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Cara almost choked with laughter. Roman had imitated Holt’s drawl to perfection. She also loved that his arm was around her, and Harvey’s gaze hadn’t missed the familiarity.
“That’s right, hot stuff,” Cara said, trying to come up with the most obnoxious endearment.
“Wait,” Harvey said, looking from Roman to Cara. “Your mom said you weren’t dating anyone.”
Cara moved her arm around Roman’s waist and nestled close. “When did you last talk to her?”
Harvey seemed caught off-guard at this. “Uh, about a week or so ago.”
She shrugged, then smiled. “Things changed.”
Roman leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Laugh like I’m telling you something juicy. It will drive him nuts, and he’ll be gone in three seconds.”
Cara laughed, although she hadn’t needed the prompting.
Harvey took a step back. “Well, then, nice to see y’all. Have a nice evening, and Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Harvey,” Cara said above the rising swell of the chorus.
He glanced again at Roman, then tipping his hat, he melted into the crowd. As much as a six-foot-four guy could.
“Wow, he’s something,” Roman murmured against her ear, his arm still around her.
Cara scoffed. “You don’t even know the half of it.”
“Now, tell me the truth,” he said, his voice still low. “Were you regretting things with him?”
Cara turned to face him, which made his arm drop away. “I think seeing Harvey was a blessing.”
Roman’s brows raised at this.
“Because I realized how glad I am that he dumped me.” She gave a little shrug. “He’s not my type.”
Roman’s gaze turned amused. “You’re saying that you don’t want to be a rancher’s wife? Not even when you grew up in this small town? And you can open up your own bakery?”
Cara’s laugh burst out. “You’ve been listening to my mother, I see.”
He grinned. “She’s very informative.”
“Unfortunately, she might have to do damage control to restore Harvey’s fragile ego.”
“Uh, there’s nothing fragile about that man,” Roman countered. “I think he’ll be just fine—if you’re worried about it.”
“I’m not worried about it.”
“You’re not?” Roman asked, his tone lower, softer.
Cara shook her head, and he smiled.
Then he did something that stole her breath. He reached for her hand and held it firmly in his. She hadn’t realized how cold her hands had gotten, even with gloves on, until his warmer one encased hers. Was he going to lead her to the rest of the family by the tree? Would he let go once they reached them?
No, he didn’t lead her anywhere. Instead, he opened his mouth and joined in on the newest Christmas song, “O Come All Ye Faithful.”
Cara pushed down a rush of emotion that threatened to spill over. Roman was an amazing man, a good man, and for whatever reason, something was clicking between them. Connecting them piece by piece.
For the next thirty minutes, Cara and Roman sang along to all the Christmas songs. Standing outside in the cold weather, surrounded by likeminded townspeople who were celebrating this holy day, made Cara feel both light and full at the same time. She couldn’t think of any moment at any other time in her life that had felt so . . . joyous.
And ironically, it was while standing side by a side with a man she didn’t know last month. But his hand that still clasped hers, strong and steady, felt comfortable. Almost like she finally felt at home again after a long absence.
