Chapter One
The Past
Rosalind
Dear Diary
Tonight, I did something stupid that I’m sure will haunt me for the rest of my life. One name. Cole Harries. He's the hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on! Sexy, buff, scary. And sooo damn charming. He's perfect, but he’s also a biker—a prospect for the Death’s Soldiers MC. His father is the president of the club, meaning Cole is everything my parents would utterly hate. And that was all the reason I needed to give him my V-card. I'm no longer an 18-year-old virgin. I'm no longer my parents pure and good little daughter. Tonight has been the best night of my life. I will never forget Cole Harries.
I sigh with delight and clutch my diary close to my chest as I think back on the events that have unfolded tonight. The bar reeks of sweat and sex. I gag. When I promised Melanie, my best friend, I'd go out with her, I didn’t expect we’d end up here. A disgusting bar filled with old men. The younger guys that would have been worth a second look already have their hands full with what I assume to be strippers or prostitutes. Despite wearing a naughty little number, I’m practically dressed as a nun compared to the ladies in this establishment. If only my parents could see me now. They would be horrified by my actions. Their daughter doesn’t belong in a filthy place like this.
Melanie’s parents own a vacation house here in Lineville. Of course, the house is located in the better part of town, not in the slum where we are now. I only agreed to go away with Melanie for the summer to escape my parents’ strict supervision. College awaits me back in Phoenix in the fall. A degree in communications that I have no idea what to do with, but as long as I get away from my parents and their suffocating parenting, then I’m good. It’s not like I’ll work for a living anyway. I’m pretty sure they already have a posh doctor lined up to marry me.
Melanie is leaving for California soon. She has tried to convince me to go with her, but honestly, I don’t see our friendship surviving past summer. We’re too different. We only hung out in high school because we were on the cheerleading squad together, and our parents were friends.
We haven’t been in the bar for more than ten minutes, and Melanie is already sitting in some guy's lap, leaving me to fend for myself. I finish my beer and try to gain her attention, but she’s too busy letting the guy stick his tongue down her throat.
I leave the bar after having been ignored long enough. As I inhale the fresh Arizona air, l realize I have no way of transporting myself home. Melanie had a chauffeur drop us off, and by the looks of it, this side of town doesn't have a taxi service.
‘’You alright, kid?’’ a voice startles me from behind.
The guy in question, half-hiding in the shadows, steps forward, revealing his clear green eyes. They’re a shade lighter than a dark forest green. Magnificent. And his body is out of this world, too. The worn bandana around his head is strangely arousing as well.
‘’You okay, sweetheart?’’ he asks again, tilting an eyebrow.
‘’I’m fine,’’ I grunt unladylike, annoyed that he speaks to me like I’m a child. He doesn't look much older than me.
The guy lifts his arms in a motion of surrender, slowly stepping closer to me. ‘’I ain’t gonna hurt you, sweetie, but this ain’t a place for someone like you.’’
‘’Someone like me? What’s that supposed to mean?’’ I snap, crossing my arms. ‘’Why can’t I be here? What’s wrong with me?’’
He gives me a once-over, licking his lips as though he likes what he sees. ‘’There's absolutely nothing wrong with ya, and you can be wherever you wanna be,’’ he whispers in a gruff tone. I gulp. A smirk drags the corners of his lips up. ‘’I would personally prefer it if you were on top... riding me.’’
His crude words make me look up into his eyes. I gasp when I realize just how close we're standing. The stranger’s breath washes over my neck and face, and his eyes glimmer with something I can’t decipher. I should be running away from him, but his green orbs have me enchanted.
Without thinking, I pull my hand back, ready to slap the guy across the face, but he captures my wrist, putting an end to my assault. I stare at our hands. Giant versus tiny. His fingers are like sandpaper against my flesh—coarse, raw, delicious.
