IF ROMAN HAD his way, it would have been Frankie who’d picked him up from the hospital and driven him back to the station house. He’d missed her and had been looking forward to seeing her again. Alone.
Instead, he found himself in one of the sheriff’s cruisers with Ozzy behind the wheel. An odd tension filled the car the instant the engine had started. “Everything okay, Oz?”
Ozzy shrugged.
“You’re awfully quiet.” Normally the one thing he didn’t have to worry about with the deputy was starting a conversation.
“Just a lot on my mind. How’s your head?” Ozzy asked.
“Still attached.” Roman tried to smile. “I suppose I’m the talk of the town. Again.”
“Well, yeah.” Ozzy shrugged a second time. “But not in the way you might think.”
“What’s that mean?”
Ozzy glanced at him, his usually friendly expression mired in distrust. “The mayor stopped by the station house yesterday. He told us you’re only staying about six months. Maybe a year. Said this was just a pit stop for you. Is that true?”
Roman let out a long breath. “The contract I signed was for six months, yes. That’s not unusual, Ozzy. In fact—”
“It’s unusual for Butterfly Harbor.” Ozzy glared out the windshield. “People come here, they stick. They don’t use us as a résumé builder.”
“Boy, he didn’t pull any punches, did he?” Roman should have expected the mayor to retaliate over their initial budget discussion. Gil had bided his time, knew exactly when to strike. “Look, Ozzy...” He trailed off, recalling the deputy’s words. “What do you mean, he told us? Who else knows about this?”
“You mean other than Frankie?” Ozzy’s smile was humorless and quick. “By now pretty much everyone. Don’t worry. You bailing on us isn’t the main topic of discussion.”
Roman was almost afraid to ask. “May as well unload it all on me at once, Oz.”
“The mayor is talking about closing the department. Farming out emergency calls to a contract service or another town.”
“He’s what?”
Ozzy glanced at him, clearly surprised, telling Roman the deputy assumed he’d known. “He dropped that bombshell on Frankie, too. Said when you leave, that’ll be the end of the BHFD. Budgetary considerations.” Ozzy rolled his eyes.
“I’m out of commission for a day and a half and this place goes off the rails. I didn’t know, Ozzy. I swear.” Another shrug from the deputy. “Darn it, cut that out. Stop acting like none of this is a big deal. It’s a big deal.”
“I agree. Not sure what we can do about it, though.”
“We’ll do something.” He may have only been here a few weeks, but he wasn’t going to let this happen to such a sweet town. He couldn’t. Not when he’d witnessed firsthand the important role the fire department played, not only in terms of saving people’s lives, but in the community, too. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Was Gil right about you? Are you leaving?”
“Not for the foreseeable future, Oz. I’ve made a commitment, and as long as I have my contract, I expect to stick to it.” And he expected the mayor to hold up his end of that contract, as well. “I suppose I don’t have to ask how Frankie took the news.”
“About you leaving or about closing the station?”
Both. “The station.”
“She’s taking up arms. Well, the town is, but Frankie’s leading the charge. All that’s missing is the horse and sword.”
For now, Roman thought.
“Did they tell you how long you’re going to be in that cast?” Ozzy glanced over to Roman’s right leg, protected from toe to knee.
“Six to eight weeks.” If he was lucky.
“Boy, this is making for one crappy Christmas.” Ozzy shook his head. “First, your broken leg, now this threat to close the department.”
“We’ll figure it out, Oz.”
“I hope you’re right.” But the deputy didn’t look convinced as he pulled the cruiser into the spot in front of the firehouse. “I’ll get your crutches out of the back seat.”
“Thanks.” Roman shoved open the door and planted his good leg on the ground, grateful for the extra moment of quiet and fresh air. Two days in the hospital was enough to drive him slightly around the bend. Finally, he could get his bearings again, figure out how to do his job with one leg holding him back and unravel the knots Gil Hamilton had tied the town into. The Butterfly Harbor fire station had never looked so good.
Roman accepted the crutches and hobbled away from the car door.
“Roman Kenneth Salazar!”
His name snapped through the air, and the blood drained from his face. That voice.
He knew that voice.
Roman might have tripped Ozzy, had the deputy not darted out of the way.
“Mom?” Roman stood there, hands white-knuckled around the crutches, and stared. Could this day get any worse?
