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It felt like steam was pouring from my ears as I stomped up the front walk and the steps to the door. I slid my key into the lock, but there was no point. The asshole had left it unlocked when he’d let himself in!
I shoved the door open and stepped over the threshold, tossing my purse and keys on the entry table so haphazardly I heard them clatter to the floor, but I didn’t stop to collect the items that had scattered everywhere. I rounded the corner from the entryway and stopped in the middle of my living room, legs shoulder-width apart, hands planted on my hips.
Roan graced me with a casual smile over his shoulder before turning back to whatever he was working on atmystove. “Oh, hey. You’re home. You have a good day, baby?”
My mouth gaped open like a fish out of water. I sputtered for a few seconds before my brain finally reengaged. I spotted my traitorous cat lounging on the floor near his new favorite human and gave him a scowl that promised he’d be going on a diet startingtomorrowbefore looking back at Roan. “Did I have a goodday?Did you really ask me that while standing in my kitchen for some insane reason afterbreaking into my house?” I finished on a shriek.
“Didn’t break in.” He reached into his pocket and produced a key ring. “I got a key. See?” Before I could unglue my feet from the floor and stomp over to snatch the key away from him, he slid it right back into his pocket. “And I’m not in your kitchen for some insane reason. I’m here to make you dinner.”
It was then that the smells filling my house penetrated my senses. I didn’t know what the hell he was making, but it made my mouth water and my stomach rumble. And,damn it, he looked way too sexy standing in my freaking kitchen.
“So you committed a felony to make medinner?” I asked in bewilderment. “Roan, you have to see how insane that is.”
He stirred something in a pan on the stove before lifting a wooden spoon to his lips and giving it a taste. “Mmm,” he hummed, the rich, pleasant sound sending a rush of arousal to my core. “That’s perfect,” he declared proudly before placing the spoon on the rest and wiping his hands on a small kitchen towel as he turned to face me. “Well, not just to make you dinner. I figured after I made your favorite—chicken parm, right? I made the sauce from scratch, you’re going to love it—anyway, I figured after you ate, we could talk.”
It was those three little words tacked on the end that cause panic to slither up my throat. Talking meant airing things out. Airing things out meant letting go of the past. And that was too slippery of a slope for me to risk going down. Even if my stomach was currently screaming at my brain to shut the hell up and go with the flow. I mean, chicken parm? Yes, that absolutely was still my favorite.
No, Alma, I silently chided. I needed to get my shit together, or I’d be putting everything I’d built here at risk: the life I’d managed to make for myself after my old one imploded. I didn’t have it in me to start over again, so that meant Roan had to go.
I pulled my phone out of the little pocket on the outer thigh of my shorts and smiled smugly. “Or I could call the police and report an intruder.”
I wasn’t seriously planning on doing it, but the shithead called my bluff by leaning back casually against the counter and crossing his arms, grinning at me like he knew I was full of shit. He didn’t give me any choice. Ihadto call. It was his own fault.
We remained in a silent staredown as I pressed my thumb across the screen and engaged the call, bringing the phone to my ear.
“911. What’s the nature of your emergency?”
“Yes, this is Alma Rossi, and I have an intruder.”
* * *
“I can’t believe you called the police on him!”
I brought the glass of wine to my lips and drank deeply as I held the phone to my ear. After the cops had escorted Roan out of my house in handcuffs, I’d poured myself a glass of wine and called Charlotte.
“I had to make a point!” I declared childishly as I looked around my kitchen at the partially constructed meal. Even only half done, it looked more appetizing than anything I had ever been able to make. For a woman who loved food as much as I did, I wasn’t a very good cook. Homemade meals were a luxury I only had every now and then when I went over to a friend’s house for dinner or something.
Roan used to be as bad a cook as I was, but apparently he’d learned something in the last ten years, because the dinner he’d been making looked delicious. So was the bread he’d baked the last time he was here.
“You had to make a point? Or you freaked out and did the very first thing that came to mind?”
I pulled the phone away and flipped it the bird even though Charlotte couldn’t see. “Okay, so maybe it was more of the last one, but he broke into my house, Char. What did you expect me to do?”
“He used the key he’d had made while he was taking care of you when you were sick,” she corrected. “And he didn’t do it maliciously. He did it in order to surprise you with your favorite meal. He did it for the same reason he’s done all of those sweet things all week long. So that you’ll finally talk to him and stop running away.”
I knew she was right, but I wasn’t quite ready to give up the fight yet. “You’re supposed to bemyfriend. Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“Yours, babe.” Her laughter carried through the line. “Always yours. Which is why I’m saying what I’m saying now in the hopes of pulling your head out of your ass. What happened between you two sucked. He was a dick for doing what he did, but that was tenyearsago, Alma. Are you the same person you were back then?”
Not even close, I thought. I could barely remember the girl I was back then.
She took my silence as thenoit was meant to be and continued on. “So if you’re not same person, it stands to reason maybe he isn’t either. Maybe everything he’s done and said since he got to town has been genuine. The best way for you to find out is to talk to him,” she stressed.
I thought back to the first time he’d been in my house, when I asked him what had changed, and he said his father had died. I hadn’t let myself think too hard on that until now. But when we were dating, he’d always been so protective of me when it came to his father. I’d only met the man twice during the course of our relationship, and after the second time, Roan had declared never again. He freaked at the idea of his dad coming around and downright forbid me from ever being alone with the man.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” she said lightly. “Because I’m a genius.”
