Free Run Rosie Run by C. C. MacKenzie Page B

met hers as he nodded.
    ‘Sometimes we build things up in our head, make it bigger than it actually is. Have you talked to anyone about this?’
    Shaking her head, Rosie walked back and sank beside him onto the couch.
    ‘Never. I’m too scared it might change my relationship with Bronte and the family. And Alexander would be utterly mortified. He’d be too nice to me, too kind to me.’ She looked him dead in the eye. ‘I couldn’t cope with that.’
    He lifted his hand, stroked her hair.
    ‘Rosie, it’s not healthy to live in a perpetual state of ‘if only’.’
    He was absolutely right.
    ‘Most of the time I deal with it. But sometimes, like recently, it’s been hard to get a grip on my feelings. I’ve already talked to Bronte about leaving, starting over somewhere else. Perhaps in Cyprus with my parents. I need to make changes because if I don’t I’m scared I’m going to make a fool of myself.’
    ‘What’s the worst thing that can happen?’
    ‘Rejection, being hurt, I suppose.’
    Josh pulled her into a hug, held her close.
    She was so grateful for the human connection, that unconditional affection, it brought a sting to her eyes and a lump to her throat.
    ‘If you want my advice,’ he said as he laid his cheek on the top of her head. ‘You need to be brave, take a chance and see what happens.’
    ‘If I follow my instincts I’ll give him a black eye. I hate him at times,’ she muttered into his chest.
    ‘There’s a fine line between love and hate.’
    The harsh tone in his voice had her look up into his handsome face.
    ‘You’ve been hurt?’
    ‘She was never mine.’
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘She married my brother.’
    Rosie wound her arms around him and hugged him, hard. ‘I’m sorry. Are they happy?’
    ‘Blissfully, with two children and one on the way.’
    ‘That’s a shame. If Alexander married anyone but me I’d pray he’ll be miserable for the rest of his rotten life.’
    Josh’s deep laugh vibrated through her and made her smile.
    ‘You’re a good friend, Rosemary Gordon.’
    ‘So are you, Joshua Erichsen.’
     
     
     

Chapter Ten
     
     
    Alexander hadn’t slept.
    Every night of his life, without fail, he went out like a light. Every night.
    But last night, he’d tossed, he’d turned, he’d changed the pillow, he’d had a double brandy and nada.
    Now he was up at the crack of dawn on his day off and had nothing to do.
    How the hell had that happened?
    He could cruise through the barn conversion, do a snagging list. But a team had blown through it yesterday, no point in duplicating work.
    He liked being close to the The Hall and his heritage and still have his privacy. The new space was just right for him, the way it opened onto the huge entrance hall, dining room and sitting room was a great entertaining space when he had his pals over.
    Wearing brushed cotton pants slung low on is hips, he switched on his coffee.
    Usually the first cup made him human, woke him up, made him feel ready to face the day. Not today it didn’t.
    Rosie was a good friend. A close friend. And he had strong feelings for her. Very strong. But she was being freaky he told himself - as he had scores of times during the night. She might be a friend but she was avoiding looking him in the eye. And a friend wouldn’t talk about another friend the way she talked about him last night, would they?
    She was just trying to make him feel bad he decided now, over something she thought he’d done when he hadn’t done anything.
    The whole thing was fucking pathetic.
    He might order an early breakfast, but decided he wasn’t particularly hungry. If it had been the weekend, he’d have a full English - bacon, eggs, sausage and then have a golf or tennis game.
    But he hadn’t organised a game for today. He didn’t feel like a game because he couldn’t be bothered. Now he frowned. There was something wrong with that picture.
    Maybe he’d look at the detailed plans for the re-fitting of the