Page 52 of Wild Rose (Blue River Springs #1)

Rose

Wilder’s been here every night since last Saturday, closing the place down with me. Then taking me home in a city cab. He walks me up to my door, says good night, and I can almost count on seeing him the next day. Same place. Same time.

It’s almost like .?.?. having a boyfriend.

He hasn’t been pushy. But he’s been talking. And I’ve been listening.

This week, Silas started working at the ranch with Connor and Dallas. Which, based on the stories Wilder told me about Silas’s ranch skills, I’m devastated I didn’t get to witness in person.

Then he told me more about his relationship with his younger brother. They’re not close. Would kill for each other, but don’t talk as much as they probably should—Wilder’s words.

And I make a mental note of it.

Because as much as I’m fighting it, I want to be part of his life.

I haven’t asked about their mother, Carrie, but she’s slowly been coming up more in conversation.

Nothing about her accident. Just how things were when she was around.

There was less .?.?. tension, which I think is the word Wilder was thinking of.

He grumbled something about there not being “so much barbed wire” between them back then.

He’s been asking about my progress with registration for the fall semester. I don’t offer much. Since technically .?.?. I don’t know much.

It turns out the new school back home in South Carolina wants me to retake certain courses to match their curriculum after the transfer. So I’ve been holding off on committing.

And .?.?. maybe there are other reasons I’ve held off.

The other day, I looked into the school Wesley was telling me about in Denver. Just browsing the site and taking note of their application deadline. No calls made yet.

No submissions. Just .?.?. an open mind.

I clap with the crowd as Willow finishes her first set of the night on Friday evening. She takes a small bow and moves to sit at my bar.

“Boy, you’re just giving up, aren’t you?” I laugh, taking in her look. Not that she doesn’t look gorgeous, she’s just dressed down tonight.

Her auburn hair hangs in loose waves around her shoulders, framing a face with minimal makeup. She’s in jeans and that oversized black hoodie I gave her last week.

She shrugs coyly. “Choosing comfort over big tips today.”

I grin. “Big what?”

“Tips, tips,” she calls out.

I laugh, wiping down a bottle before setting it behind the bar.

Willow settles in her chair and looks around, confused. “Is he here yet? I haven’t seen him.”

I don’t follow her gaze. I know he’s not here. It’s an hour past his usual arrival time and I’m trying hard not to care—not to notice, not to let my heart sink.

I talked to Sandra about him briefly the other day during our first session. She, of course, didn’t say much since he’s not the focus of my healing. But apparently, he’s a big part of my road to self-worth and trusting again.

Still trying to figure out what the difference is.

She also reminded me not to wait too long to let him in or I might lose him.

I swallow, because maybe she was right.

He gave it a week .?.?. and left. I’d be a hypocrite to be hurt by it since it’s exactly what I did.

“Margarita?” I ask cheerfully.

“Rose?” She narrows her eyes.

“Babe, you’ve only got ten more minutes. You want it or not?”

She looks to the door and purses her lips, her expression matching my inner disappointment. “Just water tonight, thanks.”

I dig a glass into the ice.

“Make that two.” That familiar deep voice sends a shiver down my spine.

I lift my gaze. Wilder flashes me a crooked smile, with a quick glance at my friend. “Evening, ladies.”

Willow pulls up her hood, her eyes flashing with delight as she covers her chuckle.

I’m glad she finds my turmoil of emotions funny.

I set her glass down and swallow as Wilder takes an empty seat two down from her. “Lime?” I ask him, my voice stuck in my throat.

It’s a stupid question. Wilder doesn’t want lime, but I had to say something or he’d see right through my composure.

He keeps his gaze on me, that ghost of a grin still there. “No, thanks.”

I brush my wet hands down my apron just as another voice comes from behind him.

“Hope you got something stronger than that for me.”

I look up at the dark and handsome cowboy. “Dallas,” I breathe with a smile.

He steps between Wilder and Willow and reaches over to give me a hug. He looks good. A little tired, but good.

“What are you doing here?”

He jerks his head like he’s offended. “Hopefully, not drinking water. You come all this way for this?” he asks me.

“Not quite.”

“I’m here for the weekend with Ellie. Her grandmother is having a procedure at a hospital up here and they wanted to take Ellie around town, show her the sights.”

“How nice of you to bring her. What can I get you?”

“Whiskey, ne—” His eyes land on my friend, who’s had her head covered in that hood, swirling the small straw in her ice water. “Nice hoodie.”

Willow snaps her head up, meeting his eyes. A thick moment stretches, and it’s like the rest of the room doesn’t exist.

Willow lowers her hood and blinks. “Yeah, uh, it’s .?.?. my boyfriend’s. I wear his clothes all the time.” She shrugs, and I want to roll my eyes.

I get that my friend has sworn off men, but these white lies to repel the opposite sex are getting a little ridiculous.

Last week she told a guy she’s in a committed relationship with her cat.

Which would have been fine .?.?. if she had a cat.

“Is that right?” Dallas mutters.

I clear my throat. Grabbing Willow’s attention, I shake my head subtly and point to Dallas.

She rolls her lips and assesses him. “This is yours, isn’t it?”

He nods.

Then she leans her nose into him, ghosting it over his torso, then draws back. “Checks out.”

Dallas’s brows shoot up. “I’m glad. Can I have it back?”

