Page 36 of Wild Rose (Blue River Springs #1)

Wilder: Planned on it.

“Look at that. It’s not just me you smile at,” Rose says, her tiny frame leaning against the hallway wall.

I perk a brow and set my phone down. “How’d you know I’m not looking at you?”

“You got a picture of me on your phone?”

“What’s a guy to do when the hottest thing he’s ever laid eyes on is on her knees in the dirt because you ordered her to.”

“You do not have a picture of me picking rocks out there.”

I chuckle. “No. It’s Dallas. He’s, uh .?.?.” I look down at my phone. “He doesn’t ask for help much, so .?.?.”

She steps closer, touching my arm. “Does he need more time? I can stay longer if you need me to.”

I do a double-take. “You’d do that?”

She shrugs. “It’s not like I’ve got anything else going on.”

I push the thought of Rose staying out of my mind. “No, it’s .?.?.” I run a hand down my face, no point in keeping it a secret. “Someone showed up at the house the other day. He had a little girl with him. About six. Said she’s Dallas’s from .?.?. an old girlfriend.”

“Oh my God. That’s .?.?.” She narrows her eyes. “Wait .?.?. a man, not the mother?”

I give her the short version of the history Cole shared.

“So, where do we go from here?” The way she says “we” tugs at my heart. Like Dallas said, she already feels like part of us.

“I don’t know,” I rasp. “Right now, we’re just trying to find out if she’s his. Take it from there. And I just—I know if she is, he won’t let her go. Which means I need to count on him getting better. That little girl is too young and innocent to not have it all.”

She nods, watching me. “Are you worried she’ll be your burden too?”

Damn, she’s sharp. “Maybe a little. Can you blame me?”

“I think you don’t give him enough credit. This is a human being. And it explains Dallas on the field today. What’s making you doubt him?”

That’s right. Rose was studying to be a therapist. I pull open the fridge, avoiding her question. “We skipped dessert earlier. Cheesecake?”

She glances at it like I’m giving her a newspaper. “Do you have a preference?”

“What?”

“The little girl. Do you have a preference if it turns out to be his or not?”

“Sounds like a question for my brother, not me.”

“It’s only natural for you to have a preference. I’m curious.”

“Of course you are.” I set the plate down and release a breath. “I’d have told you my preference is that she isn’t and it’s a whole mix-up, but .?.?.”

“But?”

“But I saw her. And she’s got his eyes. And the couple, her grandparents .?.?. they can’t take care of her anymore. It’s not like any of us need a kid around right now, but .?.?. if it turns out she isn’t .?.?. well, something just wouldn’t sit right with me for a while.”

She watches me for a moment, her face unreadable.

There’s no judgement or question. Just understanding.

Rose pulls two forks from the drawer and hands me one. “Cheesecake’s my favorite.” She dips hers in.

I nudge her with my hip, digging my fork in beside her. “I’ll add it to the list.”

“List?”

“Willow called. I answered—” I pause when I realize how that might sound. If I ever answered Bonnie’s phone, she’d deck me.

Rose rolls her eyes. “Oh Lord, what did she say?”

“She gave me a Rose tutorial.”

She breaks into laughter. “I’m sorry. I need to tell her to mind her business. She’s protective.”

“I like that.”

“Between her and my brother, I’m set for life.”

I don’t know about that.

“She called to let you know she forwarded your mail to Wesley’s since she didn’t know your address here.”

“Oh. Probably just bills my brother will open and check for delinquencies.”

I know all about Wes having to take care of his sister because she can’t hold down a job. And when she could with something like bartending at night, he’d criticize her judgement.

It sure has got to be frustrating for her.

But hell, if I’m not grateful she ended up here because of it.

“How you feelin’?” I ask, pulling her by the waist.

Her eyes twinkle when she answers, her tone playful. “Like I could go all night.”

I bend to kiss the top of her head, trying to match her playful tone but failing. “You got work tomorrow. And I should probably .?.?.”

She pulls back like she’s been burned. “I know. I’ve taken up so much of your time already.”

I see the sun setting and there’s one thing I need to set straight with her before the weekend is over. “Come for a walk with me.”

Her eyes widen. “Is that OK?”

“Rose, we take walks all the time.”

“More like you march ahead of me and boss me around while I try to keep up.”

“If I keep my strides even with yours, will you walk with me?”

She nods and there’s a hint of apprehension in her eyes, picking up on the shift in mood. This girl is nothing if not perceptive.

