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Roman frowned at this. “Fire? What are you talking about?”
“Real fire, Daddy. Don’t you know?”
He didn’t know.
“Crème brûlée, Mia,” a soft voice said just behind him.
Cara.
Roman didn’t turn because he was afraid to see what was in her eyes—acceptance or rejection?
“Oh, that’s right,” Mia said. “Crème bru-dey. She wouldn’t let me do it, though. Said I had to be older.”
Cara’s laugh was soft, and then he felt her moving away. He glanced to the side to see her setting small bowls onto the table that looked like they were filled with melted butter. Lila walked in with another tray and started serving the other side. Next, Thayne entered, carrying platters of king crab.
As Cara moved around the table, it was impossible not to look at her. She wore a dress—black and simple. Beautiful and elegant. The V-neck cut displayed a thin silver chain with a small pendant hanging from it. Her hair was smoothed into an updo and silver earrings dangled from her earlobes.
Even though she’d moved to the head of the table, Roman swore he could smell cinnamon above all the other scents in the room.
Disappointment swept through him when Cara disappeared into the kitchen again. He was tempted to rise and help her out, but that would probably not be a good idea in this situation.
Once the main meal was finished, Roman rose, holding his glass in hand. “A toast. To a successful wrap-up today, and wishing everyone a happy Christmas.”
Glasses went up around the table. Just then, Cara walked in with a tray of her crème brûlée. Just like Mia had said, the dessert had been lit on fire, each dish containing miniature orange flames.
“Ah, perfect timing,” Jerry said, coming in right behind her, carrying a second tray. “The toasts have begun. Let me fetch the champagne next.”
Cara smiled as she delivered the desserts in front of each person. Roman tried to catch her eye, but she was solely focused on those she was serving.
When Jerry brought in the champagne, the toasts were amped up, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Most would be traveling the next day, and things would get really quiet really fast.
“Do you like it, Daddy?” Mia asked after watching him take a bite of the dessert.
The creamy sweetness was excellent. “I do. What about you?”
“It’s my new favorite,” she replied. “Cara said when I get older, I can learn to make it by myself.”
Roman nodded, while wondering how much he’d be hearing Cara’s name after she was gone. Probably every day. The evening stretched on, and Jerry had everyone participating in Christmas-themed skits that had them laughing. Except for Cara—was she in the kitchen cleaning up?
When Mia nearly fell asleep on his lap, Roman carried her to bed. After tucking in his daughter, he swung past the kitchen. Cara wasn’t there. But he couldn’t very well be absent from his own Christmas party, so he returned to the front room, where a raucous White Elephant game was underway.
It was all fun, but Roman was keenly aware of Cara’s absence. Where was she and what was she doing? Finally, as the evening wound down and most people had dispersed, Roman went in search of her. But she wasn’t in any of the public areas of the house, so he could only assume she’d gone to bed.
He knew she and Jerry would be flying out early tomorrow afternoon, but that meant she’d be busy with packing before that. Roman headed down the hallway of bedrooms. All seemed dark and quiet in Cara’s. So was this it? In the morning, things would be busy, and he’d need to be with Mia as she opened her gifts. Would Cara join them?
He leaned against the wall and pulled out his phone. He had her cell number, but hadn’t used it yet. Maybe he’d send her a text in the morning, early, in case she was asleep right now. Finally, Roman headed to his bedroom.
There, on the floor just as he walked in, was a folded piece of paper. Like someone had slipped it under his door . . . just as he’d done at Cara’s.
His pulse skipped as he picked up the paper and unfolded it.
Dear Roman,
I’d love to be your pen pal.
Cara
That was it. But it was enough. Still, Roman turned over the paper to make sure there wasn’t writing anywhere else. Hope burned hot inside his chest. Hope for what? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he was grateful for this short message from Cara.
For a moment, he had to laugh at himself. Pen pals? This was such a silly, small thing, but somehow it was also a big thing to him.