Esmeralda “Ezzie” Salazar, all five feet of her, stood in front of the open garage door, the company’s shiny engine behind her, jet-black hair piled on top of her head in its usual knot. “Mom, what are you—?”
“What did you think I was going to do when I found out you were hurt? Stay in Boston and fret it out?”
“Perish the thought.” Why was he being punished? “Mom, stop. Stop! Okay, Mom. Don’t make me use this!” He jumped back two steps as his mother approached, crutch held hip high to ward her off. “I am fine. It’s a simple break and—”
“And a broken nose and concussion. You bruised your brain!” She pushed the crutch aside and stood before him, her hands on either side of his no doubt red face as she looked him over more closely than the MRI. “You silly, silly boy.” She patted his cheek. “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
He saw it then, glistening in the gaze he saw in the mirror every day. The worry. The anger. The fear. The same fear he’d seen when he’d announced his intention to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a fireman. The same fear he’d seen in Shirley Desmond’s eyes when Amelia had been trapped. The fear he’d pretended not to see on the faces of hundreds of people he’d been called on to help.
“I’m fine, Mom.” He gentled his tone. “Comes with the job, remember?” Balancing on one leg, he settled both the crutches in his other hand and drew her close. For a moment, he was a five-year-old boy being tended to by his mother for a scraped knee and busted lip. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here.” But as she wrapped her arms around him, he was glad she had. She might frustrate him from time to time, but it had been far too long since they’d seen each other. It did raise the question... “How did you know what happened?”
“Oh, Frankie told me.” Her eyes narrowed when she pulled back to look at him. “She finally answered when I called your phone. I find it interesting you neglected to inform me Frankie is a woman.”
Yes, yes, she was. A woman he’d had a hard time putting out of his mind the past couple of days. Who was he kidding? He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her from the moment they’d first met. Roman looked over the top of his mother’s head and found Frankie watching them, an amused smile on her stunningly pretty face. He’d missed her. How had that happened? He’d actually missed her. But he didn’t like the disappointed note in her stunning green eyes before she turned and walked back into the station. “Does it matter?”
“Does it matter? How big a bruise to the brain did you get?” Ezzie patted a hand against her heart. “Certainly, it matters. Now come inside. I’m fixing dinner. You’re both skin and bones.”
“YOU LIKE MY SON.”
Frankie nearly veered Dwayne off the road. “I’m sorry?”
Esmeralda Salazar shifted around in the passenger seat and faced her. The older woman possessed an elegance Frankie hadn’t anticipated. Her slim figure displayed the classic black slacks and bright emerald-green blouse perfectly. A thin gold chain around her neck displayed a dainty cross along with what Frankie assumed was her late husband’s wedding band.
“You like my son.”
Frankie heard herself gulp. “Mrs. Salazar—”
“Ezzie. Everyone calls me Ezzie, Frankie.” She pinned those same eyes her son possessed on her. “You like my son.”
“Of course I like Roman. Everyone likes Roman. He’s very easy to like.” There. That ought to satisfy her.
“He likes you, too. I can see it. A mother knows these things.”
If you say so. Frankie punched the accelerator and zoomed up the hill to the Flutterby Inn. Once she parked in front of the three-story Victorian structure, she paused and said to Roman’s surprisingly intimidating mother, “Mrs....Ezzie. Your son and I work together. We’ve become friends. That’s all there is.” Even if the man did kiss like a dream and leave her wanting more.
“Ha! You lie.” Ezzie snorted and pushed open the door. “Oh, this is lovely. Would you look at that. It’s like a postcard, isn’t it?”
Frankie climbed out of the vehicle and joined Ezzie at the base of the stairs. The Flutterby was indeed lovely. The historic inn had been through its paces over the decades, but in the last few years, under new ownership, it had been revitalized and had become a beacon both on the cliffs of the West Coast and as a major tourist destination.
With its bright yellow siding and glistening white trim, the inn was always stunning, but at the holidays? With the endless poinsettias planted around the expansive front yard, the icicle lights strung along the wraparound porch and every window outlined with tiny lighted stars, there was little more beautiful in town once the sun set. Tiny fairy lights twinkled in the flower beds and in the bushes surrounding the inn, all the way, Frankie knew, around the expanse of the building and vacation cabins at the back of the property.
