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Chapter Thirteen
Cara wondered how it was that Roman De Marco could be so effortlessly, so casually, gorgeous. No matter what he wore, and no matter what he was doing. Even when he had fallen asleep on her bed while she was reading the fairy story. Wasn’t he still tired? He should have been tired if he could fall asleep so easily.
Yet the man in the kitchen with her didn’t look the least bit tired.
In fact, he looked delicious. Warm, hunky, kissable.
Whoa.Cara had to redirect her thoughts right this second or else she’d be a blushing mess. Where had thoughts of kissing Roman come from? And why was he hanging out with her? Lingering? He was definitely lingering, because there was literally nothing to help her with, unless he wanted to wash dishes.
“So, we need to talk,” Roman said, leaning against the counter only a couple of feet from her, his arms folded. Although he wore a long-sleeved shirt, his muscular physique wasn’t lost on her.
Cara carried the pot to the sink, then turned to face Roman, leaning against the counter across from him. “Okay, sure. Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Roman said. “I mean mostly. I had a chat with Mia. She’s getting pretty attached to you, and honestly, that kind of has me worried. You know, because you’re leaving in a couple of days. And she’s young—and has lost a lot.”
Wow.So he was getting right to the very heart of matters. “I agree.” Cara took a careful breath as nerves thrummed through her. “I hope you know that I didn’t set out with the intention of spending so much time with Mia. And getting attached to her, too.” Her laugh was a bit awkward in their shared silence.
Roman was watching her carefully, as if he were trying to understand the full meaning of her words.
She tried again. “I told Mia I’d love to send her some recipes to try. Maybe that will be a good segue from being at the ranch to going back to my job in California.”
Roman nodded. “Yeah, Mia mentioned that.”
Cara bit her lip. His brown eyes were dark tonight, and she wasn’t sure how to read them. His tone was relaxed and gave nothing away. “Of course, I told her we’d have to run it past you first.”
She waited.
Roman shifted and unfolded his arms, bracing his hands on either side of the counter behind him. “I think it’s a good idea, too.”
Cara felt her breath rush out. This was a huge relief. Huge. She’d worried she’d overstepped with the offer, and she also had the same worries that Roman did about his daughter’s fragile heart.
“But only if you really want to, Cara,” he said, his gaze turning intense. “Mia’s only six. Do you really want to keep up a pen pal situation with her? I know you’re a busy woman.”
Cara tugged at the hem of her shirt. “I am a busy woman, but I can’t work all the time, right? Besides, Mia is so sweet, unfettered, and really it’s a delight to teach her cooking. I never thought I’d like to teach anything. Maybe Mia is just an amazing student.”
Roman smiled at that, yet there was something still guarded in his expression. “So, I’ve gotta ask. What happens in three months? Six? A year from now? Are you still keeping up this pen pal thing?”
Cara couldn’t predict the future, of course. “I think if she stops writing to me, then I’ll fade off, too. Although the thought of that makes me feel sad.”
His brows rose at this. “Really?”
Cara gave a small shrug. “Yeah.”
Roman moved away from the counter, which meant he was now closer to her. “I think I’d feel the same way, too.”
She lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “You’d be sad for Mia?”
“Hmm. Yes, but there’s more. I think I’m going to miss you, too, Cara Prosper.”
Roman was only a few inches from her now. How had he gotten so close without her realizing it?
“Lila will be here to cook for everyone,” she said, to distract herself from his nearness.
Roman gave a soft laugh. “Not the same thing.”
Her mouth tugged into a smile, and his gaze moved across her face. “Wanna be pen pals?”
Roman De Marco smelled nice. Like fresh air and pine. “Is that what it’s called between adults?” he asked in a low voice.
