Third Time's a Charm

Bouncing the baby in her arms, Rose placed kisses along her cheeks. “On my desk.”

A couple of minutes later, Skye handed Rose her keys back and kissed Ivy on the head. “I’ll see you Friday.”

“Great.” Now she only had to find a last minute babysitter. Gabriel’s mother had offered before, but Rose had turned her down. Maybe she should call her later and ask if the offer still stood.

“It shouldn’t be too hard to for him to dress as holier-than-thou. He’s got the market cornered,” Skye tossed out over her shoulder.

“Look, he apologized about what happened between him and Summer. Stop holding a grudge.”

“Whatever,” Skye muttered.

Rose snapped. “God forbid you ever have to deal with people not liking you. Or thinking the worst of you. And I believe I speak for all of us that don’t have that luxury by saying: kiss my butt.”

Skye stopped mid-stride and whirled around, her hazel eyes huge. “How do you know what people think of me? Or you? All you and Summer have ever done is assume the worst.”

“Summer and I never assumed. We were reminded day after day.” Grabbing a blanket from a nearby basket, Rose spread it out on the floor and placed the baby on it.

“You never talk to anyone, not even me. You never go out. You have no friends, Rose. None.”

Turning to Skye, she said, “When am I supposed to make friends? Should I do it before or after work? Before or after taking care of Ivy? Before or after paying for you to go to school, the light bill, the food bill, or car insurance? Before or after working my ass off cleaning someone else’s house? Making it look beautiful while ours rots. While I can’t afford to pay someone to fix it because they want more than money. Because no decent man around here will look at me twice. All you do is smile and the town’s doctor is panting after you, ready to jump as high as you tell him. He’s taking you out, helping you keep someone else’s kid, and most important of all, Tristan’s not dating you because he made a bet with his buddies that he could make the ice princess thaw.”

Rose slapped her hand over her mouth, horrified. She’d never told anyone about that stupid bet Jason had made. The one she’d “accidentally” found out about on their last date when one of his buddies stopped by the table to pay up, after Jason broken things off with her. She’d been unable to say a thing, too mortified to make a scene in such a nice restaurant.

“Rose, I didn’t know.” Skye ran back to her, giving her a tight hug. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing,” Rose said softly. “Besides, it was a long time ago.”

“A year and a half isn’t that long,” Skye reminded her.

No, no it wasn’t. “Water under the bridge, honey. Now go spend time with your man.” It was easy to forgive Skye or anyone else she loved. Maybe if she actually took the time to talk to her, then they would have more insight into each others’ lives.

“Call me,” Skye said as she left.

“I will,” Rose said and she meant it. She scooped up a very sleep Ivy and headed to her office.

She laid the baby down for her afternoon nap, and gently shut the door. As she started to turn, something caught her by the arm and spun her around. Her heart bungy-jumped to her toes, hitting her throat on the bounce back up.

“Sasha,” she gasped, her heart pounding. With adrenaline or happiness, she wasn’t sure.

Before she could stop him, he pulled her flush against his body. His palm slowly slid up her spine and cupped the back of her head. Mesmerized by the fierce longing in his eyes, she allowed him to rub his thumb across her bottom lip.

“I’ve missed you, Rosebud.” Sasha covered her mouth with his.

Chapter Fourteen

Sasha was kissing her. Right here, right now in her store. After being gone forever and a day. After making her cry, and—

“Kiss me back,” he murmured and sealed his mouth over hers again, his tongue slipping past the defenses of her lips and seemingly daring her to bite him as it coasted over her teeth.

She gripped his arms, the lean muscles gathering and bunching under hands. For a moment she melted against him, rubbed her body along the hard planes of his and reveled in the low sounds he made in his throat. How their lips moved in perfect synchronization, like old lovers.

Digging her fingers into his arms, she tore her mouth away and shoved. Hard.

He stumbled back. “Rose.”

She took in great gulps of air, her breasts rising and falling. And, damn him, he wasn’t even following the movements. He was too busy staring at her face.

Sasha started for her again.

The bells on the door rang and he froze.

Skye walked in with Ivy’s diaper bag and a huge smirk on her face. “I’m really sorry to have interrupted your reunion, but I left this in Tristan’s truck.” Turning to Sasha she asked, “Is everything okay with your family?”

His brows drew together. “My family?”

Skye’s smile contracted. “Rose said you had a family emergency.”

He looked at Rose and she lifted her chin, daring him to call her a liar. Finally, he settled his gaze back on Skye. “Sorry, still recovering from jet lag. My mother’s stable. Thank you for asking.” He almost looked like he was telling the truth.

“What’s wrong with her?” Rose asked before she could stop herself.

He stared over her shoulder. “She’s been in a coma for the past seven years. And she’s not getting any better. Or any worse for that matter.”

“What about your dad?” Skye asked.

Sasha glanced at Rose, found her watching him and quickly turned, but not before she’d seen the emotion on his face. She wanted to comfort him, wanted to take away the pain she’d witnessed in his eyes, but she couldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever.

“He was killed in a car crash when I was eighteen.”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Skye’s expression turned thoughtful. “Have you ever considered—”

Oh God, not this. The last thing Sasha would want to hear about is Skye’s theories on holistic medicine. “Not now, Skye,” Rose said, holding up her hand.

“Fine,” Skye huffed. “I need to go anyway. Class at four, then work at seven.”

Rose waited until everyone had said their good-byes and Skye was halfway down the street before she turned to the man she had wanted to kick out of her store. Her house. Her life.

She reached for her necklace, but settled for the space over her heart. “Why are you here if your mother is sick?”

“There’s nothing I can do for her.”

“Is somebody else in your family taking care of her?”

“She’s in a long-term care facility.”