Before long, we’re walking along the river.

The part of my ranch where the water runs slow and smooth.

It’s a quiet afternoon, ranch humming around us, cottonwood leaning over the fences.

I glance down at Rose, liking the way she takes it all in.

Her eyes dance from the wildflowers to the daisies that grew thick along the edge this past spring.

She’s not in awe of them, her expression is more thoughtful. Like it’s more the idea of flowers everywhere she’s embracing. “Which one’s your favorite?” I ask.

She smirks, glancing up at me. “Which one’s yours?”

“Don’t have one.”

She frowns but it’s not playful, there’s a subtle sadness that tugs at my chest. “So?” I ask again.

She narrows her eyes as she looks ahead. “Don’t have one.” Her response is flat and I get the feeling I’ve offended her.

“Something I said?”

“Of course not. How can it be? You don’t say much of anything,” she snaps.

I take a deep breath. Feeling like a jackass because she’s right. It’s not fair. But I can’t help that every damn question feels like she’s digging into my heart.

It’s just a damn flower.

“Sunflower. The wild kind,” I tell her.

Her eyes lift as she searches for them.

I point. “They pop up along the west fence line. Tall, strong, resilient.”

A small grin plays on her face. “Should’ve guessed.”

Something twists in my gut. Warm and a little painful.

“Lavender,” she says, then rolls her eyes with a smirk. “And yes .?.?. roses too.”

I bite back a curse. Because she’s so damn beautiful. So open and giving, despite how many times I’ve let her down. And I’m about to again.

She catches me staring, or hell maybe even my jaw working, and clears her throat. “Sorry. I know you didn’t bring me out here to talk about flowers.”

I soak in what’s left of her smile, my gut twisting because I’m about to wash it away. But I can’t put this off. Rose broke rules and I’ve still got a ranch to run.

I glance over at the stables. “Rose, we need to talk about what went down Friday night.” I can already hear the warmth draining from my tone.

The brilliant colors disappear from her eyes when she tears them away from the field.

“I got distracted this weekend,” I tell her. “We both did. But that doesn’t mean I forgot.”

“I didn’t think you did,” she admits.

“It’s not just about breaking rules. It’s your safety. What if something happened to you over there?”

“It’s a rodeo. It’s supposed to be fun. And I wasn’t going to go, I was just .?.?. helping.”

I stop and turn to face her. “Rose, I can’t keep worrying that you’re going to run off and do something wild again just to—”

“Just to what?”

I swallow hard and cradle her face so she can’t look away. “Just to prove you’re brave.”

Liquid fills her eyes. “Did Willow tell you that too?” Her voice cracks, and it cuts me in half.

“No,” I answer, my voice like gravel.

She looks up at me with something I can’t read. Denial? Gratitude? She shakes her head, breaking free of my grasp. “OK, I’m sorry. There, you got your apology.”

“I don’t want it,” I snap. “I told you I like that you’re not sorry. But I’d also like to know you’re safe while you’re here.”

“You’re not my brother. You can’t keep me in a bubble.” There’s a hint of anger and defensiveness in her tone.

“No, but I can ask you to stop tryin’ to steal my stuff for an adrenaline rush.”

The tension thickens between us but there’s still no place else I’d rather be.

When my words sink in, she rolls her eyes and shrugs stubbornly. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“Thank you,” I huff out.

She starts walking. “Still think I should’ve worked that heist alone.”

I walk her back, and we change the subject, flawlessly moving back into a place where we’re comfortable just being together.

“So, Wes and Dallas are pretty close too?” she asks.

“His best friend. Now I say this since technically, Dallas doesn’t have any other friends.”

“Really?”

“His whole circle was Millie’s friends. She was a social butterfly.” I scoff at a memory. “At her funeral, he joked that at least he didn’t have to hang out with her group of friends anymore.”

Rose winces but shrugs. “Well, I’m glad you both have Wesley. Even if I don’t know what you see in him,” she jokes.

It seemed so simple back there by the river. I told her I had a big problem with something and she took the time to listen, understand, bite back a little, which I respect, but we just get each other. And now, we move on, refusing to let a spat ruin our evening like I thought it would.

Like it used to with Bonnie. Or hell, anyone else in my life.

Several instances on our walk back, our hands collide, wanting to grab the other, but we catch ourselves and pull back.

It’s the only part of this .?.?. relationship .?.?. that feels forced. Keeping my hands off her.