Wild Love: Chapter 41

I wake up wrapped around Rosie like I’m a child snuggling with my favorite teddy bear. Her torso curves into mine, my legs framing the backs of hers. I’ve got an arm draped over her shoulder and my hand covers hers completely, our fingers linked.

She smells like the lilacs that grow down by the lake, and she feels like heaven.

She feels like home.

She feels like she’s finally mine.

I shut my eyes and nuzzle down into her neck, trailing the tip of my nose over the shell of her ear. Breathing her in, letting her hair catch in the bristled stubble on my chin. I want so badly to drift back to sleep, to spend all day like this.

But there’s a subtle buzzing going on somewhere in the room. Annoying, like a fly buzzing around my head. Intruding on our peace just enough that agitation flares inside me. And then concern takes hold as I think about Cora and whether anything could be wrong.

She’s mine but not. Bearing the burden of safeguarding her until her mother recovers is an immense pressure. And it’s that stress that pulls me from the warmth of the bed and the comfort of Rosie’s sleeping body.

She stirs as I search the room. We were in such a frenzy last night that I’m not sure where our phones are. Her tiny, pearl-encrusted clutch is dropped by the front door, but when I touch it, it’s not vibrating.

The buzzing stops, then picks up again, and worry flares inside me. I turn, heading toward the pile of clothes that are actually an expensive tuxedo. The jacket is tangled up in the pants, and my fingers scramble to separate it as the noise grows louder. I lift the jacket and shove a hand into the inside pocket, my gut dropping hard and fast when I see my lawyer’s name flashing on the screen.

The heavy, gasping way I suck in a breath has Rosie’s eyes flipping open as every worst-case scenario flashes through my mind. Which is why I’m equal parts relieved and surprised when I pick up with a “What?” and Belinda answers with, “Why are you ignoring your calls? Weston Belmont got arrested last night, and I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours.”

Rosie sits up in the bed, not bothering to cover herself. She’s stunning. All warm and rumpled and wearing a bite mark on her left breast from last night.

It’s a shame she’s about to be really fucking mad at me.

While my lawyer chews me out about how I need to get my ass to Vancouver and help my friend because some asshole named Stan is hell-bent on pressing charges, I soak Rosie in, not fully listening.

Pleading with the universe for this to not be something she holds against me for too long.

“Got it,” I say back to her. “We’re on our way.” I hang up and take in the confused expression lining Rosie’s face.

“What’s going on? Is Cora okay?”

My heart thuds heavily against my ribs, knowing what I’m about to tell her and feeling even more in love with her for asking about Cora before anything else.

“Cora is fine. But…” I scrub a hand over my stubbled jaw and let loose a muttered, “Fuck.”

“Ford.” Rosie tugs the sheet up over herself, like a layer of protection. Like she’s already anticipating some sort of blow. “What’s wrong?”

“West got arrested. We need to go to Vancouver.”

She rears back ever so slightly—this wasn’t what she was expecting. We both know her bother has stayed out of trouble since having kids. They seemed to soothe some of that reckless abandon in him. That ferocity.

But now I’m the one who pushed him too far.

“For what? And why the hell was he in Vancouver?”

She pushes up onto her knees, gathering the sheet higher, almost wrapping it around herself, reading my face—my body.

“He was helping me.”

Her face is blank, eyes wide like saucers. The silence in the room crescendos.

“With Stan.”

She stays eerily still, staring—no, glaring—at me as splotches of red expand on her chest and travel up her throat, unspoken words forming in her heart and moving up to her vocal cords so she can hurl them at me.

Angry, pissed-off words. Because I know I shouldn’t have involved West in this.

“You…” Her voice is stony, a troublesome sort of calm. “You told my brother about what happened with Stan?”

I drop my phone on the desk beside me and take a step toward her, but she holds a shaking hand up to stop me.

“No. You’re going to stay right there.”

I swallow heavily and stop my forward motion before lifting my arms and raking my fingers through my hair. “Rosie, I’m sorry. We weren’t together at that point. When I told him, I still… I figured we were going to be what we’d always been. Nothing had happened between us yet. I never knew we’d be where we are now.”

“I…” She glances around the room now, a breathy, disbelieving chuckle lurching from her throat, followed by a pained groan. “I told you that in confidence.” Her eyes slice back to mine, pinning me to the spot. “You are the only person I’ve told that to other than Ryan. And something has always been happening between us. We’ve always had secrets.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say, and I’ll say it over and over again. No matter how many times it takes.

“You told me you wouldn’t tell anyone. And then you decide that of all the people in the world to tell, my brother seemed like the ideal candidate? Who else? My parents? God.” She drops her face into one hand while the other clutches at the white sheet. “How humiliating.”

“You have nothing to be humiliated about.” I spit the words out like venom.

