“It’ll be okay. Just breathe it out.”
Beth sucked in a short gasp, then a longer one. Eventually, the tears stopped. “I forgot the anniversary of his death. Forgot.” She sniffled. “Because I was busy with you.”
Ah shit… “It’s going to be okay.”
“That was his sister calling to check on me.”
Even worse. “Don’t know what to say to that.”
“I forgot the worst day of my life because I was too busy making up best days instead.”
Best days of her life? With him. He nodded then stood and carried her down the hall, kicked open her bedroom door and lay on the bed with her. Roman let Beth burrow into him. He didn’t look at the alarm clock, didn’t wonder if he could hear their phones in case their go-call came in. He just smoothed her hair and waited.
Minutes later, she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and peeked up at him. “Hi.”
His lips quirked. “Pretty girl.”
“I feel better. I think. I need to go wash my face.” She got up and went into the bathroom.
When she returned, he held her tighter.
“Say something so this isn’t awkward,” she whispered to his chest.
“So…” He shifted her even closer, his lips brushing against her temple. “One of these days, you’re going to have to get into a fight with me about me.”
She laughed quietly, then she locked her pinky finger around his. “I said a lot, and most of it was mean and ugly. Maybe all of it.”
He shrugged. “Shit happens. Not sure you meant any of it.”
“I didn’t.”
“See? There you go.” He squeezed her finger.
“I’m sorry.”
He took her chin in his hand and kissed her lips. “I know.”
Beth smiled. “What now?”
“Whatever we want.”
CHAPTER FORTY
A bright, shiny, post-fight morning interrupted Beth’s lazy sleep. Go away, morning. She had no plans to leave the warm confines of her bed and Roman’s naked hold.
“Beth?” the morning whispered.
That was concerning. Times of day shouldn’t talk. Still, Beth ignored whatever was tugging her awake, relaxing into slumber again as Roman’s heavily draped arm snuggled her deeper into the bed. God, Roman smelled like heaven after the hell of last night.
“Beth?” morning whispered, more urgently, a little louder.
Seriously. Go away, morning.
“Beth! Are you okay?”
Her eyes shot open as the bedroom door bounced against the wall. Nicola stood there, looking ready to kill. “Nic, wh—”
“Beth!” she shout-hissed.
Was this still a dream? Nope. There was Nicola.
“Oh, my God. What happened out there? There’s broken glass and a red stain on the wall—” Nicola’s mouth twisted as she stopped abruptly, covering her face. “Please tell me that’s not my brother’s naked ass cheek facing up from your bed.”
Without acknowledging he was awake, Roman tugged the covers over his butt.
Beth’s face heated to the level of might-die-on-the-spot. “Oh, my God.”
“You should call first,” Roman grumbled from beneath the pillow.
“I did. No one answered.”
“So you just come over?” he asked, face still buried, which was helpful because Beth was having a hard time putting words into sentences and explaining… everything.
Nicola raised her eyebrows, pointing to her stomach. It all came rushing back. They needed to talk. “It’s what we do, Roman. If you don’t mind, I need to talk to my girl.”
“Nothing to talk about,” he said.
“Not everything revolves around you, buddy.” Nicola made a face and beckoned Beth out of the room.
Beth wrapped the bedspread around her chest. “Give me two minutes.”
“Fine,” Nicola said, leaving the bedroom. “I’ll just clean up out here. Gives me something to do to rid my mind of that”—she made a gagging noise—“image.”
Beth rubbed her eyes and stared at Roman’s perfect body, which he hadn’t done a very good job of covering. “Should we tell people?”
He turned over, and good Lord, his mussed hair and sleepy grin might be her death. “About us? Talk if you want. I don’t care. Not going to change what I do or say. But you might as well before they tell each other, if that’s your concern.” He bunched his pillow, readjusted his frame, then looked at the door. “I thought she had the flu.”
Beth’s stomach jumped. “She does.” That sounded way too high and fast.
