Chapter 23 Rosalie
ROSALIE
It’s been a week since my secret sabbatical on the Wilder Ranch, and everything is back to normal. I have my routine. Work. Lunch at the diner. Afternoons and evenings at home with Edward. A few hours before bed with my book and a glass of wine. Sleep and repeat.
My days are predictable.
The only men in my life are fictional.
Jackson hasn’t tried to contact me once.
It’s as if last week never happened, and I should be happy. I should be relieved. But instead, I’m fucking miserable, and it’s all Jackson Wilder’s fault.
I can’t get him out of my mind, and believe me, I’ve tried.
Each day after clocking out of work, I have to keep my car from turning toward the ranch.
Every night when I’m alone in bed, I have to stop myself from remembering his voice, his touch, his scent.
With each book I read, I picture him as the hero—regardless of how the author describes the leading man.
My mind must be broken because I can’t conjure anyone but him.
Even though I don’t want to, I miss him.
I miss him more than I have a right to.
But I have to push through this. I have to re-engage with my regular routines so the memories of him fade, just like they did when we hooked up a year ago.
Which is why I am forcing myself to leave the house tonight and meet up with my friends for our weekly gathering.
I love book club, but half the members are related to the man I’m trying to forget.
To make matters worse, this week’s meeting is being held at Val and Ryan’s house, just a short drive from Jackson’s cabin on the family’s property.
I’m hyperaware of my surroundings as I pass under the Wilder Valley branded archway and enter the ranch. I can’t decide whether I’m hoping to cross paths with Jackson or dreading the possibility. Maybe both. Anxiety tightens my grip on the steering wheel as I turn toward Val’s.
I pull up and park behind the row of vehicles lining the long driveway, and find myself looking for a certain someone. Which is ridiculous! He won’t be here. He has no reason to be. And he won’t be looking for me, not after the way I pushed him away.
Everyone is already gathered on the screened porch, conversation and laughter spilling out as I walk toward the house. The sound eases my nerves. I can do this. Everything is fine. No one knows about the mess inside my head. No one knows about Jackson and me.
“Rosalie! So good to see you.” Val comes over to give me a hug as I join the group. “We missed you!”
I step out of her embrace, appreciative of her warm welcome.
“It’s good to be back.”
“How was your vacation?” Bernadette comes closer, a fancy cocktail in hand and a wide smile on her face. “I haven’t been to San Diego in years. I need to get back for a visit.”
“Yeah.” Maeve joins our little circle and her brows lift as she directs her stare in my direction. “How was your vacation?”
Maybe I imagine the slight aggression in her tone, but either way, it puts me on guard.
“It was fine.”
“How was the beach?”
Everyone stares at me, waiting for my answer. Is this an interrogation?
“It was good.”
“You must have really good sunscreen,” Maeve quips.
“Yeah.” I frown, genuinely confused by this comment. It’s an odd time to discuss skincare.
Maeve continues before anyone has a chance to interrupt. “It’s just that you aren’t tan or sun-kissed the way I’d expect.”
“Knowing our girl, she spent most of the week huddled under an umbrella with her nose in a book.”
I could kiss Asher.
“You know me well.” I smile and force a light laugh.
Everyone is staring. This strange conversation has garnered everyone’s attention.
“What books did you read?” Maeve levels me with a pointed stare. “Any mysteries? Maybe A Cabin in the Woods?”
Oh no. My gut twists. She couldn’t . . .
Maeve lifts an eyebrow, waiting for my answer. She knows.
“What’s going on here?” Val frowns, looking between her sister-in-law and me.
My face feels flush and I swear I stop breathing. This is not happening. I might actually pass out if I don’t force oxygen into my lungs.
“Rosalie, are you okay?” Jamie rushes to my side, offering me a glass of water. “You look like you might be sick.” She’s not wrong.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I got you.” Asher comes to my side, putting an arm around my waist as if he’s worried I might fall. He shoots a frown at the source of my unease. “Maeve, why are you being weird?”
She knows what I did. I don’t know how, but she does.
The accusation is there in her stare, and the truth turns my stomach.
There are some lines you just don’t cross with friends, and I spent a week fucking her little brother.
She might never forgive me for it. She’ll definitely judge me. Hell, everyone else will, too.
My chin quivers, the tiniest of movements, and my eyes silently beg Maeve not to say another word. I can handle her judgment, but not the isolation of being outcast from our friends.
But Maeve’s brows rise, her gaze sweeping over our friends before landing back on me.