“No.” She hops off her chair. “Time for round two.”

Willow sets her drink over a coaster on her piano and settles into her chair.

Wilder pulls his gaze back toward me. “Sorry I’m late. We had to drop off Ellie first, then grab a late dinner.”

“I wasn’t waiting,” I lie. “I was relieved, actually; they need you back home on that ranch.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

I set Dallas’s whiskey at the bar—not that he’s focused on a drink anymore. Or anything other than the soft music from the corner of the bar.

“You heading back with your brother?”

Wilder takes a breath and considers it. “No.”

“What are you waiting for?”

He keeps his eyes on me, making my stomach flip.

“Wilder.”

“Can we talk tonight?”

I give him a small smile. “I’m actually leaving early tonight.”

He checks his watch. “It’s eleven. What’s your idea of early?”

“Midnight. There’s a tattoo parlor open late in the Village and I want to go see if they can do something for me.” I pull a piece of paper from my back pocket where I mocked up a concept I’ve been working on and show it to him.

I watch his expression as he studies it, shifting his gaze briefly from my arm to the artwork. “Is this a river?”

I nod, admiring the sketch again. It’s an outline of a narrow river which would flow from my upper arm to just above my wrist. Blue roses and petals float along the surface like an endless, gentle journey.

He smiles. “I can already see it. And I love it.”

I lean in, challenging him, keeping my tone playful but also being serious. “You don’t think it’s impulsive or wild or .?.?. something I’ll regret later?”

He doesn’t blink as he holds my eyes. “I think you know exactly what you want. It’s what I love about you .?.?.” He leans back with a smile like he’s totally here for it. “Ride hard, think light.”

That smile is contagious, and I take a moment to settle my heart from what he’s just said before I lean in with another question.

“What if I .?.?. change my mind?”

His eyes are full of gravity. “What if you don’t? What if it turns out to be the best thing you ever did? Think that’s a risk worth taking.”

I nibble on the corner of my lower lip.

Wilder glances back at his brother, checking if he’s still distracted with the entertainment. “You regret having those pictures taken of you?”

I’ve been thinking about those a lot these last few days and the truth is, no.

I’m not saying it was a good idea, but it also doesn’t fall under the category of “greatest mistake.” It was exhilarating at the time.

I felt flawless, beautiful, not scarred.

I didn’t feel compelled to shrink into myself, which I sometimes do while fully dressed.

I shrug coyly. “Only after you saw them.”

His eyes soften and he tilts his head to the side with a smirk. “Well then, you won’t mind that I kept them for you.”

My heart swells because of how much he’s saying between the lines with that look, that comment. The fact

that he kept them.

A thick moment passes before someone snaps for a refill behind me. Dallas turns on instinct, like a wolf, ready to protect his own.

I break from Wilder’s gaze and get back to work.

“Thank you for coming with me,” I tell Wilder as he follows me into my apartment.

Dallas also tagged along to the tattoo parlor, before we parted ways and he went back to Wilder’s hotel room.

He frowns, and I can tell he’s nervous about it. Probably more than I am. “Guy seemed to know what he was talking about. Four hours, huh? That’s a long time to sit there while someone pokes you with needles.”

I laugh. “I’ll be all right.”

He reaches for me. “I’ll make sure of it, holding your other hand.”

My shoulders sink because now, the guilt of him staying is weighing on me. “Wilder. The appointment is next week. You can’t—”

“I’m not leaving, Rose,” he says quietly. He sets my things on the kitchen counter then takes my hands in his again. “I will if that’s what you want, but I’m not giving up until you’re back where we both know you belong.”

Warmth blooms in my stomach. I poke him playfully. “Before Wes came that day .?.?. you asked me to stay.”

“Yes.”

“I was going to say yes.”

He swallows because we both know what happened after. “I know.”

“How do I know you won’t change your mind?”

He pushes back my hair, not the least bit surprised by my question. “You know what I felt when Bonnie left me? Before I knew there was someone else?”

I watch him without answering.

“Angry. Confused. Played.” He grips my hands tighter. “But when you left, I felt it in my bones before anyone said a word. I was hollow. A shell. You took a part of me with you. A part of me that belonged to you since our first date.”

A flutter jumps in my chest. Then I frown. “First date?”

“You don’t remember? It was six whole minutes.”

I laugh as he tugs me playfully.

“The difference is, Rose, Bonnie walked away with my pride. But you have my heart.”

My eyes well with tears.

“So tell me, what on earth do I have to go back to if you’re not there?”

“ Everything ,” I breathe like he’s crazy.

He watches me. “Something,” he agrees. “Not everything.”

I melt as he pulls me against him. “Now quit it with your what-ifs.” He rests his forehead on mine. “I love you, Rose.”

I suck in a breath, my hands coming up to hold his face. “I love you.”

He presses his lips to my forehead, breathing me in. “Come back with me. Come home.”

I give a small nod and that’s all it takes. He comes alive, crashing his lips against mine in one powerful, all- consuming kiss. Heat flares between us as our tongues collide relentlessly. I moan into his mouth, overcome with emotion and desire.

He pulls back almost abruptly and walks to my door.

He turns the locks—all of them.

“Oh, you don’t need to do all those—”

“I know. I’m making sure your brother doesn’t interrupt us.”