Losing Romeo (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

File after file went into the shredder, the grinding noise so loud Rosaline could hardly think. Which was good. Because she didn’t want to think about how last night over the phone, after she’d told her parents about the wreck, Dad had said it might be time for her to come home.

She’d finally learned to like it here in Arkansas—might even have a really good reason to stay—and Dad decided maybe he’d been too rash sending her away. She did want to see Clara and her other friends again. The beach. Even Mom and Dad.

But what I felt yesterday with Bryson...

Her stomach got that fresh-from-the-rollercoaster feeling. She’d tried to convince herself staying friends was the way to go, but now she knew she wanted more.

What if he doesn’t? What if he only thinks of me as a friend?

“Earth to Rosaline.” Dafne snapped her fingers in front of her face. “That file’s jammed.”

Rosaline reached down and pushed the reverse button. The paper came back up, all chewed and mangled. “Sorry. I guess I got distracted.”
Thinking about Bryson.

“Um, sorry to interrupt,” Bryson said, appearing in the open office doorway.

Rosaline was so happy to see him she thought about jumping out of her chair and hugging him.

“I thought I’d check in and see if you guys need anything before I head out to the east side and fix the fence.”

Rosaline sat up, dying to ask to go with him, even though she had no clue what fixing fence involved.

“We’re fine, thank you,” Dafne said.

“I’ll see you ladies later, then.”

Her heart tugged as he neared the door.

He hesitated in the doorway, gripping the frame in a way that made the muscles in his arm and back stand out. “You know, I could use a hand. Nothing too hard, just helping hold nails, the wire, that kind of thing.” He looked at Dafne. “If you could spare Rosaline—”

“She could.” Rosaline shot out of her seat. “You can, right?”

“You’d rather do manual labor than filing?”

“With Bryson, yeah.” Heat filled her cheeks as she’d realized how that desperate that sounded.

Dafne tapped a pen to her lips. “I’m not sure you should be out riding around in your condition.”

“I’m fine, I swear. My leg’s even better.” It looked ugly, with a bruise on it the size of Texas, but she could walk on it without flinching today.

“I’ll keep a close eye on her.” Bryson put his hand on her back, the contact sending heat through her entire body. “We’ll take my truck instead of the horses, and I’ll drive slow.”

“Oh, all right,” Dafne said with a sigh. “I guess someone should be outside enjoying this nice day.”

Rosaline gripped Bryson’s arm and started for the door. “Thanks, love ya, bye.”

***

Rosaline sat on the tailgate of Bryson’s truck, swinging her legs. Bryson tossed the supplies into the bed of the truck—they clanged together, making a racket that vibrated through her eardrums—then boosted himself next to her, making the truck dip.

“So, that’s fixing fence, huh?” She leaned back on her hands, tipping her face to the sky and took a deep breath of earthy-smelling air. “I bet you’re
so
glad I was here to help.”

“You helped,” Bryson said.

She gave him a sidelong glance. “Every time I tried to, you told me I should take it easy, like I’m a grandma or something.”

“No, like you were in a wreck two days ago”—he raised a mocking eyebrow—“or something. Besides, now you know the basics. Next time, I’ll put you to work. Then we’ll see how well you were paying attention.”

She laughed. “Guess I should’ve taken notes.”

For a moment, they sat in peaceful silence, her legs still occasionally swinging through the air. Bryson took a drink from his water bottle and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Been meaning to ask how the phone call with your parents went yesterday.”

“It was…okay. We don’t agree on anything, as usual, but they didn’t yell like I thought they would.”
Instead they’re trying to uproot my life again.

If she told Bryson they’d talked about her going back to Verona, would he push her away again? Would he be sad? Maybe his reaction would tell her if she was being stupid for wanting to stay to be with him.

His phone rang, scattering her thoughts. He dug it out, glanced at the display, then answered. “Yeah?”

His eyebrows lowered further and further with whatever the person on the other line was telling him. “What a waste.” He exhaled. “No, I get it.” Pause. “I’ll pack and get over there.”

He ended the call and slid off the back of the truck. “Apparently the manager in Wichita—the one I just helped train, up and quit today. I’ve got to go fix the mess and make sure she didn’t take any money on the way out.”

Reality sunk in, shoving out all the carefree, happy vibes. “Which means you’re flying to Kansas.”

“Winslow booked me on a flight tonight so I could be there first thing tomorrow. Looks like I get to work all weekend.” He put his hands on the sides of her waist and helped her down.

