilder

The organ in my chest constricts.

She thinks she scared me? “I’m a whole lot of things right now, Rose. Furious, disappointed, frustrated as fuck, but I don’t scare easily.” I keep my voice even, my glare powerful as I take a step closer.

It’s not like I’m lying. I don’t scare easily.

But when I read that text from Rose, I was paralyzed with fear.

In all the years I’ve known Wesley, and all the stories I’ve heard about his sister getting knee-deep in mischief, never, and I mean never , did I hear that she picked up the phone .?.?. and called him for help.

The things that went through my mind. The sheer panic that consumed me.

Instantly, I stopped the search for an intruder on the property and sent everyone home. Then I hopped in my truck and all but busted through the gates to get to her.

It was two minutes to get off the property. And a five-minute drive—at that hour and my speed—but I got there.

When Dallas tossed her into my arms—unharmed, breathing, whole—the relief that washed over me was profound. An overwhelming warm embrace.

She’s watching me in that way I’m starting to hate—like she gets me, despite my walls.

“Yes, you are all those things, and I’m not disregarding how upset you are with me.

” She shrugs like she’s struggling for the right words.

“Look, I’ll be honest, you all left me here with no way to get around, so I’m not sorry I took matters into my own hands. ”

She winces at my scowl, and fuck, it’s adorable.

“But I am sorry for causing so much trouble tonight.” She licks her lips, and I can’t stop my eyes from dipping to them.

Even poutier now with that frown. I’m about to shut her down to the best of my ability, but then, raspy, raw, and unguarded, she adds, “Especially to you.”

And I’m royally fucked.

You’re going to be very busy.

And very tired.

The second the words came out of my mouth, I regretted it. Because of the way her eyes flared with heat. And because my dick clearly misunderstood my meaning as well.

I couldn’t just say, You’re going to clean up the mess you made .

No, I had to get all creepy about it.

I crack my neck, loosening the tension from last night. The sun was already over the hills when I stepped out to do my morning rounds with Tuscan—my horse.

The air was already thick with heat, which reminds me of my first task of the day. Pulling his reins, I pause and scan the horizon of golden fields, smirking as I dial one of my off-site cowboys. One of the few I trust not to ask questions when I have an odd favor. “Hey, Jeff, mornin’.”

“Mornin’, boss. Got the cart settled back at the lot,” he says cheerily. He doesn’t ask what happened to it or why it was parked outside of Bones.

“Yeah, do me a favor. My new assistant offered to fix it up for us. Would you mind dropping it off at her cabin this morning?”

He hesitates. “It’s going to need a little more than a dusting, Wilder.”

“I’m aware. Just bring her everything she needs .?.?. a bucket, rags, whiteout, I don’t care. Just drop it off, and I’ll let her know.”

“On my way.”

“Thanks.”

I roll my shoulders back and lift my hat to rub the exhaustion off my face. Sure hope she managed to get some sleep.

She’s going to need the energy.

Wilder: Dropped off your first task of the day. Go to town.

Wilder: And I don’t mean literally.

Twenty minutes later, after I’ve settled into my office, Jeff returns the keys, dropping them on my desk.

“Assuming you didn’t want me to leave these with her?”

I look up at him as I shove the keys in my pocket. “Smart man.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he walks out. “Gonna be an interesting summer.”

My phone pings, and my heart rate ramps up as I reach for it.

Rose: Is punishment a kink of yours?

Jesus Christ.

Wilder: Good morning. Hope you slept well.

Rose: Is that a toothbrush?

I laugh out loud. “Oh, Jeff. Remind me to give you a raise.”

I’m tempted to tell her that if that doesn’t suit her, she could always use the ripped dress from last night as a rag, but that would be inappropriate.

Wilder: I hear you’re creative.

A minute passes and I wonder if I’ve taken it too far. The cart isn’t in terrible shape. And we do get them washed weekly because of all the dust and rain.

Rose: I’m going to be a little late to the office.

Wilder: You have one hour.

A little over an hour passes when my phone rings and I expect it to be Rose. I push off my chair and reach for it, shaking off the bubble in my gut from getting to hear her voice.

But it’s not her. It’s her brother.

“Hey.” I’ve never had to try to sound nonchalant with my best friend before, so I’m not sure how that came out.

“Please tell me she’s on time today.”

I breathe a sigh of relief that he hasn’t heard anything about last night.

For a reason I can’t settle on, I don’t want him knowing about it. Not yet at least.

“Already working on the first task of the day,” I assure, pleased with myself as I glance out the window for the fifth time in the last few minutes, waiting for her.

