“We know. We’ve been trying to tell you that since you first hired her. And you know, I think most of us are here for her,” Conrad said. “Not that your congenial self isn’t worth spending time with.”
Roan glared at him, but Conrad continued, “She’s the reason this tavern feels like home to so many of us.”
“I know she is.” Roan wiped his damp hands on the towel slung over his shoulder. “I want to make sure I don’t lose her.”
“Good idea,” Conrad said. “How do you plan on doing that?”
Roan watched as Abigail made her way over to them before he could answer, sidling up next to him with a mischievous grin. “Talking about me, gentlemen?” she asked as she reached for Conrad’s empty ale and refilled it.
Roan looked down at her and shook his head. He hadn’t even noticed that Conrad had finished it. She was a distraction in every way possible. Fortunately, she seemed much less distracted than he was, and she was doing a fantastic job of managing the tavern despite his lack of attention.
“We were,” he admitted as she came back and passed the full drink to Conrad. “He said I’d better be careful with you.”
“I agree with him,” Abigail said, winking in his direction as she hurried away again to help someone else with something.
Roan couldn’t stop watching her.
“Oh, you’ve got it bad,” Conrad said with a grin. “I can only hope to be that head over heels for somebody, someday.”
“I hope the same for you.” Roan turned to reach for the damp tankards sitting on the counter next to him and began wiping them down with the towel.
If someone could make him so happy…he had no doubts that there was someone who would do the same for Conrad someday.
Abigail had changed his life completely, and he couldn’t imagine ever letting her go.
He watched as she made her way back behind the counter, setting down the empty tankards she’d taken from Tom and Edgar’s table.
“You think Conrad was right, hm?”
She smiled at him and his whole world grew brighter. “Of course I think he was right,” she said. “I know you’re careful with everything you do.”
She turned and bustled away again with fresh tankards, and Roan sighed.
He wasn’t careful with everything he did.
He’d stopped being careful to guard his heart.
When he woke the next morning, Roan rolled over, and Beastie immediately shot to her feet, bounding toward the kitchen. Had she just been waiting for him to wake up?
Silly dog.
Roan pulled his shirt on and smiled—it was clean.
Abigail had washed it yesterday and returned it to him shortly before they went to bed. She was doing far more for him than he’d ever expected.
And now he had to ask her for something else.
He made his way to the kitchen, where Abigail was still on the floor with her eyes closed while Beastie licked her hand.
“No, Beastie, not yet,” she whined.
“I can get the door.” Roan offered, trying to hide his smile.
Her eyes shot open, and she pulled the covers closer to her chest.
“Roan,” she squeaked. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“I’ll just take Beastie out,” Roan said with a chuckle as he followed the dog out the back door, leaving her in peace to finish getting ready for the day.