My heart beats faster than a hummingbird's wings. I attempt to yank my hand out of his, but his fingers flex around my thin wrist, refusing to let me go. The man is so big, he could snap me like a twig. What was I thinking trying to slap him? He's going to hurt me now. A rush soars through my stomach as the guy jerks me closer until my chest crashes against his. Our position allows me to feel all the tight muscles he’s hiding beneath his shirt. I squirm, hating the things the crude stranger makes my body feel.
‘’You've got some fire in ya, lady. I like it.’’
‘’You do?’’
‘’Yeah. Fire is good. I apologize if my compliment upset you. I didn’t mean no disrespect.’’
I scrunch my nose, debating what to do. When I nod, accepting his apology, his entire demeanor changes to one of almost giddiness. A voice deep inside me is scolding me, berating me for giving in to the devil way too easily.
‘’I'm Harries. Cole Harries,’’ he says. ‘’I promise you have no reason to fear me.’’
‘’That sounds like something a bad guy would say.’’
‘’Never claimed to be a good guy.'' He winks, acting playful, but he doesn't fool me. His words held the truth; he's not a good guy. But why do I have a craving for something bad? Cole must have noticed my internal fight because he adds, ‘’You have my word; I won’t let any harm come to you.’’
‘’That remains to be seen.’’ I step back, throwing a bucket of water on whatever magic is going on between us. Still, Cole refuses to let my hand go. ‘’Trust has to be earned,’’ I say.
A half smile adorns his face. ‘’Aye. Trust and loyalty have to be earned. Tell me, what’s your name and how old are you?’’
I chuckle. ‘’Do you always ask this many questions?’’
‘’Nah, but I currently find myself wanting to know a lot of answers.’’
‘’My name is Rosalind, and I’m twenty-one.’’
‘’Twenty-one? Really?’’ Cole asks, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.
I squirm under his gaze. ‘’All right, I’m eighteen, but please don’t tell anyone.’’
‘’For you? My lips are sealed, sweetheart. Now, tell me, what is a beautiful lady such as yourself doing in a place like this?’’
‘’I was here with a friend, but she decided to ditch me for some dude, so now I’m trying to find a way home.’’ I take in my surroundings. Sketchy people seem to be this place's trademark. ‘’Do you know where I can get a cab?’’
‘’Rosalind,’’ Cole mutters, tasting my name, ignoring my rant about a cab. The way he articulates my name makes my hands clammy, or maybe it's because he’s still holding my hand in his big, warm one. ‘’Eighteen is a bit young.’’
‘’Because you're not?’’ I retort. This Cole guy is no doubt older than me, but not by a lot.
‘’Got me there. I’m only twenty-two, but I don’t look like jailbait.’’
Great. So much for dressing to impress. ‘’Do I really look like a child to you?’’
‘’Nope. But you do look like an innocent lamb who ain’t supposed to be hanging out in the gutters. This place ain’t safe. Shit happens here.’’ Cole’s face sets in a grim expression, and for a moment, I’m actually frightened, but then the seriousness disappears and is replaced with a soft smile and a glint in his eyes. ‘’Where are you staying, Rose?’’
I blush when he calls me Rose. It’s not the first time I’ve been called that nickname, but it’s the first time it has had this effect on me.
‘’I’m staying with my friend, Melanie Donnewich, for the entire summer.’’
He nods. ‘’We know her at the club. She gets called the witch. I’m surprised you two know each other. But at least now I know where to find you.’’ Cole leans closer. ‘’There’s no escaping me now, Rose.’’
I swallow loudly, biting down on my lip, trying to hide my excited smile. ‘’Would you like to... Would you wanna...’’
‘’Say the words,’’ Cole goads, smirking self-satisfied as I’m tongue-tied.
‘’Do you want to get out of here?’’ I ask. ‘’With me?’’
‘’It’d be my honor, my lady.’’ Cole smiles, his face light and happy.
I let out a deep breath. Cole does something to my insides that I can’t quite explain. Maybe it’s the excitement of being reckless for once in my life. I stop abruptly, my head finally catching up with my libido. ‘’You’re not gonna kidnap me, right?’’