She looks back up at me, face drawn, hands limp at her sides. “Fine. So why exactly is my brother facing charges?”

My molars grind. West and his fucking temper. “I don’t know the details. He hit Stan. I thought he would be okay just being the one to hand-deliver the eviction notices. He wanted to do something and was getting a kick out of tormenting the guy. But apparently Stan came at him this time, and you know how that goes over with West.”

She shakes her head at me, like she can’t quite believe what I’m telling her.

“You know we’ve always been partners in crime.”

She scoffs. “Yeah, when you were kids playing ding-dong ditch or getting booze underage, it was fine. You guys are adults now, and you can’t just play this off like you are two teenagers getting into trouble. This isn’t… Ha!” She barks out a laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m just having a really hard time wrapping my head around how someone as intelligent as you can be so deeply oblivious. He has two children who need him, Ford. He doesn’t have billions of dollars in his coffers. You can’t use him to do your dirty work just because he’s always been a little rougher around the edges than you. You keep your hands clean and play chess while West takes the fall? If you’re as good a friend to him as you claim to be, how could you have put him in this position?”

“That’s never how I meant it. We were working together as a team.”

“Right, well, one of you is sitting in a police station and the other is lounging around in a thousand-dollar-a-night boutique hotel room. Forgive me for missing the team aspect of this venture.”

My throat dries as I wrap my head around what she’s saying, finally seeing the entire situation from a perspective other than my own. Beyond my tunnel vision for revenge on a man who wronged someone I love.

“I didn’t think⁠—”

“No.” She stands and the sheet drops, leaving her entirely naked as she walks to me. “You didn’t think because you are privileged beyond compare.” Her arms fly out wide. “You have power you don’t even recognize. Money. Clout. A name you complain about but wield like a weapon. And that’s okay. You should make the most of what you’ve got. But goddamn it, Ford. At least recognize it. Own it.”

I blink. Stricken by the rawness of what she’s telling me.

“That day? In that office? Stan stole my power. It was for a split second, and maybe it should have been easy to brush off, but it changed everything I worked for in my life.” She snaps her fingers, and I flinch. “Poof, gone. It was a stark look at how truly insignificant I was. It made me question my value.”

My throat aches. It contracts so tightly on itself that I’m unable to find my voice.

“That was my story to share. When I was good and ready. Or my secret to keep for however long I wanted. And I entrusted it to you.”

“Rosie—”

Her head shakes sharply. “No. I don’t want to hear it. I know what you were trying to do, I do. But Ford…” Her fingers comb through her wavy hair as she blinks away. “You guys aren’t teenagers with grudges against some small-town boy who dumped me anymore. The dynamic with us isn’t what it was when we were kids. And I know he’s your best friend, but if you and I are ever going to be anything, I need to be the one who comes first, Ford. I need that loyalty from you, even over him. I won’t settle for less.”

Her voice cracks, and she blinks her tears away. Head held high as she turns back toward her overnight bag, rifling through it for clothes.

I watch her dress in guilty silence, realizing what I’ve done. Undermined her trust and tried to play god. Pulling strings I have no business pulling, no matter how virtuous my cause or pure my intentions.

Keeping secrets I shouldn’t, while spilling the ones I should.

“Rosie, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

She ignores me and, now dressed, continues packing her bag. And I just stand here in my boxers, the morning after the one night I had everything I could ever want, watching it all go up in smoke. And I’m the asshole who lit the match.

I finally give voice to what’s been turning my stomach for the past several minutes. “Are you coming with me?”

She straightens, duffel in hand, and walks straight up to me. “No. I am booking my own flight to Calgary, and then I hope Tabby or someone will pick me up and drive me back to Rose Hill.”

“But we could⁠—”

Her pointer finger jabs me in the chest, and her eyes sparkle with unshed tears as she goes toe-to-toe with me. “No. You are going to walk in there like Ford Grant Junior with your big swinging dick and World’s Hottest Billionaire title, and you are going to make this right. You break it, you buy it. Go be a team or whatever you little boys are calling this shit.”

My molars grind as I give her a firm nod. I’ll give her anything she wants to make this right.

“I’m going to go make sure my niece and nephew have someone to pick them up when their week at their mom’s place ends. And I hope to god Mia doesn’t have any second thoughts about sending them to a guy who flies off the handle while playing Dog the Bounty Hunter for kicks.”

I swallow and her eyes search my face. Anger flashes through them, and a plea lurks beneath it in those blue depths. “Cora’s end-of-school party is tomorrow.” It’s a silent command for me to be back with everything fixed. She grips my chin. “Make this right.”

With that, she turns and walks out of our hotel room. But not before calling back over her shoulder, “And also, I quit.”

Then the door clicks shut on me.