Abigail laughed. “I didn’t eat, either,” she admitted, “for the same reason.”
“This is ridiculous.” Roan dropped the bowls on the counter and crossed his arms. “How are we supposed to carry on like this? We should just get married, and then I don’t have to pay you, and we can just live together.”
Abigail dropped the kettle and looked up at him with wide eyes.
“I mean, I wasn’t really proposing,” he stammered, glancing between the kettle, which had splashed water everywhere, and Abigail, “but I do think that maybe someday we should get married. I mean, if you want. Not that you have to. I know that you probably have better options. And why would you want to marry me when I’m just the tavern grump who’s rude to everyone, makes mistakes, and doesn’t know what he’s doing? And I am sure you have better options and shouldn’t waste yourself on me.”
“Now who’s talking too much?” Abigail teased, stepping closer and using her fingers to cover his mouth. “I don’t have any better options, and we can discuss this more later. I think it’s too soon, but I am definitely interested,” she said with a smile, removing her fingers and pressing a quick kiss to his lips before she whirled away to grab the kettle.
“Not so fast,” Roan growled, grabbing her arm and twirling her back toward him. “Do you mean that?” he asked.
Abigail’s eyes softened. “I do,” she said quietly. “I would love nothing more…but I do think it’s too soon.”
Roan sighed. “I think you’re right,” he said, even if he didn’t like it. Beastie pushed her way in between the twoof them and sat at their feet, looking up at them with her tongue out and panting.
“You just can’t stand not being in the middle of things, can you?” Roan asked, reaching over to pet her at the same time Abigail did. Their fingers brushed, and Roan used the opportunity to snag her hand and slide his fingers through hers.
“I can’t wait until you decide it’s time,” he said, squeezing her hand. “But I will wait as long as it takes.”
“I will let you know,” Abigail promised, pressing up on her toes to seal that promise with a kiss.
A few weeks after the curse had been broken, the tavern was completely different. Roan surveyed the room, which was full of people, and looked down at Abigail with a smile. She had planned this event to celebrate his birthday, but the real present was her. She was wearing his grandmother’s gown, looking absolutely stunning, and he had never been happier.
Everyone was here—his brother Nathaniel and his sweetheart, all their regulars, the blacksmith and hisdaughter, and more, including guests he didn’t quite recognize by name but recognized anyway.
It was an event fit for a king. Not that he was the king, but he felt like it as he looked around the room full of people, all of whom were paying him for food and drink, and the woman he loved. She had taken the budget from running negative every month to having extra this month, and this party promised to add even more to their coffers.
Which was perfect, because he wanted to propose to Abigail, and he needed to buy a ring.
Abigail brought out a whole mess of pies she had been baking all day, and Conrad reached over and helped himself to a piece promptly.
“I wasn’t serving that yet,” Abigail said with a teasing tone before walking away.
“She shouldn’t have put it in front of me, then,” Conrad pointed out, but he wasn’t talking to Roan. He was watching a young woman with coppery hair and a bright smile who was talking to Nathaniel and Thea.
“Who is she?” Roan asked, bumping Conrad on the shoulder.
“Her name is Linnea,” Conrad responded. “She’s training to cover the café while Nathaniel and Thea go on their honeymoon.”
Roan glanced at Linnea in surprise. He wouldn’t have picked her to be Conrad’s type, but Conrad hadn’t stopped looking at her since she entered the room. “Go for it, man,” he told him. “Women may be difficult sometimes, but they’re worth it.”
“I heard that,” Abigail said, appearing next to him with a mischievous grin. “I’m difficult?”
“In the best way possible, darling,” Roan said, pulling her close and wrapping his arm around her waist. “May I have this dance?”
“You’re just trying to get me to forget that you called me difficult,” she said, a wicked smile on her face, but she took the hand he held out and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.
Well, it wasn’t quite a dance floor, but a bit of extra space in the middle of the tavern counted.
At Roan’s nod, Lyle picked up his fiddle and began to play a merry tune. Abigail looked up at him, a question in her eyes, and Roan twirled her instead of answering. Yes, he’d arranged it with Lyle. Dancing with Abigail was one of his favorite things to do. “I love you,” he said, after twirling her and dipping her down before pulling her back up. “Thank you for fixing everything.”
“It’s what I do,” Abigail said, her eyes twinkling. “I improve everything.”
“Well, you’ve certainly improved me,” Roan said.
As they twirled around the floor, other couples joining them, satisfaction pulsed through him.
She had improved more than just him—she’d impacted everyone in this tavern for the better.
