Chapter 29
Iris
“Ride ’em, cowboy!”Roman calls out to his son.
I glance at Maverick’s proud daddy standing next to me and swoon at the joy on his gorgeous face. In Hawaii, I was treated to a wide range of different smiles from Roman—but not once did I witness one quite as stunning as the smile of fatherly love splitting Roman’s face now.
“Go, Mavvy, go!” Roman’s mother shouts, sounding every bit as proud as her son.
Roman, his parents, and I are standing outside the circular, steel rails of a corral while watching Harper slowly leading Maverick on Tornado around and around. Roman is standing immediately next to me, leaning his forearms against the top row of metal piping, while his parents stand a few feet away on Roman’s other side, snapping photos, cheering, and taking endless videos.
“You look like Woody!” Roman’s father yells from behind his camera, at which point Roman’s mother effortlessly drops one of Woody’s famous lines fromToy Story,the oneabout there being a snake in his boot. Little Maverick responds with giggles and whoops.Tornado’s a small, slow-moving creature—a perfect first ride for any young child—but you’d never know her name was ironic based on Maverick’s enthralled reaction to riding her. Clearly, this kid feels like a cowboy expertly riding a bucking Shire stallion.
“Do you see me, Daddy?” Maverick shouts excitedly.
“I sure do, buddy! You’re doing great!” Roman pumps his fist to emphasize his point, and when he returns his hand to themetal railing, our fingers brush. Was that an accident, or did Roman intend to touch me like that? Either way, even that slight contact simultaneously sent a flutter of butterflies into my belly and a ripple of anxiety into my veins. I’m thrilled Roman is here. Seeing him again, if only once more, is all I’ve been dreaming about for weeks. But now that he’s here, I’m wary about reading too much into it. Like my mother always used to say, “Disappointment is merely another word for anexpectationgoing unfulfilled,” so I’m determined not to expect too much out of this unexpected visit.
“Are yousureyou’ve never ridden a horse before?” Roman’s father calls out to his grandson, jerking my thoughts back to the present.
“No, really, it’s my first time ever, Grampa!” Maverick calls out earnestly, not picking up on his grandfather’s sarcasm. In a flash, I recall that cute little boy (Roman’s son) emerging from the bathroom at the airport in Kauai, calling out to his grandmother (Roman’s mother—oh my God) about “what else” he saw in the bathroom. Seriously, what are the odds I felt compelled to tell Roman a cute story about his own son without realizing it? I’ve never been one to believe in signs all that much, like Ava apparently does, but I must admit that sure feels like one. Is there a greater power at work here—one that’s been pushing me toward these specific people—or am I simply grasping at straws and believing what I want to believe?
Roman bumps my side gently and whispers, “He’s having the time of his life.”
My heart skips a beat at Roman’s brief contact. “He’s doing great,” I reply. I clear my throat and shout to Maverick, “You’re almost as good a rider as me, Maverick, and I’ve been riding horses since I was even younger than you!”
Harper agrees with my sentiment as she continues her latest slow lap around the ring. To Maverick, she adds, “See howTornado’s ears are twitching? That means shereallylikes you.” As Maverick gasps excitedly, Harper shoots me a secret wink, letting me know she’s as smitten with this cutie pie as I am.
“Thanks for doing this for him,” Roman whispers to me. As he says it, he nudges his body against mine again, sending another round of shock waves coursing through me. “He’s gonna be talking about this all week. Maybe even for months.”
“It’s my pleasure. He’s adorable.”
“Glad you think so, too.” He nudges me a third time, his body language flirtatious and playful, and when I dare to look up into his face, he smiles and winks, prompting my heart to momentarily beat in an irregular rhythm.
I take a deep breath. “Do you remember that little boy from the airport I told you about?” When Roman looks at me blankly, I add, “The one who answered ‘my pee-pee’ when his grandmother asked what else he saw in the bathroom besides a whale painted on the wall? That was Maverick, Roman.”
Roman looks flabbergasted. “Seriously? That’s crazy.”
“Isn’t it? I can’t believe it.”
Roman glances at his mother, who’s currently fixated on Maverick in the corral. And when he returns to me, his smile fades. Indeed, something I’d label as regret overtakes his handsome face. “If only I’d told you about Maverick when you told me that story,” he says softly, “maybe things would have turned out differently for us.”
I’m floored. “You not telling me about Maverick till later in the week isn’t the reason we parted ways, Roman. The timing wasn’t right for us back then.” I hold my breath. I’m not sure if the timing is right for us now, to be honest, but as my words came out, I felt a dangerous pang of expectation seize me—the fervent hope that now could be the right time and that things might turn out differently for us this time.
Roman drags his teeth over his lower lip, mulling that over.When he speaks, his dark eyes are locked with mine. “In Hawaii,” he says softly, “you said you didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t when it came to me. I haven’t been able to get that comment out of my head, Iris. It’s tortured me.” He runs a large palm down his face. “If only I’d been brave enough to follow your lead—to let my guard down the way you did—maybe we could have overcome the bad timing.”
In what way? What does that mean? What does he expect to get out of this week in Orchard Blossom?“I didn’t open up to you voluntarily,” I manage to say. “I was forced to do it by that stupid video, remember? If not for that, who knows what kind of mysterious femme fatale I’d have pretended to be for the entire week.”
Roman snorts. “You really think you’re capable of pretending to be someone you’re not? If you ask me, one of the best things about you is you wear your heart on your sleeve. That’s why what you said in Kauai has haunted me so much—because I never for a minute doubted what was real when it came to you. Never. The fact that you didn’t feel the same way meant I messed up really, really badly.”
“Okay, first of all,” I say playfully, “How dare you imply I’m not capable of pretending to be a mysterious femme fatale. Granted, attempting that probably would have proved difficult for me. It maybe even would have gone against my very nature to do it. But I choose to believe I can pull off anything I set my mind to.”
The side of Roman’s mouth hitches up. His dark eyes are gleaming. “I stand corrected. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to pick a fight.”
“I forgive you. But second of all, you didn’t mess up, okay? You heard your mom—there are no coincidences. Everything is happening, right on time, exactly as it should.”
Roman’s gaze drifts down to my lips, and the small channel of air between us suddenly feels charged. If Roman’s family weren’there, would he lean in to kiss me? It feels like it. If he did, I’d surely wrap my arms around his neck and devour his soft lips like my very life depended on it.
Roman runs a finger down my forearm. “Are you free for dinner tonight?”