His eyes had closed anyway, as if he had dozed off in the half-second it took for her to answer. Her lying ability was pathetically questionable around him. That didn’t say much for her CIA training.
“I’ll be back in a few.” Beth slid toward the edge of bed, but his strong, rough hand caught her wrist.
Roman tugged her toward him, wrapping a thick arm around her. “Come back to bed. ASAP.”
“We have to catch up.”
“Then catch up fast, and come back. Fast.”
Beth crawled over him. “And why should I do that?”
He turned over, anchoring his hands on her hips as she straddled him. “Should I count the reasons?”
She nodded, giggling. “Please.”
“One. You’re too beautiful to be running around when I wake up hard as a rock. Two, you’re a fantastic fuckin’ lay. That’d help with my hard-as-a-rock problem.”
She shook her head but smiled even bigger. “Selfish. All men think about is—”
“And three, I want to watch your face while I make you come.”
Her jaw dropped. As fast as she’d lost her ability to speak, he flipped her on her back, hovering above her, then kissed her deeply. He wasn’t kidding. The man was rock hard and rubbing between her legs.
He rolled her to the edge of the bed. “Talk fast. I’ll be here.”
She untangled herself from his arms, and he patted her bottom. She jumped with a yip and giggled. “Roman!”
She threw on some sweats. With a quick glance in the mirror, she decided she didn’t look too sex-crazed and went to down the hall. Nicola was dumping the shattered wine glass in the trash.
“So…” Nicola’s brows arched, and her smile was one hundred percent interested in gossip. “You and Roman.”
Beth tilted her head, looking anywhere but at Nicola’s face. “Me and Roman.”
“Are we talking wedding bells?”
Beth’s eyes snapped forward. “Christ, Nic. Not everyone believes in happy endings. It’s just…” She twirled her hand in the air. “A thing.” It was so not just a thing. He’d professed love. She’d had two major mental breakdowns. It was messy and complicated, and she couldn’t imagine not going back to him the second Nicola left.
Nicola turned and rummaged through Beth’s pantry. “Got any crackers?”
“You’re acting like Cash, going through my cabinets.”
“He eats non-stop because he burns it off. I need to eat right now, or I’m liable to dry heave on your perfect floor. Speaking of perfect, let’s talk about your wine-covered wall. You do that? Damage your perfectly made-up condo? I’m shocked.”
“I threw a glass of wine at him.” Beth shrugged, downplaying it.
“Shit.” Nicola threw her head back, laughing. “I would have paid to see that.”
When Nicola finally calmed down, Beth leveled her a serious gaze. “Do you think there’s any of me in this condo?”
“Nope.”
Beth’s brow pinched. “That was fast.”
“Well, no kidding. Easy question gets an easy answer.”
“Why?”
“Well…” Nicola pulled out a sleeve of saltines and waved them over her head. “Success.”
“I have no idea how old those are.”
She opened the plastic and took a bite of one. “Doesn’t matter. Stale is fine. So long as it’s tasteless.”
“R
ight. So let’s talk about what’s important here.” Beth pointed at Nicola’s stomach. “Big news to drop via text message, by the way.”
“I had to tell someone, and Cash was out on a job. Anyway, hold on. I want to answer your question.”
“What question?”
“The condo one. No. There’s none of you in here. You are fun and wild and sweet. You have flaws and imperfections that make you beautiful.”
Beth shook her head. “Those don’t make someone beautiful. I’m… chaotic and confusing. No one wants that. They want… I don’t know.”
“What I know is you’d rather hang with me at a dive bar than deal with all that hoity-toity who’s-who bullshit you go to for work. That you’d never, ever live in some place that’s white from floor to ceiling. So the job lets you hide the real you and live in a place like this. It’s a gorgeous, swanky, super-blinged-out art museum, and nothing like you.”
“I think you’re right.” Beth sighed. “Actually, I know you’re right.”