Her pulse quickened, and the world got a little spinny. She looked into his eyes, trying to get up the courage to tell him she wanted more.

I should just kiss him.

Only after I kiss guys, they ignore me.

“I wish you didn’t have to go.” Okay, so it was the wussy version of what she wanted to say, but at least it was something.

“I’ll be back in a couple days—a week at most.”

Right now, with everything up in the air between them, that seemed like forever.

***

Bryson dragged his suitcase down the stairs. He rolled it toward the office, planning on telling the girls goodbye—he wanted to see Rosaline once more before he left. Finally things felt right between them. Like maybe she felt the same way. There were hints, but he almost didn’t want to believe it. Because if he was wrong…

He blew out his breath, trying to send his nervousness out with it. It didn’t work.

As he neared the office, he caught sight of Rosaline, a vase of flowers in her hand. “They’re from Sam. He said he heard about the wreck, he hopes I get well soon and…” She lowered the card. “And that’s pretty much it.” Her too-high guilty tone said that wasn’t it. He’d written something more.

Bastard. Sending flowers with a love note.

“I wonder how he even knew about the wreck,” Rosaline said. “I haven’t talked to him since we had lunch.”

“In Lowell, news spreads faster than wildfire,” Dafne said.

“Right. I learned that when I was eating lunch with him. Everyone was telling me that I was dating ‘their Sam.’ Like he belonged to the town. And one old lady pretty much threatened me not to hurt him.”

Bitterness churned in Bryson’s stomach. Of course she didn’t feel the same way. She was dating Sam Webster, prissy boy suck-up who sent flowers and won hearts of old ladies.

He turned and strode out the door, kicking it closed behind him. It was probably a good thing he was going to Wichita. Because what he wanted to do was drive into town, find Sam Webster, and tell him to stay the hell away from Rosaline.

And the last time he’d done something like that, it hadn’t gone so well.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Rosaline looked at the mangled thing in front of her that didn’t come close to resembling a bracelet. She bit her lip and looked at Leanne. “I think I screwed it up. Like irreversibly.”

Leanne put down the pair of earrings she was working on. “I’m sure it’s not that—” Her eyes widened as they landed on the bracelet. Since she was, like, the nicest girl ever, though, she quickly put on a smile. “We can fix it.”

“I don’t know how you do it. You make it look so easy.”

“Lots and lots of practice.”

Cases of jewelry sat stacked all around Leanne’s room. “That many people really come into town?” Rosaline asked.

“We get people from three counties. Most everyone who’s ever lived here comes back for it. You don’t miss Mudtown Days.”

“If you do, is your name Mud?” Rosaline laughed at her own joke.

It took Leanne a minute; then she gave Rosaline a sympathy laugh. “Exactly.”

Apparently, I really
am
as strange as Bryson accuses me of being.

Of course, that’s why he finds me so irresistible. I hope.
One of the reasons she’d jumped at the chance to hang with Leanne was to stop driving herself crazy with the does he or doesn’t he like me more than a friend question.

“You wanna take a break?” Leanne asked. “Walk around town and get some fresh air?”

“Sure.” The thing keeping her from shouting for joy over walking around was the fact that Sam was out there somewhere. She needed to thank him for the flowers, but she wasn’t sure what to say to him. With her feelings about Bryson growing stronger and stronger, she didn’t want to lead Sam on—she knew all too well how that felt.

But it wasn’t like she felt
nothing
toward Sam, and Bryson had left without saying goodbye.

I still can’t believe he didn’t pop into the office before he left,
she thought as she and Leanne started down the sidewalk, away from Leanne’s house
. Wouldn’t he say goodbye if he did like me?

Frustration boiled through her and she wanted to scream.

“What’s up?” Leanne slowed. “You look like you’re waging an internal war.”

As nice as Leanne was, she was also too close to the situation to talk to about it. Namely, too close to Sam.

Why’d Clara’s family have to choose this week to go to Hawaii?
The girl was impossible to reach right now, not that Rosaline blamed her for being too busy soaking up the sun to bother with email. She desperately needed advice, though. Then again, Clara’s advice about Romeo hadn’t worked out so well. Or maybe it had, in an unexpected, roundabout way.

Leanne was still staring, eyebrows raised, so Rosaline searched for something to say. “How did you know Billy liked you? I mean, weren’t you friends before you started dating? How’d that happen?”

A love-struck expression made its way across Leanne’s face. “Well, he started paying me special attention. Like when we’d be out, he’d get my drink—that kind of thing.”

