Page 24 of Wild Rose (Blue River Springs #1)

Wilder

Soft, easy breaths ghost across my collarbone. Her weight against my chest, while delicate, grounds me to the bed.

I don’t want to get up.

But it’s Monday morning. I was due on the field an hour ago. But hell, the ranch could be going up in flames and I’d reason with myself that the guys can handle it.

I slept maybe three hours—good enough for me. But Rose, had to be a solid five—not enough. I watched her for an hour after she fell asleep in my arms.

How did I miss the signs of trauma?

How did Wesley miss them? I try to resettle the anger pulsing through my veins and suck in a slow, calming breath.

The room smells like lavender and something purely .?.?. Rose. The dim morning light seeps through the thin curtains of her bedroom, turning everything a pale gold.

My jaw clenches as I look down at her, wishing to hell there was something else I could do. I swipe loose strands of hair from across her cheek and forehead.

I watch her as I gently drag my hand down her arm, flicking my gaze to the pink lines there.

She’s safe. Curled up against me, her small hand on my ribs like it’s her favorite place to touch me, like she belongs there.

Who the hell am I to argue? Because look at her. It’s a goddamn miracle how peaceful she looks, knowing the demons that haunt her every night.

Twisting, I drag a hand down my face, careful not to wake her.

I shouldn’t want to be her savior. I shouldn’t want her, period.

But I do.

Christ, I do. I’m sick to my stomach with the need to keep her just like this. Untouched, unharmed, un .?.?. assaulted.

She didn’t say as much but it’s clear she feels ruined by it all.

Maybe I wasn’t part of her life then, but it doesn’t matter. Someone should have been there for her. Someone should have known what she went through. Anger burns my chest for something neither of us can help.

And like the coward I am, all I can do is lie here and pretend. Pretend that for one night, she’s mine to protect.

She groans, fluttering her eyes open. Releasing a breath when she remembers I’m here with her.

“Am I late again, boss?”

I swallow. “Stay in bed.” I kiss her temple lightly. “I’ll check in on you later.” I slide out, feeling enough of the chill for the both of us.

“No. No, I’m going to work.”

“Come in later then,” I say softly, careful not to treat her like a victim.

“I want to go with you. Remember? Bonus points if I show up before you do?”

I grin down at her but the smile she gives me right back nearly wrecks me. “Fine. Get dressed,” I tell her as I zip up my pants.

She slides out of bed in that black nightie she was in last night, and I don’t bother turning away this time. I take her all in as she moves to the closet all sleepy and in broad daylight. She pulls on a long-sleeve plaid shirt.

“It’s going to be hot today,” I remind her, then gesture to her arm. “You don’t need to hide that from me.”

“It’s better to shield from the sun,” she tells me without a second thought and slides her arms in.

I imagine it comes naturally to her, making excuses for covering her arms.

I look out her bedroom window and see my men moving about in the distance. I can be careful about slipping out of the house, but us walking onto the field from the same direction as her cottage will raise some brows for sure.

“Is it better if I meet you at the Saddle Room?” she asks, noticing me peeking out the window.

I grind my teeth. It’s bad enough she spent the last few years ashamed about her scars and what happened. I’m not letting her feel ashamed now.

I shake my head. “I picked you up this morning. Hauled you out of bed to get to work on time.”

She smiles. “Works for me.”

She quickly makes a coffee to go and meets me by the front door. Pushing her tumbler into my hand, she slides on what looks like a pair of boots I haven’t seen.

“Those new?”

“I got them in town yesterday. Actually, a very kind man by the name of Connor Thorne bought them for me. He was out shopping with Ginger—they ran into me at the street fair.”

I rub the back of my neck. “With Ginger, eh?” That one’s going to be hard to explain since it’s something my brothers and I have been trying to figure out.

She perks her brow at me. “Is that something new?”

“No. They’re keeping something from us, that much is clear. I think Dad thinks it’s weird since she was a good friend of mom’s and works for me and Dallas.”

“I think it’s sweet that they have each other.”

A part of me agrees. But there’s another part that wonders if the attraction was there before mom.

I know full well that’s a me problem. “Yeah, well, they don’t have to be all secretive about it.”

Her lips twitch as she looks up at me—eyes dancing with unspoken irony.

With my hand on the door, I roll my eyes with a smirk. “Yeah, well.” I scan her—one last look before leaving whatever is happening between us on pause. “You OK?”

