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CARA DIDN’T KNOW EXACTLY WHAT to make of Roman’s comment about being around his daughter more. Was it just the normal busy-dad thing? Or was there more to it? There’d been a couple of hints she’d picked up on that Roman and his wife didn’t have the picture-perfect marriage. Not that anyone did, or that Cara expected it, but Roman De Marco could be an intimidating man just because of his prestige in the producing world. Then add a beautiful and talented wife and an adorable daughter into the mix . . . it all sounded like paradise.
“Life can be difficult and complicated,” Cara mused, not expecting Roman to answer with any specifics.
“Yeah, I agree,” he said. “But a lot of that could be avoided with honesty and open communication.”
Cara had to look at him then. His dark hair was still damp from the shower he must have taken before coming into the kitchen. The curls waved against his neck, and when Cara let her mind wander, she imagined touching those curls. She shifted her thoughts from how the man before her was a beautiful specimen to what he’d said about open and honest communication. “I think my dad would like you. He’s salt of the earth, you know. Never the type to stretch the truth.”
Roman raised his brows.
“I mean, it’s just a compliment,” she said, backtracking quickly. “Not that I expect you to meet my dad, or that you ever will. He’s about as small-town as it gets. Third-generation Prosper, and third-generation mayor. That can be off-putting to outsiders.”
Roman set his coffee mug down and braced a hand on his knee. “I’d be honored to meet your father someday, Cara. He’s exactly the type of person we’ve tried to incorporate into the character of the sheriff in the show.”
“Oh, right.” Cara felt her face warming. “I really need to sit down and watch an episode. I feel like I should have a better frame of reference when I’m around you.”
Roman chuckled at this. “Only if you want to. It’s kind of refreshing to talk to someone whose life is far outside of mine. Except for the eating part. I mean, we all have to eat. You just eat better.”
Cara shrugged at this. Her oversized sweatshirt slipped lower on her shoulder. Roman followed it with his eyes, and she was pretty sure she was about to blush again. “I don’t know if I eat better, or if I’m just more picky. Since I know the differences in origin and quality of food.”
Coffee mug abandoned, Roman laced his fingers together on the counter. “So do you go all out when you’re cooking only for yourself? And your boyfriend? Heck, I don’t even know if you have a current boyfriend. Just that you left Harvey in the dust.”
Cara laughed at that. Roman De Marco was a funny guy. Intense, serious, generous, kind . . . Pretty much the whole package. No wonder Stacy was a bit crazy about their breakup. “Uh, no boyfriend currently.”
Roman’s dark eyebrows shot up. “Currently? Is there a whole string of them abandoned on the side of the road or something? How current was the last one you dumped?” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Sorry, lots of questions.”
Cara was strangely flattered. No one else had come into the kitchen yet this morning, and Roman didn’t seem in any hurry to leave, so she said, “I had a boyfriend last year, but I didn’t even tell my parents about him. They would have insisted that I bring him to Prosper—and well, let’s just say that I knew he wouldn’t really fit in with anything that had to do with Prosper or my family. In the end, it didn’t really matter. He dumped me. Said I worked too many nights, so we weren’t spending much time together.” She took a sip of her cooling coffee. Roman was still listening, so she added, “It turned out that he found plenty of entertainment on the nights I worked, so it was a good thing he dumped me when he did. I would have probably stayed oblivious for much longer.”
“That’s still rough,” Roman said. “To trust someone, then feel like you’re the problem, only to realize after the fact that it was the other person all along.”
“Exactly.” Cara looked over at him. “You could seriously be a therapist, Roman. You have amazing insights about me that it took me a really long time to figure out.”
“I’d make a terrible therapist,” Roman said with a wince. “I mean, I can only diagnose your breakup because mine was similar.”
Cara wondered if he was talking about some ex-girlfriend of his, and was about to ask him, when he said, “Liz and I had started divorce proceedings when she was killed in that car accident.”
If a semitruck had driven through the kitchen, Cara wouldn’t have even noticed. She stared at Roman, shock reverberating through her.
“Sorry for the bluntness.” He shrugged. “Not many people knew. Only a few of my staff, like Lila and Thayne. Otherwise, we hadn’t told a soul yet. We wanted it done quietly, without media.”
Cara drew in a breath. “I’m really sorry, Roman. I mean, I’ve never been divorced, but I watched my brother go through it. He hit rock bottom, that’s for sure. But you had the worst happen.”
Roman visibly swallowed. “I don’t know if it would have been easier if we’d still been happy, or harder. I felt guilty for a long time. Wondering if she’d have gotten into the accident if she hadn’t been coming back from meeting with a lawyer.”
The breath seemed to leave Cara. The guilt was still there. She could see it plain in his brown eyes. Deep and painful.
“Oh. Wow.” She scooted over a stool, then another, until she sat right next to him. “You are not to blame, I know that much. Accidents happen every day. People survive them, people die in them. It could have been the next day on a shopping trip. Or the day before with something else.”
Roman nodded, but his gaze had gone distant. “Yeah,” he said in a rough voice as he lowered his head. “True.”
Cara moved her hand over his shoulder, then along his back. She gave him a half hug, and Roman leaned into her until their heads were touching. His breathing had shortened, and Cara wished she could find a way to make him understand that his wife’s death wasn’t his fault. No matter the guilt that seemed to be eating at him.
“My brother Knox should have died many times,” Cara said in a quiet voice, her hand still on Roman’s back. “I don’t know if you believe in God, but for some reason God has kept my brother alive. For what future purpose, I don’t know yet. I mean, I love my brother, but he has more lives than a cat.”
Roman lifted his head. They were so close that she could see his red-rimmed eyes. He might not be exactly crying, but he was definitely emotional. “A cat, huh?”
Cara gave a soft smile. “Not only is Knox a bull-rider, but when his marriage went south, he overdosed more than once.”
Roman winced at this, and suddenly, Cara was the one feeling emotional. She cleared her throat. “So when the mother to your sweet daughter dies in a terrible car accident, it only tells me that the world doesn’t always make sense. And unless you or I are God, we may not have the answer for a very long time.”
