“Shh,” I hushed him, though my heart did a little flip knowing he thought about me. I looked inside the bakery box.
I opened it, and big cinnamon rolls covered in frosting looked back at me. My stomach growled and I looked at him again.
“You forgot breakfast,” he accused matter factly.
“I did not.”
Rome raised a brow. “You ate anything more than maraschino cherries today?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
He nodded. “Thought so.”
“You can’t just show up and take care of me.”
“Watch me.”
I laughed and grabbed my coffee. I wasn’t going to think about the fact that he knew my coffee order, and that eating while I was working was the last thing on my mind.
“So, what are you bribing me for?”
He looked offended. “I bring you coffee, and suddenly I’m suspicious?”
“You brought cinnamon rolls, too.”
“Not bribing you, babe.”
I leaned against the counter. “Then why?”
Rome shrugged. “I wanted to see you.” The words were simple. Matter-of-fact. Like he wasn’t saying something that made my stomach flip.
I stared at him. “Oh.”
His expression softened. “Yeah.”
No games. No smooth lines. Just the truth, and somehow that was sexier than anything else.
I took a sip of coffee and immediately groaned. “This is perfect.”
“I know.”
“You got extra caramel.”
“I know what you like. You busy Sunday?” he asked.
I blinked. “No.” How did we go from extra caramel to what was I doing Sunday?
“Good.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why?
“You’re coming to my house.”
I stared. “Excuse me?”
“My house. I want you to see it.” He shrugged. “I’ve seen where you live. Now you need to see where I live.”
“You inviting me over?”