She smiles up at me with a reassuring nod. “Thank you, Wilder. For last night. It was good to get that off my chest with someone.”

I fight the urge to touch her again. “You call me if you ever need me. If anything scares you at night, you hear anything, just call. I’m not far.”

She lowers her chin with a nod and I’m not sure she knows how serious I am. She moves to open the door, but I stop her. “I mean it, Rose.”

She sighs. “Can I at least have my coffee first before you start with me, cowboy?”

I press the mug back between her palms. “Fine.” I pull the door open, glance around like I’m afraid of my own shadow, and shut it behind us.

Rose is at the Lockup, our storage barn, doing inventory, and I’m thankful for the alone time in my office. Usually, it’s the other way around. I’m out on the field while she’s here doing what I hired her to do.

Part of me feels guilty for sending her away. The Lockup is not exactly air-conditioned and she’s damn insistent on those long sleeves.

It’s been two hours since I sent her over and she’s been on my mind ninety-eight percent of it.

I want her.

There’s no reason in denying it.

Friday night I thought I only wanted her the same way I wanted any woman since Bonnie.

One night. One time.

Zero expectations.

But it’s not just her body that’s got me out of my mind.

Her laugh. Her curiosity. The light that pours out of her despite the darkness she keeps hiding behind.

Ever since I had a taste of that pretty little mouth, I haven’t been the same. Nothing sits right with me anymore.

Like Wesley’s relationship with his sister.

There’s being protective .?.?. and then there’s calling someone you love stupid when she already feels it.

Hell, I know he doesn’t mean it, but it’s not a word you throw around lightly.

I growl out loud. Enough of this. I’ve got work to do.

She’s got work to do.

I’ve got to focus on the ranch—make sure we stay on top of our game with one owner down. And stop thinking with the wrong organ.

A few minutes into my efforts, I fail miserably. Thinking about her meeting Dad.

And he bought her a pair of boots? He doesn’t do shit like that.

He despised Bonnie. Said she was a flight risk and had heartbreaker written all over her.

Dad and I had a solid relationship rooted in work, respect, and family values. And I valued his advice more than anything. After everything he’d built, I’d be a fool not to. But I was convinced he was wrong about her—everyone was. When I nearly left, that foundation cracked.

But not deep enough.

Because it didn’t take long for us to build most of that back.

Till this day, the man cracks jokes about how I’m “as hardworking and reliable as they come—unless a pretty face shows up.”

But I can see what he was thinking when he met Rose. One look at that radiant, easy smile she spreads, that wholesomeness about her, and he was sold.

There’s a knock on my door and I all but jump off my seat. Immediately, I think it’s Wes here to ask why he—or someone—saw me coming out of his sister’s cottage this morning.

“It’s open.”

Jeff walks in, carrying a bag from the hardware store. “Hey, boss.” He empties the contents on my desk. “This was all they got. Want me to put them in?”

I look at the different door locks spread out in front of me. “There are only three.”

He looks confused. “Any one of these should do just fine for that door.” He points behind him. “Want me to put one in?”

I shake my head. I asked him to get me whatever they had. Not how many per se. “It’s not for the Saddle Room. Just leave it here. Thank you.”

He watches me for a moment until I look up at him from my desk.

“For Ms. Rose?”

I lean back in my chair, keeping my eyes on one of my more loyal employees.

“I’ve seen you around her place. Is she feeling threatened by anyone?”

“No.” I don’t bother asking when or how long he hangs around to notice. He’s observant. Always has been. I’m just being paranoid. And protective. “Not exactly. Wouldn’t worry about it.”

He nods curtly and leaves me with my thoughts.

I tap my pen on the desk. I don’t expect to get much done with this bag of locks staring at me. Snatching it off the desk, I march out, hop in my truck, and head to Rose’s cottage.

Everything else can wait.

It’s nearly six and Rose hasn’t come back to the Saddle Room. Against my better judgement, I decide to go check on her at the Lockup. It’s next to the stables, so I go on foot, convincing myself I’m heading in that direction anyway to pick up Tuscan for a sweep of the ranch.

Even if I’m an hour early for it.

When I reach the storage, I don’t know what I expected after hours of her being here. Maybe she’d still be figuring out what’s what and how much of it we need? Maybe even going one step ahead and ordering everything? What I didn’t expect is for it to be locked up for the night.

What the hell? Where is she?

I stride to the stables next door, hearing her distinct laughter echoing from inside. I pause when I reach the gate, finding three of my men still milling around after hours.