The guest bathroom might have been dated but the tub was wide, deep and clean. There was even some fancy bubble bath mix beneath the sink, courtesy of James’s mother, who—according to him—believed all baths should be drowning in bubbles. Rose didn’t know if she agreed with it to that extent, but she poured in the lavender mix with the mindset of “when in Rome.”
Thoughts about bubbles, bombs and Damon Tillman melted away as soon as Rose lowered herself into the hot water. The stress she had been carrying for days didn’t go away but it had the peace of mind to pause.
Rose sighed out at the temporary relief.
Her thoughts floated around to simpler things. She wondered what she might have for breakfast the next day, what the weather might look like, about which house the couple on the TV show they had been watching ended up picking, and if James Keller took baths. Because, as she stretched her legs out and let her feet walk up the opposite end of the tub, she couldn’t imagine a man as big as him fitting in one that wasn’t extra-large.
She stayed with that image a little longer than she probably should have and then marveled at how ridiculous the last week or so of her life had gotten, from trying to get her car fixed to lounging in the mechanic’s tub. She decided to never again judge another movie heroine who went from a normal life to a chaotic one so quickly.
Rose’s thoughts doubled back to the man himself,and the image of him standing next to her in the grassy field earlier. He had been so vulnerable, so honest, with his past that Rose hadn’t known what to say—what to do. Putting on an act of being annoyed at trusting her around such a precious place was a last-second effort to remain unattached to his story.
But now she let her heart ache for him.
He had been through a lot and still found the bright side. A giant wall of an optimist wrapped in coveralls and muscle.
Rose started to smile, thinking about how he was still wearing his work coveralls, when a knock sounded on the door.
Her face instantly heated.
“Yeah?” she called.
The knock sounded again.
“I’m in the bath,” she added, not that he should need reminding.
Rose imagined a sheepish grin on James’s face on the other side of the door. Maybe he’d come to ask her if she needed anything or warn her about the old pipes or something.
But that knock came again.
Rose shifted in the bathwater, suddenly uncomfortable.
She eyed her phone on the counter, just out of arm’s reach.
Maybe James was just messing with her.
Maybe he was just trying to scare her?
Even as she thought it, Rose knew that wasn’t the case.
James might have acted childish on occasion, buthis manners were all well-behaved man. He wouldn’t interrupt her privacy without a good reason.
That was why, without thinking, Rose hadn’t locked the bathroom door.
And that was how, in what felt like slow motion, Rose watched that same door open.
Her opinion of James stayed true—he wasn’t the type of man to invade her privacy and that was why she had felt safe.
But the man standing in the doorway now?
Good manners or not, he was no James Keller at all.
Chapter Ten
He looked like he had simply taken a turn down the wrong aisle at the grocery store after work. Everything about him was dress-code appropriate. His blond hair was neat and cut close, his outfit was a collared shirt tucked into khakis, and his shoes might have been sneakers, but they could definitely pass if he wore them out to church.
It wasn’t just his clothes and hairstyle that gave the impression of office worker winding down from a long day, it was his looks that really sold the image well.
He was around Rose’s age and boy-next-door handsome. Not so much that it made those around him gawk but enough to appreciate. He had all the angles and hard lines across his face and dark eyes that ran more rich than muddy. The rest of him was just as middle-of-the-road. He looked around average-height and build. His clothes fit him comfortably, not too snug.
