My eyes narrow to the passenger seat. The girl I haven’t seen in six years is silhouetted by the dipping sun. Her face is turned down and to the side like she’s looking for something—her profile as sharp as the glass she’s behind. She flips the visor down, looking up at the tiny mirror as she applies something on her nose and cheekbones. Probably sunscreen.
Wes pulls three giant suitcases from the back.
I can only imagine what they each contain. Stylish jeans and dresses, a variety of boots she’ll complain about getting dirty, maybe a set of organic cotton sheets.
“Need some help?” I call without movement.
Rose emerges from the truck, a backpack slung over her shoulder and a pair of sunglasses perched over her nose.
Her hair is dark brown, falling in long, silky waves over her shoulders. She’s small, with a deceptively delicate frame. Because from what I remember about this wild Rose, she’s anything but delicate. She doesn’t face me when she steps out—she faces the river, or maybe it’s the mountains behind it that catch her attention.
Or hell, maybe it’s just her being a brat.
Judging by the annoyed look on my best friend’s face—and the defiant tilt of her chin—I can tell there was a fight on the way over.
Fuckinggreat.
Wes comes around and mutters something that gets no reaction out of her.
I imagine it was something like “Behave” or “Don’t embarrass me.”
I can’t help but scan her once more. Even if it is her backside I’m getting. Other than her longer hair, she doesn’t appear to have grown much since I last saw her. She barely reaches Wes’s shoulder, let alone my towering six-foot-four frame. She looks about as suited for ranch work as a kitten in a dog pen.
Wes climbs the steps of my porch, putting on a smile for me. Albeit a tight smile, but credit to him for trying.
I smirk, patting his back as he reaches me. “Rough ride?”
He sighs. “Just got a call from the kitchen. Jack needs help packin’ up the take-home meals tonight. I was hoping to give Rose a quick tour before showing her to the cottage.”
I follow his gaze. Something tells me that’s not the only reason he’s ditching her right now. She’s still watching the fields like we’re not over here talking about her. “Remind me why I’m doing this?”
“Because you need help around here and she’s available—and to help me out. Honestly, if she didn’t come back here with me, I’d have seriously considered moving to New York.”
I frown at this new information.Wesconsideredleaving?
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“Good thing I didn’t have to.” He winks and slaps my shoulder. “Ro,” Wes calls, waving her over.
I catch her shoulders lift, a sharp inhale that promises a sigh, but then she stops—like time catches her mid-motion. Her headturns toward us, and for a heartbeat, everything stills. Slowly, deliberately, her shoulders fall with a soft exhale, and she pushes her sunglasses up onto her head.
Pouty, bee-stung lips part slightly, and my mouth goes dry.
With a hard swallow, I tear my gaze off them—meeting her eyes—and it’s not any better.
“Hell,” I growl low at the sight.
Maybe it’s the way the sun hits her, or the way those dark silky locks frame that round face, but fuck, her eyes are striking. They’re green, like I remember, but packed with raw, magnetic intensity.
Closing her mouth with a swallow, Rose scans me. And I’m not sure if she’s deciding if she could take me in a wrestling match .?.?. or checking me out.
Something tells me that’s a package deal with Rose.
You’ll never truly know what goes on in her head.
“You say something?” Wes asks.
“Uh .?.?. was she always this .?.?. small?”
