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“For this distraction,” Roman answered simply.
Oh, for the love of… “Are youtryingto drive me crazy, or does it just come naturally to you?”
His smile was so unexpected and so fucking gorgeous, Camila lost her breath. “It’s making you think of something other than the case, right?”
Her eyes lingered on his mouth, her brain conjuring up the feel of his firm, full lips on hers, on how she would’ve begged him to kiss her in a dozen other places—hotter, needier places—and ooookay, she needed a redirect, fast.
“Yes,” she said, her voice far breathier than she’d intended. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I take it you’re not going to tell me where we’re headed, then?”
“Nope. You don’t have to stay once we get there if it’s not your thing,” Roman added with a shrug, “but I’ll hang on to the mystery just a little while longer.”
“Of course you will,” Camila said with a tart smile. She agreed to follow Roman wherever he was heading, and he gave her both his cell phone number and the address of the destination just in case they got separated. Fifteen minutes later, Camila pulled up in front of a red-brick building, and even though the place was as no-frills as it got, her jaw still dropped when she realized where they were.
“Remington Food Bank?” she asked as soon as Roman met her by the front door.
“Yeah. I, ah, volunteer here on evenings and weekends whenever I’m not working a case.” He ran a palm over the back of his neck, and Camila tried really hard not to notice the flex of his biceps beneath the snug sleeve of his T-shirt. “It’s not that big of a deal, really. It keeps me busy.”
“Just when I thought you couldn’t surprise me any further,” she said, sending his brows up.
“You’re not seriously surprised that I like to stay busy, are you?”
A laugh jumped out of her. “God, no. I think we’ve already established that idle hands aren’t really your thing. But volunteering at a food bank? Even you have to admit, that’s not exactly expected.”
“It’s notthatsurprising,” Roman countered, but no freaking way was she letting him off the hook.
“Roman, please. You’re a broody, serious FBI agent”—she hardened her expression to mimic his intensity—“but here you are, spending your weekends sorting through canned goods and handing out peanut butter and bread to people who need it, when you could be going out or sleeping in or any number of other things. So, yes. It’s pretty damned surprising.”
“Okay, first of all, I’ve never made that face.” He indicated his expression with a sweeping motion of one hand. “And secondly…you may have a point about the rest.”
Camila grinned. “I’m sorry, what? Did you just say I was right?” She cupped her ear with a hand, and Roman huffed out a laugh.
“It’s alittlesurprising. But I started volunteering here after Gabi died.”
Camila’s heart squeezed at the mention of his wife, but she didn’t shy away from the topic. “Oh. Any particular reason you chose a food bank?”
“Truth?” Roman asked. “My therapist actually suggested it. I needed to get out of the apartment, and Gabi had always been pretty passionate about feeding those who were hungry. She was training to be a chef.”
“That’s a nice way to honor her,” Camila said, and Roman nodded.
“It is, but it started out a lot simpler than that. There was a decent amount of manual labor involved, hauling all the crates around, and I didn’t really have to talk to anyone if I didn’t want to. I could show up, keep to myself, do the work, and get good and tired. At first, it was just something to keep me busy, and I’ll admit, that’s still part of why I still volunteer.”
Camila nodded. “How about the other part?”
Roman shrugged, matter-of-fact. “Back then? I needed a way to cope with my grief and I knew that whatever I chose, I was going to go all in.”
“Yeah, you’re not exactly a half-measures kind of guy,” she agreed with a soft laugh.
“Exactly. I didn’t want to climb into a bottle or pick fights or get high all the time. I mean, those things probably would’ve made me feel better in the short-term. Or, at least, number. But I’d have lost my job pretty quick that way; plus, Gabi would have been pissed.”
Camila nodded, understanding slowly trickling in. “And how about now?”
“Like I said, part of it is still to stay busy. I don’t really do the social thing, and, as much as I’d like to, I can’t workallthe time.”
Questions formed in Camila’s head, one on top of the other, all begging for answers. But Roman didn’t open up easily—or, really, at all. If he trusted her, the least she could do was give him room and listen.
“And now, I enjoy being here. It feels good to do something that helps the community. Plus, Wallace—the guy who runs this place—needs all the help he can get. I figure he’s got plenty of work to keep our minds off this robbery. As long as you’re up for it?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Sounds perfect.”
