I climb out of the van, crossing my arms and blinking at Roman in disbelief as he glowers at Henry till he drives away. “What crawled up your ass and died?”
Ever so slowly, he looks down at me. “Charming.”
Even looking angrier than I’ve ever seen him, Roman still manages to alight more feeling in me than I can logically justify. After six years of keeping my distance and dating around he shouldn’t still be able to make my heart flip just by looking at me.
So what if the cowboy hat tilts just right on his head? Or if the rolled-up sleeves of his checkered shirt reveal suntanned, muscled arms that have me wondering what it would be like to be held by him.
I’ve been with attractive guys before, but they didn’t make me want to melt into a puddle just by tracing their gaze overmy collarbone. They didn’t make mefeelso much that I worry sometimes my chest can’t contain it. That all the need and obsession and lust will burst out of me, and I’ll do something stupid like kiss him again.
I visualize a shield forming over my heart, packing all of those feelings away and focusing on his anger in the hope it will distract me from everything else.
“What’s your problem with Henry?” I ask, hands on my hips.
Roman stiffens. “No problem.” He shrugs but it feels forced. “Just figured he should be working on the shop not chauffeuring you around.”
It hits me then what this is, and my hands slip from my hips. “Are you… jealous?” A tendril of hope curls inside of me, rising up towards my heart like smoke till Roman douses it.
“No,” he states. “But as a business owner you should consider using your employees more wisely.”
The smoky hope hisses and dies and hurt lances through me. I keep my face blank and stride past Roman.
He sighs and follows after me towards the stables. “Lola–”
I cut my hand through the air. “No, you’re right and it’s also irresponsible of me to leave my shop unattended so why don’t you just show me whatever I’m here for and I’ll be on my way.”
Roman catches up with me and snags my wrist. “Lola.”
I try to tug my arm free but he just tightens his grip. I fall out with my body for the way my core clenches.
“Firebird.” The nickname trips off his lips, and I stop struggling. My heart hurts with how hard it beats for him.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m an idiot and getting a lift from your contractor is perfectly reasonable.” He slides his hand down and twines his fingers with mine.
I let him lead me past the converted stables and out onto the patio.
The last time I was here the patio was filled with pickers lounging on the log benches. Now, those benches have been pushed aside, and a large tarp is spread out over an uneven surface.
“Did you murder someone?” I ask. “Am I here to help you bury the body?”
A bemused smile tilts Roman’s far too tempting lips as he looks down at me.
“Why is it always dead bodies with you?”
“I guess I just like to find the excitement in life.”
He raises a single brow.
My hackles rise and I pull away from him. “If you call me reckless, I swear to god?—”
“Hey, hey,” he cuts me off and grabs hold of both my hands, pulling me in towards him. “I can’t believe I’m having to say this but it’s not a dead body.” He tilts his head towards the tarp. “Go take a look.”
Curiosity piques inside of me, cool water against my fire.
I detangle my fingers from Roman’s and go over to the tarp mound. The material crinkles under my hands as I pull it away. It drags against the surface of whatever is underneath it and I get a glimpse of pale brown wood. My brows dig together and then I pull the tarp clear and my world tilts. “Oh my god, Roman.”
I tremble as I throw the cover aside and raise my fingers to my lips.
Lying on the patio before me is a gorgeous driftwood sign, my coffee shop’s name—Bean There…—burned into the surface in bold calligraphic letters. “How did you even…” I can’t get the words out. I just look over at him, torn between gazing at the beautiful sign or the beautiful man.
