Page 13 of Wild Rose (Blue River Springs #1)

I start the engine. “We’re not going to work.”

My response seems to be enough. Glancing down at her appearance, she lowers the visor and sighs. “Visors with no mirrors are just a cruel trick,” she mutters, then releases her hair from the tie. Dark silky strands fall around her shoulders, and I can’t look away.

I don’t even try.

Christ. Three days and I don’t even know who I am anymore. “You look fine, Blue.”

She turns her head to me. “What?”

I swipe my thumb across her cheek, smearing some of that paint off, and show it to her.

“Oh.” She pulls on the edge of her sleeve and wipes it off. “Did I get it?”

I blink, feeling like I’m under some spell.

“Good enough. Here,” I say gruffly. “This’ll keep you quiet for a while.” I hand her a coffee tumbler.

She stares at it, inhaling the aroma.

“Stopped by the house before coming to check on you. Dallas was up, mumbling something about his arm. Unlike me, he’s a heavy coffee drinker, so there was a fresh pot.”

She takes a sip with a relieved sigh. “Thank you.”

I relax at the sound. Finally able to think straight. Next order of business is getting some color on those cheeks. And I don’t mean from the sun.

“It looks good,” I say after a long silence. “The Rose.”

She beams at my compliment. “You really like it?”

That organ in my chest swells. And like a jerk, I backtrack. “I don’t like that you did it all at once.”

“Where are you taking me?” she asks as we pass the open gates.

“To the sheriff’s office for vandalism.”

She considers it for a moment. “Sheriff, huh? Is he cute?”

I laugh. “You got a thing for badges?”

“I got a thing for men telling me I’ve been a bad girl.”

I had to ask .

“Breakfast, Rose. I’m taking you to breakfast.”

She smiles. “OK, but then can we go meet this sheriff?”

She’s toying with me. She has to be.

Rose takes another sip, leaning back against the passenger door, watching me. “Maybe I’ll hold off on naming your cart just yet.”

I smirk.

“How’s Dallas?”

“Think he was hurtin’ this morning. But I can’t say I’m sad about it.”

“Even if he came to my rescue?”

I perk a brow. “ Because he came to your rescue. I should’ve let you both get eaten by the Callahan wolf pack.”

“Dusty doesn’t seem so bad. She seems kinda sweet.”

I laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“You should tell your brother you think Dusty’s sweet. You’ll never hear the end of it. And he might just have you committed.”

My eyes go wide. “Wesley? He’s a teddy bear; he’d never hate on anyone.” She winces. “Then again, I nearly cracked a rib when she threw me against the wall, but if she hadn’t, I would have had my face creamed.”

Bile rises in my throat. “Dallas didn’t move you aside?”

“He pushed me behind him, but I thought I could help and jumped between the guys when things started to heat up.”

“Jesus, Rose.”

I pull up to the outdoor café in town, setting the truck in park and jumping out, my boots scuffing against the gravel.

Jerry, the owner, waves as he clears a table, then nods that he’ll be right with us.

Rose is still by the passenger door and I nod her along, but she doesn’t move.

Her eyes gaze past the storefronts and lampposts of the small street. I know exactly what she’s fixed on.

The beauty of Blue River Springs. The mountains, the river that flows below, the evergreen trees lining the hills. That sweet smell of pine in the faint wind.

“Wow,” she breathes. “I could just stare at these all day.”

I expect to roll my eyes. I’ve got work to do and already spent the past hour fussing over her.

But I don’t. I lean against the building with my arms crossed like I’m annoyed. But through my sunglasses, I watch her face, her eyes taking it all in. Her chest rises as she inhales.

Tearing her eyes off the scene, she turns to me, her cheeks rosy with that same flush. “Sorry, coming.”

I sigh and hold the fence open for her.

I lean back in my chair, arms crossed loosely, watching Rose take another bite of her omelet. Perhaps it’s the lighting, but the shadows under her eyes seem to have softened.

There’s something quietly fierce about this girl. And maybe not so quiet too. Something that Wesley never mentioned.

Or misunderstood, perhaps?

I played back her “sorry, not sorry” spiel last night several times in my mind. And no matter how many times I heard it, not once did it sound .?.?. bratty. Impulsive, sure, but the girl wanted something.

And she went for it by any means necessary.

Also, if I’m not mistaken, she texted me at seven this morning, which means .?.?. she was going to be on time.

“What time did you get to bed last night?”

She looks anywhere but at me. “Hit the sack soon as I got in.”

It’s a lie.

Don’t know why or how I know, but it’s a lie.

Letting it go, I take a sip of my water. “How’s your arm?”

Slowly, she slides her right arm off the table, setting it on her lap. “It’s fine, why?”

“I meant your other arm.” I shift my gaze to the covered skin just beneath her shoulder.

“Oh. It’s nothing—” She smiles playfully. “Serves me right for getting into it with a thorny bush.”

“Agree.” I smile and wink.

And it does something to her, if the way her eyes flash and her gaze lingers appreciatively is any indication.

What is happening?

How did I get here? One minute ready to throw this untamable troublemaker out the door, and the next .?.?. feeling a flutter stir in my stomach because my smile made her happy.

This isn’t right.

She’s been here three days and every coy smirk, every lingering glance, every accidental touch drags me in deeper.

I need to pull back. Create some distance if I have any chance of making it through this summer unscathed.

She can’t hurt me. No one can. Not after Bonnie.

A flicker of my ex’s face threatens to surface but I push it down, burying those feelings where they belong. She sure as hell had none when she said goodbye.

I was ready to give it all up for her. Lost myself in something that was never real.

Rose isn’t Bonnie. That much is clear from a mile off. But the risk is one hundred percent the same.

I need to shut this down before it gets any further.

But one wrong move, and others would suffer. Wesley, the ranch, and who knows .?.?. maybe even Rose.

No. I won’t play this game.

These inappropriate comments, the brush of skin, it all stops.

Today.