“I can’t believe there are any vacancies,” Ezzie said as Frankie lugged not one, but two suitcases out of the SUV. “How lucky was that?”
It wasn’t luck at all, but Frankie calling in a favor with Abby Corwin, the inn’s manager.
“I could have stayed at the station, you know,” Ezzie told her as they climbed the wooden stairs. “It wouldn’t have been a bother. You have plenty of room there.”
All it had taken was one pained expression from Roman upon hearing that suggestion from his mom for Frankie to pick up the phone. She might be nursing a good mad at him, but she wasn’t heartless. Nor was she still in denial about her future with the Butterfly Harbor Fire Department. Gil might not be the most honest person, but she absolutely believed him when he’d stated he had every intention of closing the station house. Even if he changed his mind, she wouldn’t be getting the chief’s position. Ever. But that didn’t matter, not in comparison to losing the station. She’d fight with everything she had, everything she was.
And ignore the nausea and concern that continued to plague her.
“Oh, my. My, my.” Ezzie stopped just inside the door and clasped her hands to her cheeks. Her black hair glistened, as did her face against the flickering flames in the fireplace. “Where’s my phone? I have to take pictures to send to my sisters right away. This is just lovely. So, so lovely.”
Frankie left Ezzie fawning over the seashell-and seahorse-themed Christmas tree in the corner of the lobby and lugged the bags toward the desk. “Hey, Willa,” she greeted the part-time reception manager. “Is Lori or Abby around?”
Jasper’s older sister tugged at the edges of her gray cardigan and tucked her long brown hair behind her ear. “I’ll just let them know you’re here.”
“Great, thanks.” Frankie rapped her knuckles on the counter and watched Ezzie use her phone to take picture after picture of every inch of the lobby.
“I’ve seen this before, I know it.” Ezzie looked to Frankie. “Where would I have seen this hotel before? You!” She pointed and stalked past Frankie to where Abby emerged from the dining room. “You were married here. I saw it in magazines.”
“I—Hello.” Abby shot a knowing glance at Frankie and, without saying a word, smiled in a way that told Frankie she now understood Frankie’s desperation in finding Ezzie a room. “You must be Mrs. Salazar. And yes, I was married here last year.” She brushed a hand over her stomach before introducing Lori, who had appeared next to Abby. “This is Lori Knight, Mrs. Salazar.”
“Oh, it’s Ezzie, please. Everyone calls me Ezzie. And congratulations!” Ezzie grabbed Abby and hauled her in for a hug. “You must be so excited.”
“Well, I’ve had a year to get used to him,” Abby laughed and patted the older woman on the back.
“I meant about the baby!” Ezzie said. “When are you due? Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl? It’s your first, isn’t it?”
“Baby?” Lori gasped.
Frankie let go of the suitcases and they clunked to the floor. “Baby?”
“Oh!” Ezzie slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, you hadn’t said anything. I’m so sorry, I always seem to know these things and, oh, my Tony would be mortified. He always said I couldn’t keep a secret.”
“It’s okay.” Abby reached out and took her hands. “We were planning on announcing at Christmas.”
“And I spoiled the news. Oh, I’m horrible! Just horrible.”
“You’re delightful,” Abby gave her a fast hug. “And you are more than welcome in Butterfly Harbor.”
“Hang on, I need a hug!” Lori reached out and grabbed Abby. “A baby!”
“Well, I can’t let you get too many ahead of me.”
“You’re pregnant, too?” Frankie gasped. What was in the water these days? The population was exploding.
“No.” Lori’s lips curved. “We’ve been trying, but no. We’re adopting. Matt and I just got the call a few weeks ago. His name is Leo and he’s six years old. He’s been in foster care for the last year and a half.” Lori pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. “Here.”
“Oh!” Ezzie grabbed the phone like a proud grandmother. “He’s stunning. Look at that blond hair! And those cheeks! Oh, congratulations to you, too.” That earned another round of hugs.
“I’m so happy for you, Lori.” Frankie handed the phone back after getting her fill of the little boy. “When will you get him?”
“Planned for next week, but we’ll see.” Lori smoothed a nervous hand down the front of her striped maxidress. “Kyle’s helping decorate his room. They’ve been talking online, on video chat and email. He seems genuinely excited about being a big brother.”