“I’m a mother-to-be. I spout wisdom and shit now.” Nicola giggled, covering her mouth and looking over Beth’s shoulder. “Roman can’t know before Cash.”
“No kidding.”
“So what’s the look on your face? I thought when you and Roman finally happened, it’d be… okay. You’d… I don’t know… be good with it.”
“I am good with it. But having feelings for Roman doesn’t change the past.”
“Neither does living in the past.” Nicola nibbled on a cracker. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not the past you live in, but like, a desensitized moment in the present that lets you ignore the future.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You keep a perfectly polished world, just like the CIA wants you to.”
“I do my job.”
“But you never let go.”
“That’s what they pay me to do. It’s called a cover, hello.”
Nicola sighed. “Yeah. I know. It’s just… you aren’t using your cover to keep you safe, you’re using it to avoid dealing with Logan.”
“Please don’t say his name.” She’d thought about him enough last night.
Nicola shrugged. “Okay.”
“Feelings, all this, whatever it is—”
“Emotion.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Emotion. Feelings. Crap. It’s… it’s a burden.”
“That could be a song.” Nicola’s eyes danced.
“What?”
Nicola held her sleeve of crackers like a microphone. “Love is a burden!”
“Did you just sing that to “Life is a Highway”?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged and went back to munching. “At least own up to it and say you love Roman.”
“I cannot believe you just said that. Bitch.” Beth glared. “Bitch.”
Nicola laughed, crunching into another cracker. “I call it like I see it.”
Beth stepped closer, whispering, “He said he loves me.”
“Because you two are in love. You just have to stop fighting it.” Nicola’s eyes bounced toward the hall. “Incoming.”
Roman walked in, wearing jeans slung low on his hips. “Morning.”
Nicola made a face. “Put some clothes on.”
“How’d you get in here anyway?” Roman threw back.
“I have a key. I can show up whenever I want, thank you very much.”
He shook his head. “I’m making eggs. Who wants—”
Nicola covered her mouth, gagging.
“Dude.” Roman shook his head. “Swallow down the pukes.”
“‘Kay. Gimme a sec.” She shuffled toward the bathroom.
“Man.” He scrunched up his face. “She needs to give Rocco hell for getting her sick.”
Beth bit her lip. Men were dense about these things, she decided.
“What?” he asked.
How funny would it be if she could say something like, “Oh, it wasn’t Rocco who got her sick.” But Roman still probably wouldn’t get it, and Nicola would kill her. “I should go check on her.”
He turned to the fridge then back to Beth. “What’d she say?”
“About?”
“Us.”
Beth laughed. “You sound like a girl wanting in on the gossip.”
“Just curious, babe.”
“She thinks it’s groundbreaking that I have red wine on my wall.”
“I do, too.” He went back to the fridge, his back to her. “Epic, really.”
She watched him. Everything about their time together was epic, even if she’d rather die than subject herself to losing someone she cared about again. But she was already there. Love was an epic burden. But it wasn’t a death sentence.
Maybe she had needed permission from Teresa to move on, maybe she’d needed Nicola to make light of their relationship, or maybe Beth had needed to realize how damn wrong she’d been. Moving forward was a possibility. All she needed was to accept the inevitable—that she was in love with Roman Hart.
He backed away from the fridge with his hands full of eggs, butter, and cheese. “What’s with that face?” His brow pinched. “Don’t tell me you have the flu, too.”
Ha. “Nope. Not even close.”
“Good.” He moved to the stove.
Watching him was so… normal. Roman rifled through her cabinets, grabbing bowls and clanking them on the counter. He turned on her gas range and put a week’s worth of butter into a skillet.
Nicola walked back into the kitchen as the smell of melting butter rose. She looked green.
Roman turned from the stove, spatula in hand. “You dying?”
Nicola nodded. “I have to go.”
She blew him a kiss, grabbed her purse, and hustled out the door. He put the spatula down, and one huge hand rubbed his tattooed bicep.
