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I take a seat beside her. “Sorry, it took me so long to reach out.”
“Pfft.” Her eyes lock on my hair. “Did you put blonde streaks in?”
“No. It’s the sun. Vincent and I had a beach day on Sunday.”
Her gaze drops to my left hand. “Are you married?”
I shake my head and tell her the same story I’ve told everyone. “Vincent’s father passed away before he was born.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” She doesn’t give me a pitiful look. “So you’re a single mom?”
I nod. “Yes, it’s just Vincent and me.”
“No parents?”
I shake my head.
“Well, that’s it. Now you’re stuck with me,” she declares.
I let out a chuckle, then ask, “Are you always this friendly?”
Rosalie shakes her head. “I just really want to be friends with you.”
“Why?” I lock eyes with her. “You don’t know anything about me.”
She shrugs before adjusting the light blanket over Roman. “I just had a feeling when I saw you.”
“What kind of feeling?”
“That we’ll make great friends.”
I lean back against the bench and watch Vincent play with Jordan.
“So, what made you decide to message me?” Rosalie asks.
I scrunch my nose before I admit the truth, “A man came into the store and asked me out to dinner. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and after he left, I felt bad and needed someone to talk to.”
The friendly expression falls from Rosalie’s face, and her features tighten. “What do you mean he wouldn’t take no for an answer?”
“No matter how many times I declined, he just kept trying.” I shake my head. “Eventually, I lost my temper and told him to leave my store.”
“Good for you,” she praises me. “I’m glad you reached out.” She turns her gaze to me. “Whenever you need someone to talk to, just call me.”
“Thanks.” I momentarily hesitate, then explain, “I’m a hermit. I love the life I’ve built for Vincent and me, and I don’t want to date.” My teeth tug at my bottom lip. “I still love Vincent’s father. No one will be able to replace him.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. You do you.”
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, then I lean forward to look at Roman. “Has he walked again?”
“He hasn’t stopped. He should wake up any second now, and then we’ll be running all over the place.”
Just then, Roman opens his eyes, and Rosalie lifts him out of the stroller.
“Can I hold him?” I ask.
“Sure.”
She passes her son to me, and I admire his long black lashes. “It’s unfair that our boys have better-looking lashes than us.”