“Still, she needs family.”

“Her needs are being met,” Sasha ground out.

“It’s not the same,” she insisted.

Their eyes met, hers beautifully blue and full of questions, but he refused to elaborate. Rose would never understand. Hell, the less she understood the better off she was. “I brought cheesecake,” Sasha said, gesturing at the bag on the counter and smiling brilliantly. Running a hand through his hair, the small lump on his head painfully throbbed when he touched it.

Rose’s dark brows raised fractionally. “Is that supposed to be your apology?”

“Yes.” But he was quite sure that it would take more than dessert to make it up to her. “I’d like for you to be my date for the fundraiser to make up for missing our date this weekend.”

Pale cheeks turned pink before his eyes. “Um.” She licked her lips.

This was not the reaction he’d been expecting from her. He would’ve thought she’d yell at him or kick him out of the house by now. Jason Everett had been right about one thing: Rose was an exception to every rule.

“I can’t.”

“You can,” he said, leaning his hip against the counter. “I’ll kick out the first asshole that so much as looks at you wonky-eyed.”

“It’s not that,” she said after long moments of hesitation.

Relief filled him. For a dark moment, he thought she had a date. “Fantastic. I’m going as a stunningly handsome—and let’s be perfectly honest—fashionable man in black. You?”

“A date.”

He wobbled his head from side to side, pushing out his lips a little and scratching his chin. “I reckon I can change my costume. Perhaps go as a bowl and carry you around all night, shall I?” He’d rather hoped she would have picked something sexier. There had to be a law somewhere that said women had to dress in the most erotic way possible on the thirty-first of October.

She shook her head, her pretty curls dancing around her head. “No, I’m not going as a date. I have a date.”

His mouth dropped. He couldn’t help it. Severe jealousy stabbed him in the heart along with the panic of losing her. No, not her, the opportunity to find the right damn spring. If she was distracted by another man, then she couldn’t spend time with him and he couldn’t earn back her trust. “With whom?”

“Gabriel Edwards.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why?” Her stubborn chin tilted as she crossed her arms. “He’s too good for someone like me?”

Sasha silently counted to ten and then did it twice more before he answered. “He’s nothing like what you deserve.” The temperature in the store suddenly felt as if it had gotten twenty degrees cooler. He shivered, but Rose didn’t appear to be affected at all. In fact, her pretty eyes fairly blazed at him.

“You mean someone like you—a liar and a user? That’s what you think I deserve?”

“Don’t twist my words.” His breath came out in steady white puffs of air as he spoke.

“Says the man who twists everything to his advantage.”

If only she knew what a disadvantage his entire life was. If only she could see his mother, laying helpless and colorless in a hospital with a gun in her mouth. If , if, if.

Rage filled him, heating his body until the goose bumps that had begun to dot his skin disappeared and his hands clenched into fists. He jerked his gaze around the room until he found the thermostat and strode to it, nearly breaking the plastic tab as he shoved it to seventy–five.

“Leave my things alone,” she said, ducking under his arm and wresting his hand away.

The back of her sweater collided with the front of his shirt. He cupped her shoulders to steady them both, but it only served to throw him off-balance. He had the insane notion to sweep her hair aside and drink in the jasmine perfume she wore behind her ears. To nibble on her neck until breathy moans filled the air.

Another blast of cold air hit him and he dropped his hands as if he’d been scalded. “While your Holland hocus-pocus seems to scare everyone else, might I remind you that not only am I wholly unimpressed, but you’ve Ivy to consider.”

She stiffened her spine. “And let me remind you, Alexander, that who I choose to spend time with is none of your concern.”

He made an inarticulate noise and turned on his heel, marching to the door he didn’t remember leaving open, and out of her store.

***

The last person Sasha expected to see sitting on the sofa with Rose was Gabriel Edwards. Her bloody date to his party. His party. And the son of a bitch was holding Ivy.

The baby stared at the man holding her in his arms, her little mouth puckered. His clever girl was not happy.

Rose gave Gabriel one of her rare smiles and it took all of Sasha’s self-control not to walk in there and bodily throw Gabriel out of the house. Breathing deeply, pressed the heel of his hand against his chest and rubbed. The last time she’d smiled at him he’d run like a first-rate coward out of her house.

Walking up behind them, he cleared his throat. Ivy looked up at him, her puckered lips spreading into a toothless smile while Rose and Gabriel jumped apart like teenagers caught making out by their parents.

Sasha leaned over and plucked Ivy out of Gabriel’s arms before anyone could say a word. Ivy raised her brows and he kissed her on the nose. “Hullo, darling.”

Rose looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sasha gently bounced Ivy and smiled at her, ignoring Rose’s irritated expression. “Has Aunt Rose fed you? I’m starving.” He walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, looking for a bottle of formula to heat.

Rose’s footsteps sounded behind him.

“I’ve already fed her and you can’t just waltz in here like—”

“Like I live here?” he supplied, hitting the door with his elbow and turning around.

Briefly, Rose impersonated a fish gasping for air, then held out her arms. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to hug him. However, she wasn’t wielding a knife in order to cut out his heart and feed it to Blackbeard. Speaking of which, where was that damn cat? Usually the beast tried to trip Sasha as soon as he walked in the door.

Taking Ivy from him, she gave him the smallest smile he’d ever seen. “I fixed a plate for you. It’s on the second shelf of the fridge.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I’m sorry, love.”

“For not being here when I cooked?” she asked, tilting her head to the side in an attempt at guilelessness, but he wasn’t fooled. “It’s not required in your lease.”

Lowering his chin, he looked at her from under his brows and crossed his arms. “That, too. But actually, I was referring to Friday night—the whole damn weekend—” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">