‘’Kidnap you?’’ Cole barks out, a puff of air leaving his chest. It’s like a chuckle without it being a real chuckle. His hand, which is still holding mine, tightens in a fierce grip.
‘’I don’t really know you, and like you said, this is a shady area of town,’’ I continue. ‘’Who knows, maybe you’re involved in human trafficking?’’ I narrow my eyes in thought. ‘’But then again, if you were into human trafficking, you probably wouldn’t tell me, or else you’d be shitty at your job—’’
Cole's soft lips silence my babble as they meet mine. It's a quick, delightful peck, but it leaves me wanting more. Gripping his shirt, I press my body against his, yearning for his touch. A deep growl rumbles from Cole's chest, igniting a primal desire within me. He releases my hand and cups my jaw, his fingers branding my skin, owning me.
Right now, Cole Harries could be the reaper himself, and I would willingly follow him to Hell without a second thought. He's the one to end the kiss. I cringe as shame settles in every cell of my body. I’ve never acted so wanton before in my entire life.
‘’I’m sorry,’’ I mutter, panting heavily.
‘’Don’t be,’’ Cole retorts and winks. ‘’I’m not.’’
My face grows crimson red. I clear my throat. ‘’So no human trafficking?’’
‘’I’m a prospect for the Death’s Soldiers MC. It’s a one-percenter motorcycle club, so yeah, we do some shady shit. My dad's the president. He ain’t much of a good guy either, but we ain’t into human trafficking.’’
Holy cannoli. Cole is a straight-up bad guy. I gulp. ‘’That was not the best sales pitch in the world,’’ I quip, going for a teasing tone, but I don’t quite succeed.
‘’You have my word, I won't let any harm come to you, Rose.’’ Cole smiles reassuringly, squeezing my hand. ''All I have to offer is a ride on my bike. I know a place where we can hang out. Or if you want, I can take you straight home. It’s your call.’’
Choices. What to do? Go home or go wherever Cole wants to take me? I should make him take me home. That’s the proper choice.
‘’You know what, I’m granting you the permission to sweep me off my feet.’’ I throw out my arm. ‘’Lead the way to your metal stallion and take me to this place of seclusion.’’
It earns me a full belly laugh from Cole, but I flinch as soon as the words leave my mouth. Could I sound any more pathetic?
Two minutes later, I’m on the back of Cole’s Harley. It’s wild. The engine sounds like a roar from a bear every time he accelerates. If my parents could see me now, they’d shit cows. I tighten my hold on Cole’s waist, copping a feel of his well-defined muscles. If only this feeling of pure freedom could last for the rest of my life.
Too soon, Cole slows down, cutting the engine in front of an old wooden house. It’s huge. The place could use some work and a new coat of paint, but other than that, it’s unbelievably stunning.
After retrieving a blanket from the leather saddlebag, Cole takes my hand in his and leads me around the house to the backyard and down to a pond. He unfolds the blanket and sits down, pulling me with him. I land in his lap with his arms around my waist, his mouth on my neck, and his nose in my hair, groaning in pleasure as he breathes me in.
My blush spreads from my cheeks and down to my toes. Thankfully, it’s dark. If I’m lucky, Cole won’t notice. I’m sure he is very experienced in this department, and I’d hate to make a fool out of myself in front of him.
‘’Is this your place?’’ I ask, gasping when his teeth glide over my pulse point. His rough and delicious treatment is sure to leave marks on my neck.
‘’Nope. Not yet,’’ he mutters against my neck, sucking fiercely.
When he lets my flesh go with a pop, I turn around, straddling him properly, my hips automatically grinding against his crotch. I have no idea what I’m doing, but my body can’t help itself.
‘’Fuck, Rose. Feels so fucking good,’’ Cole groans, digging his fingers into my hips, making me arch into him.
‘’What do you mean by not yet? Are we breaking and entering?’’