He releases a breath. “Ah great, how’s it going?”

“I’ll let you know at the end of the week.”

“That’s a good sign. Well, tell her to stop in for breakfast soon. We’re closing early to get ready for the Randerson Tour, and I don’t exactly have time to run it over to her again.”

I check the time and curse. There’s no way I’m letting Rose skip breakfast because of a dumb golf cart.

I stand, march to my office door, and pull it open. Still no sign of her.

“You there?” Wes asks.

“Uh, yeah. You just worry about the crowd you got comin’ in. I’ll take care of Rose.” The words are innocent, but I can’t help but feel like a sleaze as I say them.

Because I haven’t been able to get my mind off her all morning. All night for that matter.

And not just how she looked in that tattered dress.

Not even the anger that’s still lingering.

But the way her body felt pressed against mine for a brief moment when I carried her out of the bar. The pang of disappointment I felt when I had to set her down.

Her tenderness with my six-foot-five burly brother in my kitchen last night when she felt for pieces of glass under his skin.

The remorse in her eyes for the trouble she’d caused me.

“You’re the best. Make sure she gets her iron. I don’t need her passing out on the job.”

I frown. “Is she anemic?”

“No. Or at least not anymore. She had a terrible diet her last year of college. Lived off coffee, barely ate meat—or much of anything. Must have been midterms or the pressure of graduating, but eventually it resolved itself.”

That’s odd .

Or maybe I find it odd that her brother—who claims to know her better than anyone—doesn’t know much about what it was that caused her poor diet for a short time.

I don’t pay a ton of attention to my brothers. But when Dallas and Silas have a noticeable change that affects their health, I get answers.

As do they when it comes to any one of us.

“Good luck with the tour. Call me if you need anything.”

Again, I dismiss him with business and don’t wait before hanging up.

Within ten minutes, I’m in front of cabin four, jumping out of my truck.

Rose is lying on the dirt next to the cart I hardly recognize as one of mine, but I don’t focus on it.

“Rose.”

She yelps, a wooden stick flying out of her hands. It’s not until it falls back down, brushing against her face, that I realize it’s a paint brush.

“You scared me,” she breathes, her dirty hands clutching her heart. A fresh blue smudge on her cheek.

My lips part as I take her in. Her hair is up in a messy bun, long, dark strands falling from every direction. She’s in a white top covered in dirt and blue paint, but it’s the long sleeves of her top that bother me. It’s too hot for her to keep wearing those.

Rose wipes at her sweaty forehead. “Hey,” she says breathlessly since I haven’t bothered with a word yet. “I’m just finishing up.” Then with a small smile, she steps aside, spreading her arms out. “What do you think?”

I’ve been so busy gawking at her that I barely noticed the golf cart. It shines like new. Inside and out. But then my eyes dip to the colorful roof contour. In bold, blue strokes, she’s painted the words Blue River Ranch .

“I couldn’t get the scratches out, so I .?.?. got creative.”

I step forward, my brows shooting up. “Wow.”

She holds up her hands. “Bet ya I can still make you mad.” She waves me to the side of the cart, and I follow with caution.

I fight back a grin when I see it. The words The Rose are painted in bright pink with beautiful blue roses surrounding them.

“I named it.” She beams. “Which means, it’s mine. For the summer, of course. I need to be able to get around, and unless you’re giving me a horse—and lessons—this will have to do.”

She watches me, waiting for my reaction, consent, more scowling maybe .?.?. hell, I don’t know. But I don’t care about some stupid cart she just branded.

My eyes are on her. She looks exhausted and pale.

I rake my fingers through my hair. The fuck was I thinking having her do this first thing in the morning?

She must notice my irritation because her eyes go wide—like she’s taken things too far. “I can change it ba—”

“You haven’t eaten.”

She frowns, then looks at the cart like it’s obvious she’s done nothing else this morning. “No.”

I swallow hard and start back toward my truck. “Get in the truck.”

After a brief pause, she sprints behind me. “So you don’t want me to do the same to all the other carts? I can name one after you. How’s ‘Broody Ranger’?”

I reach into my pocket, spin, and give her the keys. “It’s yours.”

She pauses. “Wait, really?”

I look over her shoulder. “Doesn’t look like I’ve got a choice.”

She smiles giddily, her eyes lighting up her face. “And don’t worry, before I leave, I’ll paint her back to white.”

I turn and march to my truck. “Get in the truck, Rose.”

Confused, she follows and slides into the seat. “I can drive myself to work now,” she says tentatively.