Considering not so long ago Kyle had no family, Frankie wasn’t surprised. The young man had turned more corners than Frankie thought possible, and a lot of his progress was due to the fact that he’d been adopted, not only by Deputy Matt Knight, but also by Lori, who had taken to motherhood as if she’d been born for it. He even worked part-time as a handyman around town. And he was good. Really good.
“Let’s see about getting you into your room, Ezzie,” Abby said.
Frankie did her due diligence and carried Ezzie’s bags to the second-floor room that Abby kept in reserve for emergency guests. It wasn’t a large room, no bigger than one of the station house rooms, but it was beautifully decorated in muted ocean tones and had a view of the water beyond the cliffs.
“If you want to come back to the station tomorrow morning, I’ll be getting off shift at eight. I can come drive you over then.”
“Oh, heavens, Frankie, I don’t expect you to shuttle me around town. I’ll find my own way there. After breakfast, of course. I was looking at the menu for the restaurant here. I plan to make the most of my time while I’m visiting. Speaking of which.” Ezzie sat on the edge of the double bed and looked at her. “What can I help with?”
“Help with?” Why did Frankie feel as if she’d just croaked that question?
“One thing about me, I don’t sit still. I always need to be doing something. What’s this nonsense I’m hearing about the station house closing?”
If only it were nonsense. “We’re still trying to figure it all out ourselves,” Frankie admitted. “I’m hoping it’s an idea that won’t get past the town council. In any case, it’s nothing for you to worry about. You should enjoy your stay.” Especially since it was clear her staying had the added benefit of driving Roman to distraction. The image of big, strong firefighter Roman all but wilting into a little boy in his mother’s presence brought some levity to the situation.
“You have my cell number if you need anything. I have to be getting back. No telling what trouble your son’s getting into.”
“No more than usual, I’m sure. Frankie.” Ezzie stood and slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Thank you for telling me about what happened. I know I’m a pest to have around, but I couldn’t stand the idea of Roman being hurt and not being within earshot to help. Especially during the holidays. Please humor me the next few days.”
“I don’t have to humor you. You’re his mother. Sure you were concerned.”
“You’re a good girl, Frankie. I can see why my son likes you.”
Frankie rolled her eyes. “Don’t start that again. Roman and I are friends, Ezzie. And he’s my boss, not to mention he won’t be here very long. Please don’t expect it will ever be more.” Because she wouldn’t let it become more. She couldn’t. She might have entertained the warm thought before, but she certainly couldn’t now. Not when it was clear he’d be leaving.
And sooner rather than later.
IT HAD BEEN a week. A long, torturous, stomach-clenching week since his mother had arrived. Beyond feeling restless over his imprisonment at the station house, beyond feeling angry for letting Gil get one over on him where the station’s budget was concerned, the darned cast on Roman’s leg was itching as if he had an ant hill living beneath the plaster. If, and that was a big if, he managed to keep his weight off his leg for two weeks, the doctor had told him he’d switch him out to a walking cast, meaning he could ditch the crutches. But until then...
Pots and pans clanged in the kitchen, followed by the muted, although not totally unfamiliar, mutterings of Jasper trying to get a handle on preparing meals. Their probie had decided, without much input from either Roman or Frankie, that he’d take up residence in one of the rooms upstairs while Roman was out of commission. He wasn’t expecting to go out on calls, but he could take care of the busy and scut work, freeing Frankie to focus on the emergencies. Personally, Roman had the feeling Jasper was sticking around in case Roman fell flat on his face—a good possibility, given his lackluster talent with his new metal companions. He’d only tripped a few times. So far.
He clicked his way out of the entertainment room and planted himself behind the desk, waiting for Frankie to get back. They needed to talk. About a lot of things, but she had shown no interest in conversing with him. In fact, she seemed to be going out of her way to avoid him. Not an easy task considering the close quarters. When another pan hit the ground, he’d had enough.
“Jasper, it’s after nine,” Roman called as his head pounded. “How about you turn in and leave whatever’s left for tomorrow.” When his head had a bit more time to heal. The constant noise wasn’t doing anything to help.
“You sure?” Jasper poked his head around the corner. “I’m almost done with the—”
“I’m sure.” Roman was resisting the urge to dig into his pocket for the painkillers the doctor had prescribed. “Go ahead. If there’s a call, you’ll hear about it.”
