Wild Love (Rose Hill, #1)(108)
Guitar pedals.
I once walked in and found them watching a video where Jack White—who I was told is in fact not Edward Scissorhands—builds a guitar with an old board, a few nails, a piece of string, and an old Coke bottle.
“Well, that sounds exactly like the type of storm cloud conversation the two of you would have.”
I get a petulant eye roll for that one, but it doesn’t bother me at all. This week, Marilyn closed on a house in town. Ford didn’t buy it, but he made the entire process his business. Dickering on price, organizing movers—I even overheard him tell Marilyn that he knows a good painter named Scotty that he could connect her with.
The same Scotty he fired for talking to me.
Petty bastard.
Either way, knowing Cora will be close is the cherry on top. I foresee plenty of music sessions in the office for these two. The odd weekend at our place. A come-and-go-as-you-please arrangement is what it’s looking like.
“Speaking of conversations I like to have?—”
I snort. “Oh, this should be good.”
“Have you ever done Bloody Mary?”
“What?”
Cora rolls her eyes like I’m dumb. “You know… Bloody Mary. Where you say it while you’re turning and then see her in the mirror?”
“This is so on brand for you.” I slap a hand over my mouth as the sentiment slips out, and Cora’s eyes roll again. But she also chuckles.
“I want to try it. But not alone.”
I nibble at my bottom lip. “Like, on Halloween?”
“No. Right now.”
“Right now?”
She shoves me farther into the bathroom, facing the mirror. “Right now.”
“You know ghosts aren’t real, right?”
All Cora does is quirk a brow as my eyes drop to the one pop of pink over her shoulder. My velvet scrunchie. I’m gonna have to pack her stocking full of those at Christmas.
“Let’s go, Rosalie. You chicken?”
I step up beside her, my jaw dropping. “Kid, did you just call me Rosalie and a chicken in one breath?”
She just forges ahead. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
I shake my head. “You need to get back to school. Some structure is good for hellions like you.”
Our eyes catch in the mirror and we both giggle. That was a lie and we both know it. Summer has been the most fun. Cooking over the fire. Boating when it’s hot. Cora has even learned to water-ski.
“So, we have to say Bloody Mary thirteen times. Getting louder each time. On the last one, she’ll show up in the mirror.”
“Ford is gonna think we’re nuts.”
She shrugs. “He already does. Plus, he went to West’s. Okay. Go.”
Wow. She is like… really hell-bent on this.
“Bloody Mary,” she starts with a whisper, and I fumble the first one, trying to catch up.
Then I get the timing right. “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary.” We keep getting louder until I worry that someone is going to call the cops. “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary.”
We look over at each other before screaming the last one.
“Bloody Mary!”
Then every light in the house cuts out, and I scream, jumping what has to be a few feet off the floor.
Cora though? Cora is giggling. And I piece this together quickly. She and her dad are playing a very adorable joke on me.
But going from bright light to being plunged into darkness has my eyes struggling to adjust.
“Ford fucking Grant!” I shout, hoping, for his sake, he hears me loud and clear from wherever the electrical panel is in this house. “You are an overgrown child and I’m going to kill you for this!”
Cora laughs harder.
“Turn these lights on right now!”
I stomp my foot like a petulant child.
And then I start when I hear the amused rasp of his voice from right in front of me. “Okay.”
I’m confused by how he’s so close, but all that confusion evaporates on the spot when the lights flash on and I take him in.
Down on one knee.
Wearing a lopsided smirk.
And holding up a ring.
A huge cushion-cut pink stone set on a dainty rose gold band. Smaller white diamonds flank the center stone, arranged in a way that looks an awful lot like leaves.
His eyes remind me of leaves.
“We figured you had to have a pink ring,” Cora blurts, practically bouncing on the spot.
From behind Ford, my brother appears. Smirking exactly like I bet he did the last time he played that joke on me.
“Rosalie Belmont—” Ford starts, but I cut him off.
“Don’t Rosalie me. Are you seriously proposing after scaring the shit out of me the way you did as a teenager? You cannot possibly be doing this.”
He grins that grin that makes my stomach flop. Followed by a wink that makes my skin itch. “Loved you then. Love you even more now. If we aren’t driving each other up the wall, what’s even the point?”
My eyes sting, and I blink away to Cora. Her hands are cupping her cheeks, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her appear so… adorably excited.
I cross my arms and lean in to take a closer look at the ring. I’m trying to appear casual, but my cheeks are hot, and my heart is thrashing wildly against my ribs.