That’s not really helpful. Bryson pays special attention to me because I’m the only one around. And we never go out, so I’ve got no idea if he’d get my drink.

“Oh and he’d call me just to talk.”

Five days have gone by, and Bryson hasn’t called me once.

“Finally—it was that first night you came to Weekends actually—he pulled me onto the floor and told me that I should agree to be his girlfriend.” Leanne’s smile got even bigger.

“So he told you he liked you. You didn’t have to guess?”

“I had clues, but I wasn’t sure-sure until he came out with it.” Leanne moved closer to her as they passed a couple coming down the sidewalk. “You don’t need to wonder if Sam likes you. He asks about you all the time. And when he found out you’d been in a wreck, he was going to drive over to see you. Since we didn’t know how bad you were—talk went from a few scratches to massive head wound—his mom told him to give you a couple days to heal.”

“He sent me flowers,” Rosaline said.

Leanne sighed. “That’s so sweet.” She picked up the pace. “Told you he likes you.”

Yes, but he’s not the one I’m falling for.

***

Bryson scrolled through the contacts on his phone, stopping at
dafne’s cell.
He wanted to hear Rosaline’s voice. If she had her own phone, he wouldn’t even hesitate to call.

Actually, that was a lie. He worried he’d hear about her boyfriend Sam. But from a strictly friendship point, he could use her right now. Training a new manager on top of auditing the past month’s records was draining, and he knew she would cheer him up.

He hit the call button and paced as it rang. “Hey, Dafne,” he said when she answered. “Is Rosaline there?”

“She’s in Lowell.”

Bryson’s grip on the phone tightened.
With Sam. Of course she’s with him.

“She probably won’t be back until late,” Dafne said. “You want me to have her call you tomorrow?”

It just got worse and worse. “No. It’s nothing important. She’s still good? Her injuries aren’t giving her trouble, or anything?”

“Apparently. She’s recovered enough to go dancing anyway.”

Bryson told Dafne goodbye, hung up, and grabbed his keys off the hotel dresser. Time to go find out what kind of girls would go for a scarred up guy with a cane.

***

“Are you sure?” Leanne asked. Originally she’d said yes to dancing. For one, she thought Dafne would say no. Instead she’d said yes. So Rosaline figured she might as well enjoy it. But her thoughts over Bryson wouldn’t stop nagging at her.

“I’m sure,” Rosaline said. “I’m not in the mood to go to Weekends tonight.”

“But Sam will be there.”

Exactly.
Until she figured out what was going on with Bryson, she didn’t want to screw it up by being with Sam. “You can go, though. I’m sure Dafne can come pick me up.”

“No, no. You helped me all day with my jewelry. The least I can do is give you a ride home.”

Rosaline glanced at the computer in the corner, an idea quickly taking shape. “Actually, I was also hoping for another favor. How much do you know about motocross?”

***

Bryson sat in the corner of the room, watching everyone else laughing and talking. This wasn’t his scene, and he didn’t want to be here in the first place. One of the guys from the office had mentioned the get-together, but now that he was here, he wished he’d stayed in his hotel room and watched a movie.

Kevin, the guy from the office, came over with a brunette girl. “This is Bryson Mercer. He’s kind of like my boss. More like my boss’s boss. Bryson, this is Lucy. She wanted me to introduce you to her.”

Kevin lifted his beer bottle in a you’re-welcome salute, then left Lucy standing there. She sat next to him and shot him a big red-lipped smile. “You’re so young to be a boss.”

“My uncle’s the boss,” Bryson said. “I sort of stumbled into it.”

She laughed as if he’d told a joke. Obviously, she was a little drunk. She was pretty, too. Not as pretty as Rosaline, but there weren’t many girls who were. There weren’t any who could make him laugh like she could either.

Lucy put her hand on his thigh and leaned in, pressing her mostly exposed chest against his arm. “I’m crazy for the strong, silent type.”

I bet. Especially when you learn they have money.
Back in the day, when he was winning races all the time, girls regularly threw themselves at him. He’d thought those days were gone.

He reached out and ran a hand down her arm. Smooth, soft skin.

That was all the invitation she needed apparently. She leaned even closer, her lips nearing his. “You wanna get out of here?”

He looked at her. Not what he wanted, but she might be a nice distraction from all the annoying thoughts about Sam and Rosaline that wouldn’t stop running through his head.

He thought about it for a moment, then said, “Yeah. I definitely want to get out of here.”