“You think Frankie will take me with her this time?” His dark eyes went wide with excitement.
“I’ll talk to her about it when she gets back. Go on.”
“Great. I have a chapter on accelerants I’ve been waiting to read. ’Night, Chief.”
“’Night, Jasper.” The smile that curved his lips surprised him. Aside from the broken leg and the eccentric citizens, Butterfly Harbor was growing on him, far more than he’d ever expected. He groaned at the sight of the endless boxes piled every which way and added that to the top of his list to deal with tomorrow. He retrieved his laptop and flash drive and settled back in at the desk.
The updates he’d planned to add to his résumé halted suddenly. So far Ozzy was the only one who had come straight out and asked him about his short-term contract and plans to move on. Either Frankie and everyone else were ignoring that bit of information or they didn’t want to talk about it. He could understand that. He didn’t want to talk about it, mainly because...well. Because he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to do.
Huffing out a breath, he clicked his laptop shut and tidied up the desk. When he found himself sorting paperclips from rubber bands, he realized he’d hit his frustration quota. He grabbed the stack of scratch paper off the corner of the desk, pulled open the bottom left drawer and froze. Plan of Action. The green folder staring back at him had Frankie’s distinctive cursive on the front.
He pulled the folder free, flipped it open and scanned the collection of pages. The well-thought-out list of improvements and streamlining for both the station house and the department in general was as well organized as he’d have expected. She didn’t miss a detail—even had a list of pros and cons for each item she thought should be implemented. She’d worked out the benefits and costs of various scheduling templates, too, including the one he’d switched them to. The one she’d scratched out as impractical and said needs more thought.
On the last page, he found a handwritten note, an afterthought, perhaps, that simply said, “find Dad’s plans.” Her father’s plans for what? Roman wondered as he heard the distinctive rumble of the bay door opening and Dwayne sliding into place beside the engine.
He tucked the file back in the drawer discreetly. He looked up when he heard the rattle of her keys.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“It is now.” Frankie managed a quick smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Good thing Charlie called us. Mrs. Hastings accidentally took too much of her diabetes medication, and her numbers crashed. We got it under control.”
“Glad she’s okay.” Roman had to admit, having breakfast with Mrs. Hastings on Thursday mornings had become a routine he enjoyed.
“Your mom head back to the hotel?”
“Just after you left,” Roman said, hating the forced polite conversation they’d been falling into recently. The night had gone quiet. They were in for the evening—he hoped.
“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you.” She redid her ponytail. “Is your mom some kind of psychic?”
Roman looked at her.
“Seriously,” Frankie said. “She knew...something about Abby she hadn’t told anyone about. It was kind of spooky.”
“She has a weird kind of radar for pregnant women. She knew my cousin Elena was pregnant even before she did. Mom made her go out and buy a pregnancy test on Thanksgiving. Made for an interesting holiday, that’s for sure. Why? Is Abby pregnant?”
“Just about three months, it seems.” Frankie grabbed her sweatshirt off a peg. “They were planning on announcing at Christmas.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Roman rubbed his fingers across his aching forehead. “I’ll have a talk with her.”
“It’s fine, Roman. Abby was kind of relieved to be able to tell someone. Your mom’s promised to keep it to herself until Abby and Jason announce.”
“So Abby and Jason are going to have a baby. That’s pretty great.”
“Yeah.” Frankie headed down the hall to the entertainment room.
Roman considered himself a smart man, but even smart men had to push the boundaries of conversation at some point. Especially if they wanted pertinent information. He retrieved his crutches and pushed himself to his feet, clomping his way down the hall. “I asked Jasper to finish the dishes up tomorrow,” Roman told her when he found her curled up in the corner of the worn leather sofa, a gaming controller in her hands.
“That’s fine.” The TV screen remained blank even as she stared at it. She’d put up a smaller Christmas tree in here, complete with twinkling lights and a crooked handmade tinfoil star.
“You ever think about having kids?”
That got her attention. Her head snapped up, eyes flashing. “Do I ever what?”
“You heard me. You seem to like them. You’re great with Phoebe, and you seem happy for Abby.”
“I am happy for Abby. Yeah, I think about it from time to time. Haven’t really had to, you know—” she shrugged “—give it serious attention. You?”
