Wild Side (Rose Hill #3)

4. Rhys

CHAPTER 4

RHYS

I watched Erika’s sister pack boxes of sentimental belongings into a U-Haul with sagging shoulders and a pale face. I saw her open the front door for a local women’s shelter and let them take away the furniture that was left behind. Then I listened to her tell herself, “Toughen up, because crying won’t solve anything,” through the flimsy wall that divides the duplex.

And since she left three days ago, I have felt like a pile of human garbage. And not only because I’m gutted over the shocking news of Erika’s death. But because I was a fucking dick to her sister.

When Tabitha Garrison showed up on my front doorstep, I was convinced she was just as problematic as Erika made her out to be.

But now? Having watched her?

The woman is heartbreak personified, and I’m not convinced of anything.

Which is why when my lawyer called me saying that Tabitha requested I come see Milo in Rose Hill, I begrudgingly obliged. Still, I decided to lean into the element of surprise and show up unannounced so that I can get a real read on the situation.

I know what it’s like to grow up without parents—without family—and I can’t in good conscience take a child away from his relatives without seeing the situation with my own two eyes.

But I also know that Erika was clear about wanting Milo with me—even if that meant taking him back to my home base in Florida.

And that’s why I’m on the road to a small town called Rose Hill. That’s why I’m doing any of this at all.

For Milo.

The little boy with big dark curls and even bigger blue eyes. He reminds me just a little too much of myself—his entire situation altogether too close to my own.

My navigation pipes up with “Your destination is ahead on the right,” which has me pressing the brake pedal to slow down. I don’t want to roll right up to Tabitha’s house. I want a minute to compose myself. To look around and get the lay of the land.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t here searching for reasons why this is a terrible place for Milo to stay. But the drive wasn’t terrible at all. In fact, the town center is downright charming. Quieter, with less glitz and glam than Emerald Lake.

This is a true mountain town, shadowed by jagged, rocky peaks above, built around the still, dark-blue water of the lake below. It’s rugged and wild, and I bet it gets a fuck-ton of snow in the winter. Even now, in June, there’s a slight chill in the breeze as I step out of my vehicle.

I open the rear door of my truck and grab my worn denim jacket, weighing whether it’s necessary. Eventually, I rationalize that the temperature is just on the edge of needing it.

Deep down, I know that I’m putting off walking the half block up to Tabitha’s house to face an uncomfortable situation.

I grumble and shake my head at myself, then press the lock button on my key fob before turning away and beginning my approach. Trees line the street, their fresh leaves a vibrant green. The sidewalk beneath my feet shows the cracks of time, the odd broken piece where a root has breached the surface. The neighborhood isn’t new, but it’s established. Well-loved.

Every home on the street displays signs of pride and attention, and it makes me wonder if Tabitha’s matches the same level of care. Can a woman who works as obsessively as Erika told me she does have time to keep a yard as meticulous as the others?

If she didn’t have time for her sister, she couldn’t have had time for that kind of thing.

Before I can even see the property, I can hear it. I can hear him .

It hits me hard in the chest, my throat clogging with emotion as the sound filters to my ears.

Laughter.

A little boy’s and a woman’s. One deeper and raspier, the other a high-pitched giggle. And it’s a giggle I know well.

Because he does it with me too.

The woman’s laughter sounds a little too much like Erika on a good day, and the memory has me moving toward the sound without thinking twice.

It only takes me a few tentative steps to have a clear view. Tabitha and Milo are at the base of a large tree, on the lawn of a well-tended yard. Behind them is a quaint craftsman-style home with a sprawling front porch and sizeable windows. White siding and brick pillars that reach from deck to roof add a certain old-world charm to the place. The front door is painted a bright apple-green, which matches the patterned cushions on the patio furniture and the meticulously squared-off hedges that frame the property.

It would appear that Tabitha is perfectly capable of managing her yard.

I turn my attention back to her. She’s on her knees at the base of the tree, speaking in low, even tones to her nephew. And when she raises her hand, I see it—a bright yellow-and-black-striped caterpillar inching across her palm.

“Again!” Milo chants with an excited trill to his voice.

“Of course. But you need to be cool. We don’t want to scare this little guy. Gentle hands, right?” She looks Milo in the eye and doesn’t use some stupid baby voice to relay the information. She talks to him like he understands completely.

And he does. He may only be three, but Milo is an old soul. And with her direction, he goes from wiggling with excitement to taking a deep breath and calmly reaching a steady, chubby hand forward.

“Ready?”

He nods, baby teeth pressing into his bottom lip as though steeling himself. She butts her hand against his, creating a flat expanse where their palms join. The caterpillar inches its way across, and the farther it travels, the bigger Milo’s grin grows.

But me? I can’t take my eyes off his aunt.

The elegant slope of her neck, the way her bare shoulder peeks from the off-kilter neckline of her navy knit sweater. The tips of her breasts create two clear points in the fabric, but I don’t let my eyes linger there. Instead, I move to the silky dark hair that’s effortlessly twisted up and clipped at her crown. Loose pieces tumble free and frame her doll-like face.

But the most attractive thing about Tabitha Garrison might be the way she’s gazing back at Milo, like he’s one of the wonders of the world.

It hurts to watch.

It hurts because I’ll take no pleasure in removing Milo from this place.

But it’s what I promised Erika I’d do.