Cole attacks my breasts, squeezing and molding them roughly. ‘’Does it matter?’’
I whimper when he pinches my nipples. They’re incredibly sensitive. The pain is almost too much. Almost. I completely forget our conversation when Cole’s hand dips under my dress, removing my panties with a frightening expertise. I don’t know what disturbs me more, his expertise or my lack of skills, or the insane lust he makes me feel.
Cole spreads my wetness around my lady parts and rubs fast circles on my clit. I come undone, moaning his name so quickly that I’m rather embarrassed about it and swiftly hide my face in his neck.
Before I can spend too much time feeling embarrassed, Cole maneuvers my body beneath his, my back hitting the soft blanket. His large frame hovers above me, his green eyes shine brightly in the darkness, and his lips are curved into a smirk that makes me all hot and bothered and ready to go again.
The sound of Cole unzipping his pants awakens a flash of terror within me, which I’m quick to cover up. His kisses do nothing to distract me as he frees his member. It's huge! It'll never fit into me.
Panic blasts through my body when Cole guides my hand to his stiff cock, squeezing my hand to hold him tighter. The feral growl that escapes from the back of his throat leaves me craving for more, but at the same time, has me utterly terrified.
Cole quickly pushes my dress up around my waist and positions himself at my entrance. The tip of his cock glides back and forward, getting soaked in my juices. His lips crash down on mine, his tongue owning my mouth. I band my legs around his waist as he braids our fingers together. With one hard push, he penetrates me. I scream out in pain, but his mouth muffles most of it.
A split second later, Cole throws his head back, his eyes wide in shock and horror while his whole body stills. ‘’You’re a fucking virgin?’’ he erupts.
I cringe at his sour and disapproving tone. All my insecurities come flooding back in full force. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ I whisper, avoiding his heated gaze.
‘’Sorry? You’re fucking sorry?’’ he growls. One of his hands scratches his very square jaw and his five o’clock shadow in what I assume is frustration.
I should have told him. I’m so fucking stupid. What was I thinking?
At least the pain has subsided, and I unintentionally move my hips, which causes amazing friction to happen down south. It’s something I definitely want more of. However, Cole’s furious gaze makes me stop my movements altogether.
‘’You should have told me, Rose. I fucking hurt you,’’ he grumbles.
‘’It’s okay.’’
‘’No, it fucking ain’t. I could have been more gentle. Why didn’t you fucking tell me,’’ he yells, slamming his fist into the ground, right next to my head.
I flinch. ‘’Please don’t be mad.’’
Cole’s lips move back over his teeth in a snarl, but no animalistic sounds escape him. ‘’Why? Why the fuck would you give me of all people your virginity?’’
‘’Why not you?’’
‘’Because I’m me and you're...’’ He sniffs my hair, ‘’someone who reek of upper class.’’
‘’I guess I was being selfish.’’
His thick brows knit together. ‘’Explain.’’
I shrug and wet my dry lips. ‘’I wanted this so badly, and I thought if you found out, you might not want to do that with me.’’
My fear of Cole not wanting me due to my inexperience fades when his penis jerks inside me at my confession. Clearly, me being untouched doesn't appall him completely. His body's reaction even relaxes and pleases me more than it embarrasses me.
With a single finger under my jaw, Cole tilts my head up until I look at him. ‘’Sorry that I hurt you, sweetheart. Are you okay?’’
I nod.
‘’I’m gonna need more than that, Rose. I’m gonna need some words.’’
‘’I’m okay.’’ I take a deep breath. ‘’I want this. Here. Tonight. With you, Cole. Please.’’
‘’Fuck me,’’ he groans, running a hand over his beard. ‘’You say stop if I hurt you,’’ he orders with a stern gaze that carries a hint of worry hidden in his stormy green orbs.
‘’I promise. I want you,’’ I say, owning up to my lust and sinful ways. ‘’Do you still want to...’’ I let my words drift off, too much of a coward to finish my sentence.