“Me what?” He lowered himself beside her and stretched out his leg with a wince. Maybe it was time for one of those painkillers after all.
“I’ve met your mother, Roman,” Frankie said. “Don’t tell me she hasn’t given you the ‘when am I going to be a grandmother’ lecture.”
“Why do you think I moved across the country?”
Frankie smirked.
“Ha, I know. Bad joke. Maybe it’s half-true. I almost got engaged once.”
Frankie’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Don’t sound so shocked. Some women think I’m a catch.”
She discarded the controller and faced him, resting her cheek in her palm. The way she looked at him, with an overbright smile and fluttering lashes, had him laughing. “Did the almost fiancée throw you back?”
Ah, there was the Frankie he’d come to... Roman swallowed, diving hard and fast away from any completion of that thought. “In a way. When the discussion turned to kids.”
“She didn’t want them?”
“Oh, she wanted them. I did, too. A whole houseful.”
“For the record, that would scare off a lot of women.”
“What can I say?” Roman grinned. “I’m an only child.”
“And the unknown is always more appealing than the known. So AF—”
“AF?”
“Almost Fiancée. She bolted at the idea?”
“She made it clear she wasn’t about to have a family with a man who might not come home at the end of his shift.”
Frankie glanced away. “I imagine that crosses a lot of people’s minds when it comes to our jobs.”
“Does it cross yours?”
“It does, actually. I know what it’s like when a parent doesn’t come home. No one’s ever the same. The grief never goes away. It settles. Here.” She pressed a hand over her heart. “I’d never want that for my child.” Now she met his gaze and didn’t waver. “I don’t want it for myself.”
“Life’s not worth living without taking a few chances.” It was all he could do not to reach out and stroke a finger down her cheek. “Living in fear of what might happen robs you of any happiness you might find in the meantime.”
“That’s a pretty serious statement to come out of a fortune cookie.”
“My mom married a firefighter, and that turned out pretty well.” He hesitated, but then decided to dive in. “Your mom married one, too.”
“I don’t think Roxie is the best example to use in this discussion.” Frankie’s eyes clouded with disinterest. “She married the uniform, not the man. Something that was made very obvious when he died.”
“Oh?”
“Let’s just say my mother clutched the flag she was given harder than she ever hugged me or Monty.” She waved away the comment. “That’s neither here nor there.”
Oh, but it was there. He could feel the pain she was carefully trying to conceal. “So...kids of your own?”
Frankie looked at him. “I’d like them. At least one. But there’s a lot of life I have to figure out before I make that decision. What about your AF? Did she ever have kids?”
Roman nodded. “Four. All under seven.”
“Ugh. Ouch.” Frankie winced. “What’s her husband do? Let me guess. He’s a nice safe accountant.”
“He’s a Navy SEAL.”
Frankie blinked. “A...huh.”
“Yep.” Roman gave that slow nod of disbelief. “Seems she changed her mind once she met the right guy.”
“Sorry about that.”
“I’m not.” And he wasn’t. Because he was just now realizing that if he’d taken that path, he never would have come to Butterfly Harbor. Or met Frankie. “I’m glad she was honest and saved me the embarrassment of actually asking her. We wouldn’t have lasted. Obviously we weren’t the other’s one.”
“Do you believe in that? People having ‘the one’?” She air-quoted it.
He was beginning to. But no way would Frankie ever believe him. “Who’s to say? But it does remind me of something I’ve been wanting to do.”
“What’s that?”
“This.” Before she could say another word, he reached out, cupped his hand against the back of her neck and brought her closer to him. He’d needed to know if what he’d felt on the beach was real or simply an effect of a moon working its magic. Kissing her, feeling her mouth under his, hearing her gentle sigh as she sank into him erased any doubt and had his meticulously mapped-out future taking an unplanned turn into the unknown. “You’re something, Frankie, you know that?” he murmured against her lips when she leaned back. “Everything all rolled into one amazing, beautiful, infuriating package.”
“Roman...” She shook her head. “Whatever it is you think is happening—”
“I know what’s happening. And I don’t want to stop it. I like you. A lot.”
He heard her breath catch in hope, but when she raised her head, he saw sadness shimmering in her eyes. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” He stroked a finger down her cheek and felt oddly alone when she turned away from his touch and stood up.
“Because.” She looked over her shoulder. “You’re not staying.”