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She chuckled. “Georgiana designed it. Apparently, boho chic is in. I asked Georgiana if having my tits on display was also in. Is it too much? I wasn’t sure where you planned on going for dinner.”
My eyes took all the dress in. It was long and almost fell to the floor, but I could see the black heels Rose had on. There was a slit on the side of the dress that came up to about mid-thigh and my mouth salivated to see more skin. It was cinched around her waist, showing off her curves. Rose wasn’t super thin like most of the women I had come in contact with, and I loved that about her. She was comfortable in her own skin, and fuck if that wasn’t a turn-on.
“It is not too much. I mean, I want to peel it off you and lick every inch of your creamy skin, but…”
My words trailed off when her eyes met mine.
“That doesn’t sound so awful.”
I slowly shook my head. “No, it doesn’t. Except we have reservations, and I’d hate not to show up.”
Rose reached down and picked up a small clutch bag, slipped her phone inside, and winked at me. “We better get going then. And where are we going in Hamilton where you needed reservations?”
I held the door open while she stepped outside. One push on her keyless entry and the door locked.
“Your father told me about a new steak restaurant.”
“Oh yeah! There used to be a French restaurant there, but…well…I’ll tell you all about that story someday.”
We walked up to my truck, and I opened the passenger door for her. “How interesting can a French restaurant be?”
Rose took my hand, and I helped her up. I couldn’t help but notice how her body trembled slightly from my touch, and I had to force my body to settle the hell down.
Once she was in, I shut the door and made my way to the driver’s side. Once in, Rose went on.
“It’s not about the restaurant. It’s about the guy who was the chef there. He kidnapped Morgan.”
My head snapped, and I stared at Rose. “Come again?”
She nodded. “Yep. He was a stalker. It’s a crazy long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
That was a good sign she was saving stories for later. Stories she’d tell to me over dinner—or breakfast if I had my way with where we were going.
“No wonder me buying land and asking you to design my house freaked you out.”
She laughed.
“We could walk there if you want. It’s only two blocks up. That way, you don’t have to fight with finding a parking spot. The tourists have started to flock in now that it’s summer, and parking can sometimes be hard to find.”
“You don’t mind walking?”
“Not at all!”
She went to open her door, and I told her to hold on while I ran back around the truck and helped her out. Once she was out of the truck, we walked down the alley and turned on a street up toward Main.
I reached down for Rose’s hand and was pleasantly surprised she allowed me to hold it.
“What was it like growing up here?” I asked as we walked down Main Street.
Rose smiled. “We spent most of our time on the ranch. As you know from our conversation the first night we met, the Shaw Ranch is big. All my uncles live on it, except for Dirk, but I explained everything about him and Merit. Their two kids, Bradly and Avery, are like brother and sister to me. We all grew up together, and they spent more time on our ranch than at their own. Merit’s family has a farm that she and her brother now run. They grow everything and anything. I’ll take you to the farmers’ market in town. It’s the only place I buy my fruits and veggies.”
“I’d like that.”
“Anyway, we didn’t come into town a lot when we were little. As we got older, we came into town more. Especially once we started high school. My Uncle Brock has a community center that he started in memory of his first wife and his late brother, Beck. It’s pretty neat, and they’re hoping to build a new water area for the kids. I know he’s excited about it. They also have a mental health office for those who are seeking help with really anything. His first wife suffered from depression.”
“Did they get divorced?” I asked.
“No. Sadly, she died while giving birth to Blayze, our oldest cousin.”
“Damn, that’s terrible.”
Rose squeezed my hand. “It was, but Uncle Brock met Aunt Lincoln, and he always says she saved him. My father says that about my mother as well. I think it’s sweet.”
“That is. Your father is a great guy. Scares the shit out of me, and I can’t tell when he’s joking and when he’s serious.”