Cole chuckles. It’s not a funny kind of laugh, more like an evil villain getting his way. I like it. A lot.
‘’I want you, Rose. Don't ever doubt that. I want to fuck your brains out and ruin you for all other men,’’ Cole says with so much conviction that it blows my mind. He brushes a lock of my brown curls away from my face. ‘’It ain’t often a rose like you makes its way down into the gutters to a guy like me.’’
‘’What kind of rose am I?’’
‘’A good one. A beautiful, kind, and pure one.’’
‘’Good and pure sounds awfully boring,’’ I mumble. I want to be wild and daring. I want to be craved, desired, and loved.
Cole leans down, his warm breath fanning over my ear. ‘’Sounds fucking perfect to me.’’
‘’And here I thought you were going to corrupt me, Mr. Harries,’’ I quip, pushing away my sad thoughts. I’ve made up my mind. I want a night of unbridled passion. Even if one night is all I’ll ever get.
‘’Oh, I’m gonna corrupt you all right, my lady.’’
I laugh. Cole's dark, grumbly voice and lustful eyes cause a fire to burn through my body. For a long moment, he focuses on my face, looking for any signs of me regretting this, regretting this moment, regretting us. I lick my lips, watching Cole as he watches me. It’s intense and exhilarating. I’ve never experienced anything like it before.
Rotating my hips is enough to bring Cole out of whatever haze that has him captivated. With our hands intertwined and our lips connected, Cole gently rocks his hips. Back and forth. Slow and steady. It’s the best freaking feeling in the world.
I want more.
I need more.
‘’Please,’’ I moan. ‘’Cole… more…’’
He finally snaps, giving it to me hard and rough. Our sweat blends together into one immoral concoction. Cole’s heavy body crushes mine. The weight is not unpleasant. It’s the total opposite of that. I want more. I want more of his touch, his voice, his sounds, his weight. I want everything he's giving me. Cole plants a wet kiss on my ear and pants my name like a prayer.
Rose... Rose... Rose...
Chapter Two
Present Day
Rosalind
I wake up with a gasp. Sweat clings to my skin. Despite the sterile surroundings of the hospital room, Cole's voice echoes in my mind, his deep, growly tone haunting me.
Rose... Rose... Rose...
The dreams always feel so earth-shattering real. Cole’s beard on my skin feels as warm as a summer day, his kisses wet and perfect as the ocean, and his eyes as green as the dark forest and filled with orgasmic lust.
In my dreams, it’s like I know him—personally and intimately. But in real life, all I remember about him is his name.
Cole Harries.
Though I can’t remember him or us, his eyes still speak to something buried deep inside me. I've yet to own up to our shared past, but it’s hard when I have no memories of it, only hazy dreams that blend lived memories with imagination.
Being in a coma for months after a horrid car accident has left its mark. I’m just lucky it didn’t steal my life, only my memory.
Recalling the day I woke up from that coma feels like revisiting a nightmare. The throbbing headache that greeted me was nearly unbearable, as if my skull might split in two at any moment. Pain radiated from every part of my body, in places I never knew could ache. My muscles felt like they had wasted away; even the simplest movements, like flexing my fingers, felt like a monumental task.
Doctors and nurses ran into my room, fussing over me, asking me questions. I didn’t say a word, not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t know how to. My brain didn’t know how to speak. But that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was that I didn’t know the answer when they asked me what my name was.
The doctors informed me of my name and age, but none of it rang a bell. Numbness controlled me. Confined in a painful hell, I was unable to move, unable to speak, unable to remember.
My day turned from bad to worse when they came to visit.
Quinn, Cash, and Church.
Quinn hurried to my side, enveloping me in a tearful embrace. Paralyzed with confusion, I couldn’t move, so I merely lay there, silently freaking out when she called me 'Mom.'