“Just that I caught Rosalie over at Jackson’s on Tuesday night.”
“Maeve!” Her name flies from my mouth.
“Rosalie!” She echoes right back.
“You sneaky bitch,” Asher muses, a conspiratorial grin spreading across his lips. “Tell us everything. And I do mean everything.”
Several people laugh. Others grin. The only two people who appear upset by this revelation are myself and Maeve.
Maeve’s hands go to her hips. “Yeah, tell us why I found you at my brother’s house when you were supposedly on vacation.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“So, you didn’t lie? And were you also high as a kite? Or was that just my brother?”
“Not the marijuana!” Asher exclaims, rolling his eyes.
Maeve turns her attention to Asher. “This isn’t a joke.”
“No, Maeve.” Asher hugs me to his side. “This is our friend, a grown woman, who is allowed to do whatever she wants without running her decisions past any of us.”
“Thank you.”
Tears prick my eyes. Even though guilt remains heavy around my heart, Asher’s alliance offers an unexpected olive branch.
He pulls me into his arms for a hug, speaking loudly over my shoulder.
“But she should share with her friends. Because sharing is caring, and there’s nothing happening in my life. I need to live vicariously through your decisions.”
Everyone cheers and laughs.
“Nothing in your life?” I whisper to Asher before stepping out of his embrace. “Really?”
“Hey, now,” He raises an eyebrow and smirks. “No one likes a narc.”
The normal cacophony of book club resumes and I can’t believe that’s it.
I built this up in my mind, but Asher is right—this isn’t the giant deal I’ve made it out to be.
I glance around to find Val and Sarah unwrapping dishes at the serving table.
Bernadette and Jamie pick up plates, filling them with delicious-smelling food.
Asher leaves my side to join the line for dinner, and laughs at something Liv says.
No one cares that I was with Jackson. No one’s paying me any attention. That is, except Maeve.
She makes a beeline to where I’m still standing, and shakes her head. Her words drip with more sadness than outrage.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’re seeing my brother.”
“I’m not.”
Maeve frowns. “Because I thought we were better friends than that.”
She’s hurt. Not that I slept with her brother, but that I didn’t tell her. I don’t quite know what to do with this information.
“I can explain.”
“Okay, explain.”
The conversation around us quiets, and we definitely have an audience. I take a deep breath and tell her a version of the truth.
“I booked a place for my vacation. But the reservation was canceled before I left town, and your brother happened to find me having a minor crash out. You know I don’t leave Edward often, and I was emotional.
He offered for me to stay with him instead.
But—” I hold up my hand and look around the room before everyone draws their conclusions.
“That’s all it was. Him taking pity on a single mom.
He promised not to tell anyone because I asked him not to. ”
“I’m sorry. I assumed. Shit.” Maeve’s brow furrows. “I am so sorry, Rosalie.”
“It’s okay.”
“So, you didn’t sleep with Maeve’s brother? Boring.” Asher calls out, drawing laughter from our crowd.
“Hey.” I shoot him a glare. “I’m not boring.”
“Well, I’m relieved to hear that,” Liv says. “Because I saw Jackson leave The Mud Lounge last Saturday night with Steph’s cousin.”
My heart drops into the pit of my stomach.
He’s already hooking up with someone else. Of course he is.
Somehow, I manage to keep the hurt and disappointment off my face.
“Your brother is a bit of a floozy,” Bernadette tells Maeve.
“I know.” Maeve sighs. “I wish he’d grow up.”
“Eh, growing up is overrated,” Asher scoffs. “It wouldn’t hurt for all of us to make mistakes and fuck up sometimes.”
“Rosalie doesn’t make bad choices. She’s too practical for that,” Maeve tells him.
“I’ve made enough bad decisions to last a lifetime,” I whisper, staring at the floor. “I don’t have room in my life for things that don’t make my life better. Not when I’m a mother.”
“I get that. Believe me, I do.” Maeve reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “But moms deserve to have fun, too.”
The thing is, I did have fun with Jackson, and he did make my life better—we just had an expiration date.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since I left the ranch, but maybe I’m the only one so deeply affected.
He acted so torn up when I drove away, but if what Liv said is true, it sure didn’t take him long to get over me . . . and under someone else.
Maeve interrupts my thoughts. “Since you aren’t into my brother, you’ll be cool with me setting you up?”
“What?” My gaze snaps to hers. “No.”
“Come on, Rosalie. Please let me play matchmaker. I’m so damn good at it.”