“Bash, what?—”
“You need to eat,” I tell her. “Now. I’ll take the Aussie to his kennel while you do so.”
She looks at the bag on her station and then back at me. “Where did this come from?”
“I went and got you lunch.”
She blinks. “You…went all the way to Rosemary Banquet?”
“All the way? You act as if it was far.” I laugh. “But yes. Now go.”
“But Bash…I don’t understand.”
I lift the bag and place it directly in her hands, my gaze zeroing in on her. “You need to eat. It’s been almost six hours, and you haven’t eaten a thing, and you’ve barely had any water. You’re working yourself too hard. And before you say you need to work faster to raise your rating, taking a simple lunch break isn’t going to prevent you from doing that.”
She’s speechless. She just stares at me with wide green eyes, her lips slightly parted like she didn’t even realize she hasn’t eaten all day. “I guess I could take a ten minute break,” she says.
“You’d better take longer than that.” Placing my hands on her shoulders, I ignore the parade that flurries through my stomachfrom touching her so casually, and I spin her around and gently scoot her off toward the reception area where she normally eats.
Normally, when she’snotoverworking herself like a crazy person.
Chapter Twelve
ROMILLY
I can’t believewhat I see when I open the box. It’s my favorite food in all the land—Rosemary Banquet’s signature roast chicken and cranberry pecan salad. There’s even a wedge of Camembert cheese on the side, my favorite because of its mild flavor and creamy texture.
I can’t believe he did this.
In all the time I spent dating Cole, he never got a single food order of mine correct, let alone did anything this thoughtful for me.
Be smart, Romilly. Keep your head on straight. Resist his charms.
But the lecture I give myself doesn’t work. I try to stop the feelings from surging up inside me, but I can’t. A flutter rises in my stomach for Bash, accompanied by gratitude and disbelief. I don’t know how to stop it, to shove it back down, no matter how badly I want to.
I think I like him. And not just any kind of like…but a crush.
I have a crush on Bash.
I scarf down my meal. My stomach is cramped and tight because of how long it’s been since I last ate. He was right—I amhungry. And I can’t believe he was watching me closely enough to know how long it had been since I last ate.
I try to push thoughts of him away as I satisfy my hunger, but I just keep imagining the way his demanding gaze captured my attention, his insistence that I take a break. His concern this morning when he stepped in between me and the homeless man is practically burned into my brain. I’ll never forget how quickly he went from the playful, unbothered Bash to murderously defensive for me.
I’ve never felt so protected. He made me feel safe.
It was…hot.
Come on, Romilly. Where is that fierce independence you’ve been clinging so tightly to?But the words Jake spoke a few weeks ago at rehearsal before church ring through my head as well.
You can have a man, too. You’re allowed to do something for yourself.
Can I? Am I willing to let go of the trust issues Cole so graciously left me with when he wordlessly abandoned me and then later revealed he was seeing someone else the entire time we were together? If I couldn’t see through his act during that year together, how am I supposed to ever trust another man and believe he’s who he says he is? Maybe it’s myself I don’t trust because I wasn’t able to see through Cole’s lies.
Still, Bash feels different somehow.
Even though he’s probably the most handsome and flirtatious man I’ve ever met, I can’t help but feel like there’s more to him.
I pick up my phone from where it’s resting on the front desk. Nibbling delicately on the cheese, I send Addison a message.