Beth thought back. Every time there was an opportunity to worry over Nicola, he kneaded that tattoo. The realization stole her heart, and Beth almost tripped over herself to hug him. When she wrapped her arms around his bare chest, she squeezed her eyes closed, not daring to let another tear fall in front of him. “You’re such a good guy.”
“I know.” He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “What’s up?”
How many times had she seen him worry about Nicola like that? They had far more in common when it came to loss than she ever gave him credit for. Beth perched her chin on his chest. “I want a tattoo.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The front door flew back open again. Nicola rushed in, bypassed them without so much as a wave, and ran toward the bathroom. “Don’t mind me,” she called before shutting the door.
Roman tossed the spatula down and turned the gas off on the stove top. “A tattoo?”
“Yes.”
He picked Beth up, set her on the countertop, and stepped between her legs. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know. Something that means something.” Beth cupped his cheeks then ran her fingers through his hair. “Something that makes me want to touch it when I’m happy or scared.”
“That’s a lot for a tattoo.”
She tilted her head at his arm.
It took him a few long seconds to get the hint. “Ten-four, pretty girl.”
“Look, I didn’t realize until just now how patient you’ve been with me. I mean, I’ve been a mess, and you’ve been cool. God’s honest truth, I was stuck in my own head, and you let me take my time.”
He’d wondered how much last night would change her head space, but he wasn’t ready to push it. Hell, he was barely hanging on to the idea of caring about her the way he did. “Good.”
“I’m serious, Roman. I appreciate how you’ve handled me. I’m the living, breathing definition of baggage.”
“You aren’t the only one.”
She bit her lip. “I know.”
“So we work. Balance each other out.” He stroked her back. “My sister’s puking in your bathroom. You’re distracting me from my eggs that are gonna burn sitting in t
hat skillet. This isn’t how I pictured our day going.”
She smiled, leaning against him. “How did you?”
He dropped his gaze to her sinful body still sitting on the counter. “Already gave you a list.”
She stopped, remembering. “A very good list.”
“Hell yeah, it is.” He wrapped her legs around him and carried her to the table, where he scooted her into a chair then took in the view. Wayward curls and unhidden freckles, two of his favorite things about her. Then his eyes swept over the table, landing on the fancy embroidered placemats. “You like those?”
“The placemats?”
“Yeah,” he said. Because he hated them. They looked like expensive, rectangular doilies that his grandma would go ape shit over.
“They’re hand-stitched from—”
“Do. You. Like. Them.”
Beth giggled, shaking her head. “Not at all.”
“You and Sugar are going to have a field day redecorating.” He grabbed them all and looked at the trashcan but then thought better of it. They probably cost more than his truck. He tucked them into a cabinet.
“Those, too.” She pointed at the matching cloth napkins on the breakfast bar. “Please.”
“Done.” He shelved them with the mats.
Nicola walked out, looking a bit worse for the wear.
He narrowed his eyes. “You should see a doctor, Nic. Seriously, what were you thinking, getting out of bed?”
She gave him a thumbs up. “Doctor, got it. Thanks.”
He made a mental note to see if Beth had some Lysol. He certainly didn’t want whatever had Nicola barfing all the time.
Beth smiled. “When Sugar’s back in town, we’re going shopping. Wanna help?”
“Of course. For what?”
“I’m redecorating.”
“Yeah?” Nicola’s eyebrows rose, then she looked at Roman. “What? Are you moving in with her?”
“No,” he and Beth said in unison.
Nicola laughed, but she still looked queasy. “Jeez. Calm down. I was just kidding. Kinda.”
Beth’s eyes bounced around the room. Roman shifted, and his chest felt tight. It was less of a reaction to Nicola’s question and more of an irritation that Beth had jumped that fast to say no. Just like him.
“Besides,” Nicola continued, “CIA would never let you.”
Hart Attack Page 25