The two men stood further back, giving me and this Quinn some space. She quickly introduced me to Cash, her fiancé. Piercing blue eyes and blonde hair that could use a trim. His gaze watched over Quinn and her every move. A fool in love if I ever saw one.
The other man, Church, remained by the door. He looked older than me, but good. He had the most intoxicating green eyes I had ever seen. The same colors as Quinn’s. I simply couldn’t look away from him, but he didn’t seem to mind. His eyes were eating me up, and a smile of wonder played on his lips. He seemed sweet and deathly at the same time.
When Quinn told me that Church, also known as Cole Harries, was not only her father but also my husband and the president of a motorcycle club named the Death’s Soldiers MC, I didn’t freak out as much as I probably should have. For some bizarre reason, it didn’t surprise me. The information felt strangely familiar yet foreign at the same time.
When my doctor came in and informed them of my condition—that my memory loss is some sort of defense mechanism that has kicked in because I’ve experienced severe trauma, their smiles vanished. Tears welled up in Quinn’s eyes. My previous numbness disappeared, and guilt overtook every cell of my body. Apparently, I have a daughter I can’t even remember. What kind of mother doesn’t remember her own daughter?
That was two months ago.
Despite still being in the hospital, I’m doing a whole lot better now. Physical therapy has been tough, but a lifesaver. I can use my arms and legs again. It’s a bloody miracle. Last week, I said goodbye to the crutches for good. I’m not able to run a marathon or anything, but I can walk. With time and more training, everything will be as before the accident.
My voice is also back. My throat still gets sore and aches when I use it too much, but it’s a price I’m happy to pay to be able to speak again.
The elephant in the room is still a tricky matter—the elephant being my lacking memory. Quinn and Antonia have been here almost every day. They bring pictures and tell stories, forcing me to work on my memory.
So far, it hasn’t helped much.
Antonia is a beautiful blonde with curves that I’m sure her newly acquired husband loves to worship. I’ve been told she’s like a sister to Quinn and like a second daughter to me. Still, I don’t remember her. I barely remember the daughter I actually gave birth to.
Quinn is a pretty girl. Long and lean. She’s the image of me. Well, me twenty-some years ago. Only her eyes differentiate. They’re a brighter version of her dad’s, a light emerald green.
The girls say my car accident was no accident. They claim my second husband, Michael Bradford, was behind it. According to them, I ran away from Church or Cole or whatever his name is and married Michael. The problem is that I never signed the divorce papers I served Cole. No one knows why I ran from him, but Quinn claims the lack of my signature on the divorce papers proves he’s the love of my life. I don’t have the heart to tell her that the man she admires greatly is nothing but a blurry dream to me.
Quinn showed me a family photo of me, her, and Michael. In the photo, Quinn must have been around five years old. Her arms were wrapped fiercely around my neck and her legs around my waist. At first, I didn’t even recognize myself. I was so stiff and proper. Pearl necklace, fancy updo, a pale mint-colored dress that had a conservative fifties vibe to it. Fake smiles were the only thing we all had in common in that picture. Michael was puffing out his chest, looking like a frat boy who had finally obtained the toy he wanted.
The girls have told me about my poisonous relationship with Michael and that he tried to have me and Quinn killed. I still find it hard to believe. The man in the photo hadn't looked polite, but he hadn't looked like a murderer either. Yet something about him makes me flinch every time I even think of him. It’s a reaction beyond my control.
Every day for the past two months, Quinn and Antonia would tell me a bit more about my past. Some days, I’d voice my questions. Others, I’d stay silent, not wanting to know the answers.
Antonia is outgoing, talkative, and pregnant. I’ve yet to meet her husband and the father of her child, but she has told me all about her dead twin brother, who turned out to be alive and not her twin brother at all, but only a half-brother. She has yapped on and on about it, and I’m internally grateful for it. I know some of it is hard for her to talk about, but she does it anyway. I think she knows that constantly being the center of attention is too much for me.
It can be exhausting to hear stories about one's past when the answers to so many important questions still remain a mystery.
