“Oh, I’m meeting him in town. At Sweet Baby Jane’s Tavern.”

“That’s smart,” Delilah said. “You don’t want to be alone with him in the middle of nowhere.”

“Says the New Yorker,” Callie said. “Calamity’s super safe, but you’re right, it’s pretty isolated out here.”

“Also,” Rosalina said. “I don’t really know him. We didn’t talk much at the bar the other night.”

“Does Brodie know you’re going on a date tonight?” Callie asked.

“He does. And he doesn’t care because he’s driving to Bozeman, where he’ll check into his hotel room and get naked with his girlfriend.” The hanger perched on one finger, she headed off to her bedroom to try on the dress.

“Not his girlfriend,” Callie said in a sing-song voice.

Rosalina liked the sound of that.

Except, it didn’t really matter what he and Vanessa were to each other, did it? They’d still be having sex.

Probably having it right now. She’d seen the way Vanessa had her hands all over him, rubbing his back, digging into the pocket of his jeans. Her seduction game might’ve been a little forced, but it was strong.

Jealousy got a firm grip on her stomach and twisted.

Because no matter what box Brodie wanted to put Vanessa in, the woman was getting him all to herself for the whole weekend.

And Rosalina wanted that.

Too much.

“This is going to be so much fun.” Vanessa reached for his hand on the console. “I’m so happy to be away from work and all the distractions. Oh, did I tell about the Hanson project? I got it. I can’t believe it. Between the work for Owl Hoot, your house, and the Hanson’s place, I’m going to be able to go out on my own by my target date.”

Even though the boulevard was pretty empty at this hour, he pulled out his hand to grasp the wheel. “That’s great.”

“Dinner was fun. I haven’t been in Bozeman in ages, so I had to look up some restaurants. I think I picked a good one, don’t you?”

He didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he felt her watching him. Wanting something from him. And it was tearing him up. “You picked well. Thank you for putting in the effort.”

Because he wasn’t thinking about Vanessa. He was thinking about Rosie. Not all of her supplies had come, so she’d continued working on other scents. He’d like to be there for that, see her process.

“Did you like your leg of lamb? You didn’t eat much. Which is totally not like you. You usually scarf down your meat, whatever I leave over, and then eye the plates on all the tables around us.”