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CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Rosalie wasn’t sure if she was kissing Lee Cooper or fighting with him for control to be able to kiss him. She experienced a flurry of fireworks up and down her spine, and she finally let him maintain the speed at which he kissed her.
He held her right where he wanted her, and Rosalie didn’t fight that. She felt stronger from leaning into his broad chest, and he made her feel like a cherished queen with the way he deepened their kiss and then slowed it almost to a crawl.
She couldn’t quite think clearly, and the only indication she had of where she stood was a brief breeze that skimmed her skin. She could only feel Lee. Taste Lee. Smell Lee. Hear Lee.
He pulled away again, and Rosalie wondered where her capability had gone. It had all melted to nothing inside this cowboy’s arms, and she didn’t even mind it.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered, touching his mouth to her jawline and then her neck. “Thank you again.” He straightened and took her hand in his, stepping back and allowing her to move away from his truck. He stooped and picked up her clutch, which she hadn’t even realized she’d dropped.
Right. He hadn’t even walked her up to the door yet. Rosalie took her tiny purse and gained strength with every step she took, and she cast a glance to Tess’s house next door once she reached the porch. The light bulbs she’d put in her outdoor sockets flooded the whole porch as if the person standing there were an actor on the stage.
“You don’t need to thank me,” she finally said. “I enjoyed the wedding.” She wanted to tell him she enjoyed being with him, which was distinctly different than liking an event. He’d been able to open his mouth and say what he thought, but Rosalie honestly didn’t know how.
His phone chimed, and Lee flinched slightly. “I’ll call you tomorrow?” He lifted his eyebrows and waited for Rosalie to nod. Then he dipped closer and kissed her again, this time keeping it short and somewhat chaste. The man had no idea what power he held over her, nor how weak his mouth against hers made her, because he stepped back quickly and adjusted his cowboy hat. “Good night, Rose.”
“’Night, Lee,” she said, placing both hands on her clutch. She watched him saunter back to his truck, noting how slowly he went tonight. That gait was nothing like the horrible stride she’d seen the first time he’d dropped her off. He looked back when he reached his truck, and when he caught her staring, he lifted his hand, smiled, and got behind the wheel.
Rosalie turned and opened the front door before she made a bigger fool of herself. She’d already taken a couple of steps before she remembered the gate keeping Thumper from sprint-hopping out, and she couldn’t lift her leg at the last minute.
She toppled forward, crying out and tossing her clutch so she could use both hands to catch herself. The gate wasn’t meant to hold the weight of a grown woman, and the two of them crashed to the floor, her legs still out on the porch and the rest of her inside the house.
“My goodness,” Charity said. A flurry of activity happened, but Rosalie wasn’t sure what it was. All she could see was darkness, and pain fired up her legs as she realized what had happened.
“Momma?” Autumn said sleepily.
“Rosalie,” Charity hurried toward her now, and together, they got her disentangled from the fallen gate. A single stomp made Rosalie’s blood turn cold.
“Get him, Autumn,” she said, her voice still a bit breathless from all the kissing and then the falling. She pulled her legs into the house, and Charity kicked the gate out onto the porch. She slammed the front door just as Thumper went flying past Autumn.
He came to a stand-still, and how he knew the front door was open and could be used as an escape, Rosalie didn’t know. The house sat in silence, and then Rosalie started laughing. Her feet hurt, and her knees smarted, but at least she didn’t have to go running around the neighborhood at midnight, wearing her dazzling, bejeweled gown, to chase down a white rabbit who didn’t seem to like being indoors.
She accepted Charity’s help to get to her feet, but she left her heels on the floor in the corner. “Come here, baby,” she said to Autumn, and the little girl flew into her arms. She drew in a deep, lemony breath of her daughter and pushed her hair back off her face. “Were you a good girl tonight?”
“She was an angel,” Charity said. “As usual.”
“We did fingerpaints,” Autumn said, squishing Rosalie’s face with her hands. “Momma, your face is funny.”
Rosalie giggled and shook her head to get Autumn’s hands away. “Come on,” she said, bending to put the child back on the floor. “I’ll help you into bed.” She glanced over to Charity, who’d just reached for her purse.
Charity met her eye and very clearly wiped her hand along her mouth. Horror struck Rosalie right behind her breastbone, and her first instinct was to touch her own mouth and figure out what sat out of place. She did, but she couldn’t tell just by feel.
“Tell Miss Charity good-bye,” she said, releasing Autumn’s hand.
Autumn ran over to her nanny, and Charity’s love for the girl filled the house as she hugged her. “Monday?” she said to Rosalie, who nodded.
“I’ll have her at the office. You can come whenever.” Rosalie would pay Charity through an app, and she’d add on a big tip for staying so late tonight.And last night, her mind whispered at her as Charity opened the front door and stepped out in quick succession.
“Come on, baby.”
Autumn came back to Rosalie and put her hand in hers. “I’m not tired, Momma.”
“Then you can come lay in my bed until you are,” she said, smiling at her daughter. Autumn would be out in less than ten minutes, but Rosalie didn’t care if she slept in the same bed as her tonight. “I’ll change my clothes and come lay by you.”
Autumn skipped down the hall at Rosalie’s side, and she lifted her daughter into the bed on the side where James had once slept. She’d washed everything many times since the divorce, and now that she’d moved her clothes onto his side of the closet, there wasn’t much of him remaining in the house at all.
Rosalie leaned down and kissed her daughter’s forehead as she snuggled into the thick comforter. “Don’t go to sleep, baby,” she said. “I want to hear about the painting. I just need to go change and wash my face.” She walked away, knowing full-well that Autumn would be asleep by the time she returned.
