He shakes his head with a chuckle as he walks out. “Gonna be an interesting summer.”
My phone pings, and my heart rate ramps up as I reach for it.
Rose:Is punishment a kink of yours?
JesusChrist.
Wilder:Good morning. Hope you slept well.
Rose:Is that a toothbrush?
I laugh out loud. “Oh, Jeff. Remind me to give you a raise.”
I’m tempted to tell her that if that doesn’t suit her, she could always use the ripped dress from last night as a rag, but that would be inappropriate.
Wilder:I hear you’re creative.
A minute passes and I wonder if I’ve taken it too far. The cart isn’t in terrible shape. And we do get them washed weekly because of all the dust and rain.
Rose:I’m going to be a little late to the office.
Wilder:You have one hour.
A little over an hour passes when my phone rings and I expect it to be Rose. I push off my chair and reach for it, shaking off the bubble in my gut from getting to hear her voice.
But it’s not her. It’s her brother.
“Hey.” I’ve never had to try to sound nonchalant with my best friend before, so I’m not sure how that came out.
“Please tell me she’s on time today.”
I breathe a sigh of relief that he hasn’t heard anything about last night.
For a reason I can’t settle on, I don’t want him knowing about it. Not yet at least.
“Already working on the first task of the day,” I assure, pleased with myself as I glance out the window for the fifth time in the last few minutes, waiting for her.
He releases a breath. “Ah great, how’s it going?”
“I’ll let you know at the end of the week.”
“That’s a good sign. Well, tell her to stop in for breakfast soon. We’re closing early to get ready for the Randerson Tour, and I don’t exactly have time to run it over to her again.”
I check the time and curse. There’s no way I’m letting Rose skip breakfast because of a dumb golf cart.
I stand, march to my office door, and pull it open. Still no sign of her.
“You there?” Wes asks.
“Uh, yeah. You just worry about the crowd you got comin’ in. I’ll take care of Rose.” The words are innocent, but I can’t help but feel like a sleaze as I say them.
Because I haven’t been able to get my mind off her all morning. All night for that matter.
And not just how she looked in that tattered dress.
Not even the anger that’s still lingering.
But the way her body felt pressed against mine for a brief moment when I carried her out of the bar. The pang of disappointment I felt when I had to set her down.
