Wild Love (Rose Hill, #1)(25)

“Wow.” I comb my fingers through my carefully curled hair. “You really wanted to guilt me about pushing you into the lake last night, huh?”

That gets me a twitch of his cheek and a coy peek from below heavy brows. “Is it working? Do you feel bad?” His eyes flit back down to the screen on the heels of his question.

It’s my turn to stare back at him with a blank look on my face. Because after this revelation, Ford makes me feel a lot of different things..

And bad doesn’t top the list.

Speechless.

Affected.

Confused.

Ford breaks the silence without glancing my way. “When you’re done gawking at me, can you look for a contractor that won’t dick me around on gutting this place? Oh, and I’d like to see your résumé, mostly so I can say I didn’t lie to your parents.”

And I decide I don’t feel bad about pushing him into the lake after all.

Not even a little bit.





Cora looks like an adorable storm cloud stomping out the front doors of the school. Ford was adamant that, as his business manager, I didn’t need to pick Cora up. I pushed back and said it makes it easier for him to work through the afternoon. But the truth is, this daily excursion gives me the break I need from feeling the weight of his gaze on me while I work. And I like Cora. I enjoy her company. She makes me laugh even when I don’t feel like it, so picking her up feels like a treat, not a task.

When she catches sight of me, I lift both hands like I’m about to wave. But instead, I fold my thumbs and fingers together and begin the chicken dance.

When she figures out what I’m doing, her eyes bulge and her steps quicken.

I hook my thumbs under my armpits and start flapping my arms, but Cora is so close now that I can’t hold back my laughter. I don’t know her well enough to tease her like this, but hey, we have to start somewhere.

Someone nearby must be watching us, because right before she draws up in front of me, her head snaps to the side. “What do you think you’re looking at?”

Her eyes narrow on the man, but me? I get the giggles. I don’t recognize him, but I don’t recognize many people in Rose Hill anymore. This place has gone from charming lakeside retreat to bustling mountain town in the past ten years.

“Hi, Cora,” I say calmly as I watch her trudge around the car and practically fall into the passenger seat.

“Hi, Rosie.”

I get in, buckle up, and start the engine to pull out of the parking lot. “How was school today?”

“Fine, until you did the chicken dance at pickup.”

“Do you think all the kids will talk about me tomorrow?” I cast her a teasing look, and I know she’s amused because she does the sullen tween thing of clamping her lips together and turning away to stare out the window.

“You remind me of my dad sometimes. That’s something he’d have done.”

When I realize she doesn’t mean Ford, I pause for a beat but decide there’s no point in tiptoeing. “Yeah? He sounds cool.”

“He was,” is her soft reply as she stares out the glass.

“What was his name?” I ask as I turn out of the pickup loop and head onto the quiet neighborhood street.

“Doug.”

“Well, if Doug would have approved of my chicken dance, I’ll keep doing it.”

Now I get a snort. “Oh yeah. Ford is more like my mom. You’re the Doug in that relationship.”

I point at her. “Except there is no relationship between Ford and me. Just childhood frenemies turned boss and employee.”

Cora gives me a look that says she thinks I’m an idiot. It’s one of her best, most well-practiced expressions, and I admire that about her.

“Frenemies?”

“Yes. It’s the perfect description for us.” My eyes slice in her direction, and she’s back to staring at me like I’m the dumbest person alive.

All it does is make me smile.

“School was actually good, though? You making some friends?”

She shrugs. “Yeah.”

Okay, we’re in one-word-answer territory. We’ll circle back to that another day. Or I’ll take a casual stroll down the halls and see for myself.

“And how about things with Ford?”

He annoyed me today. I thought we were having a moment, a little heart-to-heart over my journal, but then he shut down. And when I gave him my résumé, he scrutinized it thoroughly. Brows drawn low, red pen in hand as he tapped it against his lips. I watched him from my desk. Okay, I glared at him from my desk. Then he literally wrote “HIRED” on the top, walked over to me, and dropped it on my desk with an obnoxious smirk.

Cora shrugs again. “He’s cool.”

“Yeah?” I can’t keep the amusement from my voice. Cool. I love that she sees him that way. So many people never did. He was too cerebral, too quirky. People labeled him a lot of things in this small town, but cool was not one of them. Although I would have never said it, I always thought he was.

She nods. “Yeah. We don’t like…” Her hand swivels before her as she searches for her next words. “Talk a lot? I guess.” A shrug. And silence. I can tell she’s thinking, can practically see the words on the tip of her tongue, so I don’t say anything. I just let her digest.