“I know we’re getting to know each other here, babe,” he said, voice rough, “but I don’t play games.”
Babe.
The word shot straight to my stomach.
“I wanted to text you.” His hand tightened slightly at my waist. “So I texted you.”
I stared at him.
Actually stared.
Because...
Oh.
Oh.
I didn’t know what to do with that.
Rome watched me take it in. Watched the shock cross my face, and then his expression softened. Just a little. “So,” he said quietly. “You got an answer for me?”
I bit my bottom lip and immediately his eyes dropped to my mouth.
My pulse skipped. “If...” I cleared my throat. “If you’re sure you meant to ask me.”
Rome closed the distance between us and both hands settled at my waist, warm and steady. His thumbs brushed the fabric of my shirt. “I want you there with me, Josie.”
No hesitation.
No games.
No pretending.
Just the truth.
I stared up at him. At this man who crossed Main Street every day. Who brought burgers. Who gave me my first tattoo. Who kissed me like I mattered.
He wanted to take me with him.
Me.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Rome went still. “You mean that?”
I laughed softly. “Yeah.”
The look that crossed his face stole my breath.
Relief.
Satisfaction.
Something warmer.
His forehead dropped to mine.
For a second, neither of us moved, then I looked at his mouth.
