Wild Love (Rose Hill, #1)(17)

Then he has to ruin it all by talking.

“What do you want? Cora is finally in school, and I have a pile of work to get done. I’m too busy to take a torturous stroll down memory lane with you right now.”

Yep, that’ll do it. Hot Ford transforms into Dickhead Ford so damn easily. I’m about to toss my lukewarm tea in his face just to surprise him, but I remind myself I’m here with an idea.

A great idea.

An idea that I really need to work because as it turns out job openings in Rose Hill are few and far between.

“I have a proposition for you.”

He lifts his sunglasses onto the top of his dark, mussed hair and furrows his brow in my direction as he breezes past.

“That sounds terrifying,” he mumbles as he slides a key into the worn wooden door’s deadbolt.

“No, it’s perfect.” I follow him into the dusty, dank building. “Trust me. It’s a business proposition. And you can’t say no.”

That has him turning to face me, his notable height causing me to come to a screeching halt in the entryway. He pulls his sunglasses off his head and gently chews on the plastic bit at the end of the metal arm.

It should be gross.

But I find it appealing.

“You hungry or something?” I cross my arms and cock a hip out. I feel like a bratty teenager around him. It’s annoying that he brings out this side of me.

Except the way his eyes rake over my body feels nothing like when we were teenagers.

His face stays impassive while mine heats to an inferno.

“I can’t say no?” He ignores my dig and bites down on the plastic again. “That doesn’t sound like a very smart business decision.”

I swallow again, but this time my throat is entirely dry, and it makes my mouth feel like it’s full of cotton. “Oh, no, trust me. This will be a very smart business decision.”

“Right. You’d never trick me. Would you, Rosalie?”

I roll my eyes and note the cobweb in the corner when I do. “Please, I’m not a kid anymore.”

His eyes drag down and back up my body again before he sighs and looks over his shoulder at the stack of files on the rough-hewn table serving as a makeshift desk. “Don’t I know it.”

Everything he says sounds so snarky. It immediately gets my hackles up, but I can’t go back to ragging on him until I get this locked down.

“I have an MBA. I wouldn’t corner you into making a poor business decision.”

His dark green eyes are back on me now, assessing. “Okay.”

I blink a few times. “Okay?”

“You told me I couldn’t say no.” A charming dimple pops up on his left cheek, but just a flash. There for a moment and gone.

Standing taller, I step toward him and take a deep breath, eyeing his scuffed boots until I draw my gaze up to meet his forest-green stare. His scent wraps around me. Cedar. No, sandalwood. I’m not sure. Trees. Wood. The scent of the incense I burned during my hippie phase. And something fresher, brighter.

With a shake of my head, I blurt out my plan. “You should hire me.”

He blinks and slowly pulls his sunglasses from his mouth as his eyes bounce between my own. I lift my chin high and stare back at him, refusing to back down.

“I can be your assistant. Or whatever. Something? I’ll clean up the cobwebs. I’m a wizard in Excel. Good—no great—with budgets. Who knows, maybe I can make you into a trillionaire? Or I can help with Cora! Busy frowning and staring at your bank account balance? No problem! I’ll pick her up from school.”

He continues to stare, his features giving nothing away. I should have been nicer about my offer. Maybe. No, definitely. Time stretches, and my tongue darts out over my bottom lip as my confidence wanes and nerves set in.

His gaze follows the tip of my tongue almost in slow motion.

His throat bobs, and he repeats the best word in the world. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He shrugs and crosses his arms, biceps bulging against the thin fabric of his worn shirt. “Remember the part where you just told me I couldn’t say no?”

I nod. “Still expected you to be a dick and do it anyway.”

His lips tip up and he shakes his head as he turns and moves away from me. “Rosalie, when have I ever said no to you?”

And I just stand here, stunned.

I need a ride home from this party. I want to be alone.

I need a job.

Because try as I might, no matter how big of a dick he’s been, I can’t come up with a single instance of Ford ever telling me anything other than okay.





CHAPTER EIGHT


ROSIE





I lean against the side of my car in front of Rose Hill Middle School. It’s not quite warm yet in early spring but leaning against black paint in a direct sunbeam is a fantastic way to fool myself into feeling like it is.

When Ford mentioned pickup time, I immediately offered to head out. That barn fucking stinks, and when I suggested he might want to hire a professional contractor to bring it into this century, he stopped talking to me. Like the sulky boy I remember. Even though he knows I’m right.

That’s why I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Too much tension. A knot in my stomach that’s making me second-guess my qualifications for this position. The memory of how my last job ended—that maybe I wasn’t hired for my capabilities at all. I needed some room to breathe. Away from Ford. Breathing is always harder around him. Which is also why I’m here early.