Why did you stay with Michael? Why did you leave Cole? Why didn’t you sign the divorce papers? Why did you keep Quinn a secret from her father?
I exhale deeply and rub my face. It breaks my heart every time disappointment crosses the girls' faces when they realize I don’t remember what they’re talking about. Of course, I want to know everything about the past, but a small part doesn’t want to remember.
What if I remember and it turns out I’m a horrible human being who hurt the people I should’ve loved the most?
Unfortunately, I don’t think I have a choice. Quinn seems determined to get me to remember. Besides, every night, I dream. No matter how hard I try, I can’t escape my subconscious.
Dreams of Cole Harries, or Church as he’s called these days, torment me every single night. They are dreams that cause me to wake up moaning and wet between my legs. Some nights, I dream he’s in my room, sitting in the dark, watching me.
I dream of Cole and his body and his sweet words in my ear, promising anything I want if I marry him. I dream of being on the back of his bike, the wind kissing my face. I dream of being free and alive with him. It’s weird since I’ve barely seen him since I came out of my coma. He’s a huge part of my past, which is why it nags me that I can’t remember everything clearly.
I also dream of Quinn and Antonia as children, crawling in trees and getting into trouble. I don’t know what causes these dreams to appear. I wonder if it’s my memory coming back or just my brain’s vivid fictional creations based on the stories I’ve been told.
Some nights, I also have nightmares. I dream of Michael and his fist against my face. I dream of the ugly words spewing from his mouth as he threatens me and Quinn if I don’t act as he wishes. I’m helpless in those dreams. It’s almost as if Michael has some secret power over me.
The worst nightmare I have is of Michael hovering above me with a knife. The slicing sensation across my left breast—above my heart—feels so real. I know the dream must be true because I have a scar in that exact spot. A scar that cuts through the one and only tattoo I have on my body.
‘’Good morning sunshine,’’ Antonia quips from the doorway, bringing me out of my haze. ‘’Ready to get the fuck out of this joint?’’
I nod and give her a smile, removing my hand from the left side of my chest. I have no idea what the future holds for me or where I’ll spend the night, but I’m so done with this hospital.
‘’Good morning, Mom,’’ Quinn squeals, appearing next to Antonia. She rushes over and hugs me tightly. I hug her back. This mom thing no longer weirds me out. ‘’I’ve just talked to the nurse, and she has finished your discharge papers, so you're officially a free woman as long as you have someone at home to take care of you and make sure you attend your physical therapy sessions.’’
‘’Thank you, sweetheart.’’
‘’Cash and I have offered to have you, but Dad... I mean Church... I mean Cole—’’
‘’Mr. C wants your ass in his bed, Rose,’’ Antonia chirps, winking seductively before stepping aside.
A huge hulk of a man walks through the door. Cole Harries in all his glory. His massive frame and penetrating stare momentarily make me forget I’m a grown-ass woman.
‘’You’re riding with me back to my place,’’ Cole announces.
The deep sound of his voice washes over me, and goosebumps explode across my body. ‘’But Quinn has—’’
‘’Quinn and Cash are fine on their own, and they have a wedding to plan.’’ He traces the outline of his Hulk Hogan beard. ‘’You’ll get a room in my house. I’ll take care of you, and when I’m not around, the girls or a prospect will be there.’’
‘’That's kind of you, but I’m sure I can stay—’’
‘’Whatever you’re thinking, you can forget about it, Rosalind,’’ Cole growls and stabs a finger into his chest. ‘’You’re my wife. You’re staying at my house. We’re doing this my way.’’
I gasp, stunned and turned on. His voice sends tremors down my spine. For a brief moment, I wonder what that mouth of his is capable of doing to other parts of my body. Dangerous thoughts. I clear my throat and nod in acceptance, not able to utter a word. Staying a few weeks with my ex-husband is no problem. Well, technically, according to the law, he's still my husband, but what’s the worst that can happen?