“Book boyfriends?”
“Besides, she’s a very private person, and I don’t see her letting someone in. Especially not you.”
“You’re making it sound like I’m a bad guy.”
“I didn’t say that. But you aren’t really known for settling down. Or monogamy. And my friend deserves someone who makes her life better. Not complicated and messy.”
“Damn. Okay.” I’m more irritated than I have a right to be. Maeve’s not wrong. It’s not as if I’ve ever had a steady girlfriend, or have any intention of changing that. I get what my track record says about me. Still. It doesn’t stop me from wanting Rosalie. Her vehicle comes into view as I close in on my place. “I gotta run.”
“Jackson.” Maeve draws out my name.
“Yeah?” I pull my truck next to Rosalie’s and put the gear shift in park.
“Stay away from her.” My sister sighs. “Promise me.”
That’s not really a promise I can make, what with her living in my house for the next week. “You’ve made your point,” I tell my sister, maybe a little too sternly.
“You know I love you.”
“Yeah, I love you, too.” I know she does. We say our goodbyes and I end the call, checking my reflection in the rear mirror before I open the door and hop down from the cab.
It’s strange, knowing there’s someone inside my house, waiting for me at the end of the day. I mean, she’s not waitingfor me, per se. She’s probably dreading the moment I return. Is it bad that the idea of a little verbal sparring puts a bounce in my step as I make my way toward the house?
I remember Ryan’s advice as I pass the wildflowers growing near my porch steps, and stoop to pick a handful. When I step inside, I look around, hoping to see my house guest. I take off my boots by the door. I need a shower, but when I glance out the kitchen window, I notice Rosalie reading in the hammock out back. Wanting to talk to her, I slip my feet into an old pair of sneakers and head out the back.
“Hey.” I lift my hand in greeting when she lifts her gaze at my approach.
“Hey.” She closes her book and sits up, swinging her feet off the hammock to steady herself on the ground.
“These are for you.” I shove the misshapen bouquet her direction. “I saw them and thought of you.” That’s sweet without being too much, right?
She frowns as she accepts them. “Thanks?”
Her reaction is not at all favorable, and I feel a bit like a fool. Fucking Ryan. I should know better than to take advice from my older brother.
“Don’t tell me you have something against flowers.”
“What if I do?”
“That’s ridiculous.” I stare at the bouquet in her hands and frown. They’re not all that impressive. In her hands, with the roots still attached to several, they appear more like weeds. I flash her the smile that has gotten me out of many awkward situations. “Every woman loves getting flowers.”
She pushes to her feet and shakes her head as she laughs.
“What?”
“Does this work for you?” She motions from me to the flowers. “You what, decided to pull these on your way inside and I’m supposed to what, fall on your dick later in appreciation?”
My jaw falls open, and I feign shock. I mean, it’s not all that far off. Sure, my main objective was to cheer her up. But did I think the gesture would help get in her good graces and maybe lead to some extracurricular fun? Hell, yeah.
“I was trying to brighten your day.” I reach to take back the flowers. “Give me those.”
She pulls them away. “No. These are mine. You gave them to me.”
“Oh, so now you like the flowers?”
“They’re a little sad.” She shrugs. “Like me.”
“They just need some water.”
