Chapter 30 Rosalie
ROSALIE
I rouse from a deep sleep, the comfort of my bed and lack of an alarm clock bringing me more joy than it should.
Is there anything better than the weekend?
My eyelids stay shut against the morning sunlight as it slips between the blinds.
My mental state hovers between sleep and awareness, and I think about my characters and how my manuscript has taken a different turn than I originally planned.
Funny, because so has my life. I never intended to let another man into my world, but it happened, and I’m starting to believe—
My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden shift in the mattress.
Oh shit. My eyes fly open. The man sleeping at my side brings back memories of last night. I fell asleep in Jackson’s arms, but I didn’t mean for him to stay over. I grab his arm and jostle him, whispering, “You need to get up!”
“More sleep.”
“Jackson!” I whisper shout, reaching for my phone to check the time. My heart pounds, knowing we don’t have long before he’s discovered. “Get up! Get out! Edward can’t see you!”
“Shit.” Jackson scrubs a hand over his face. His eyes are sleepy as they meet mine. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep over.”
I sit up and practically launch myself from the bed. I gather our clothes from last night and throw them onto the mattress. Anxiety courses through my veins, panic growing as I retrieve a pair of clean pajamas and yank them on.
Jackson’s movements are much slower, and I try not to stare at his gorgeous body as he pulls on his boxer shorts.
“Is it really the end of the world if he finds me here?”
“Yes!” I practically hiss.
I check my reflection in the mirror and wince. Why can’t I wake up looking like a sex god the way Jackson does? My hair is wild and my makeup from last night is smudged, giving me the darkest shadows under my eyes.
Jackson frowns as he steps into his jeans and pulls them over his hips.
“Why don’t I just pretend I’m here to take you to breakfast?”
“You can’t.” I hand him his shirt, still whispering.
“Why not?”
“Because I have plans.” My stomach aches. Shit. I didn’t get to tell him about my date with Clint. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk—”
“Mama?” The door handle to my bedroom jostles aggressively. “Mama, why’s your door locked?” Edward pounds on the door.
“Coming, baby! Give me a minute!” I call to my son. My mind races as I frantically look around the room. “You have to go.”
I push Jackson toward the window, feeling slightly guilty. I hope he understands I’m not prepared to have a conversation with Edward about why Jackson’s in my bedroom. Especially when we haven’t even defined our relationship.
Jackson opens the blinds, his movements unhurried. He slides the window open easily and braces his hands on the edge.
“Give me, like, five minutes and I’ll leave your wallet and keys on the porch,” I whisper, as he jumps up and over the windowsill. “Hide in the bushes until then.”
“Hide in the bushes?” He turns back and leans inside to steal a kiss. “You’re really gonna make me do the walk of shame? What will the neighbors think?” There’s a hint of a smile on Jackson’s face.
“Mama! I’m hungry. When can we have breakfast?”
“Go!” I wave Jackson away and slide the window closed behind him. I’m relieved he’s being so good-natured about this. I put the blinds back then hustle to the door, but my toe catches on the edge of my bedpost.
Pain shoots up my leg. “Fuck!”
“Mama, we’re not supposed to say that word.”
“I’m aware!”
I hop on my good foot, and ignore the tingling sensation that tinges with pain.
The skin around my baby toe is already swelling.
I really hope I didn’t break it. The last thing I have time for today is a trip to urgent care.
Right now, I need to focus on what’s most pressing.
Forcing a smile in place, I open the door to greet my son and start the day.
Some days are a mess from the start. Today is one of those. From smuggling a grown man out my window to Edward having a meltdown when he couldn’t find the remote to the mini drone Jackson bought him the day before, nothing goes right.
It’s one thing after another, and by the time I shower and dress, I’m rushing to drop Edward off at Maeve’s to make it to my date with Clint. I consider calling Jackson, but I don’t have more than a few minutes to myself in the car, and besides, I’d much prefer to have that conversation in person.
Which is why I decide I’m driving straight to the ranch as soon as I sort things out with Clint.
My belly is a bundle of nerves as I pull into the diner parking lot.
I take the first empty spot, which happens to be next to Clint’s truck.
He’s waiting outside, leaning against the bumper with a kind smile on his attractive face.
Guilt tumbles inside my gut as I exit my vehicle to join him. I walk slowly as not to aggravate my bruised and swollen toe. I picked comfortable closed-toe shoes, thinking they’d offer better support, but I’m not sure whether it’s helping or hurting.
“Hi, Rosalie!” Clint steps forward to greet me as I come around my parked car.
“Hi, Clint.” I lift my hand to wave in case he tries to go in for a hug. I don’t want to give the wrong impression, especially when I’m about to break things off before they start. “How are you?”
“Good. I’m really glad we could do this again,” he says as we walk to the diner. “I’ve got to be honest. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”
Damn it. I kinda hate Maeve right now. She’s the one who insisted on setting us up, and Clint is such a nice guy. A perfectly fine date. But none of that matters when I’m thinking about the cowboy I shoved out my window this morning. I stop walking.
“Clint, I’m not ready for this.”
“Brunch?”
“I think we should be friends. I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry, I went and fell for someone else.
“It’s okay.” Clint shakes his head. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“I just don’t want to lead you on, and I was worried that I did.”
“It’s all good, Rosalie. You don’t owe me anything, and honestly, I enjoy your company.
If something more came about, great, but I went into this with zero expectations.
You know, I realized the other day I don’t have many friends who aren’t married.
And those who are don’t have kids. It’s nice to talk to someone who understands single parent life.
Besides, if I move here, my kid is gonna need a friend too. ”
“Thanks for understanding.” Relief courses through my body. All the worry I had about hurting Clint or letting him down releases.
“Thanks for getting me back out there. I’d still love to take you to eat if that’s okay? As friends?”
“I’d really like that.”
We continue walking toward the diner, and Clint steps ahead to open the door for me.
“Thanks.” I smile at him and step inside, my gaze scanning the busy diner for familiar faces.
Surprise slams into my chest at the last person I expect to see. Because across the room, my eyes lock with none other than Jackson Wilder. He’s sitting in a booth across from his brother, Aiden. Of course he is.
“Right this way,” our server chirps.
“After you.” Clint’s kind voice draws my attention back to him for a second.
I can hardly focus as I follow our server to the empty table at the window. My gaze darts back to Jackson. He no longer looks happy to see me. Correction—he looks as if he’d like to rip the menu in Clint’s hand to pieces.
I can’t believe this is happening. It’s such a stupid misunderstanding, and one that could have been avoided.
Last night, I wanted to talk to Jackson about a lot of things, including this date and how it means nothing, but I put it off for more entertaining activities.
It seemed like the best choice at the time, and maybe it was. But now I’m not so sure. Well, shit.