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Rosie fucking Belmont has waltzed into the scene with her smart mouth and suspiciously watery eyes. And all I want to do is demand to know who hurt her so I can fix it.
“Probably a good thing, eh?� I tease, bumping him back. “Didn’t like me much when we were kids, if I remember correctly.� His lips lift in a smug smile, gaze still latched to the fire he built with his daughter. Then he turns and looks me dead in the eye. “You’re not remembering correctly, Rosie.�
Because as much as I don’t need a knight in shining armor to defend my honor, I’m relieved I have one who feels compelled to do so.
He wore the key to my diary for ten years.
If Ford were a blanket, I’d pull him over my shoulders and walk around like I was wearing a cape.
