She leaned forward and took his hand. “She thought you were a good prospect.”
Roman cleaned up before Grace arrived the next morning. When she brought his coffee to the studio, he told her Jasper was coming for a visit this weekend. He’d called late last night after Roman had dragged himself home. Grace’s face lit up like Christmas was just around the corner. “That’s great! I’m planning a barbecue on Saturday. You and Jasper are welcome to join us.”
Roman had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t have to wonder if Brian Henley would be at the party. “You can tell Jasper when he gets here. I may have other plans.” He wondered at the flicker of confused disappointment.
Roman stayed in the studio the rest of the day, making sketches of the hills, his mind still on what had happened the night before. He hadn’t even asked the officer’s name. Talia might have his card. Or Grace would have made a note in her organizer. Better not to ask. He refocused on the figure he was sketching. He smudged a black line, softening it. He studied the curving lines he’d added. Would Grace see what he was hiding in this picture?
Grace returned. He ignored her until she cleared her throat. He didn’t look at her as he covered his work. “What’s up?”
“I’m sorry to break your concentration, but I have a few messages to give you before I leave.” Roman held out his hand as she came closer. She glanced at his drafting table. “Something new?”
“I’ve been inspired by your line.”
“May I see?” She leaned forward.
He inhaled the fresh, sweet scent of her. Was she wearing perfume? Or did she always smell this good? He imagined burying his face in the curve of her neck. Other images teased him, and he planted his hand on the sketchbook. “Not yet.” His voice came out rough. She glanced at him, and he saw her pupils dilate. His heart pounded like he’d been on a long run. “Back off.”
She did. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No. I’m just trying to . . .” To what? Protect himself?
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“I’m glad you’re interested.” If that look had been a hint of what she was feeling, why was she spending so much time with Brian Henley? She was close enough that he could touch her. He made a fist and pressed it against his injured leg.
“Is your leg hurting you?”
“It’s something I’m going to have to live with. A reminder of what happened.” He was afraid of how much she mattered to him. She’d be walking out of his life soon. “I’ll have to find a good masseuse.” He gave her a teasing grin, trying to lighten the tension between them. “Unless you want to volunteer.”
“Very funny.” She stepped away.
He spoke before he thought better of it. “We’re back to the old routine, aren’t we?” Not that he wanted it that way. He missed the closeness they’d shared on the road and in the hospital, but feared it, too. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, but didn’t.
That road trip had turned his life upside down and inside out. He got into the car the first day thinking it would be good to get to know his personal assistant on a more personal basis. How many other lies had he told himself? He’d left full of pride and purpose, thinking he could manage his own life on his own terms, and returned physically broken, spiritually awakened, and mentally confused.
She took another step back. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Roman nodded. He could almost feel the walls going up, not just his, but hers. Maybe they weren’t so different. He could tell her the truth—that he didn’t have any answers about anything anymore, that seeing her with another man made him physically ill, that he wanted more, but was afraid to think about how much more he wanted.
GRACE PUT SAMUEL in the playpen and gave him his Baby Einstein piano toy. Ashley arrived with a big bowl of homemade potato salad, a tray of brownies balanced on top. “I was in the mood to bake last night. If I don’t get these brownies out of my house, I’ll eat every one of them.”
Nicole arrived red-eyed and pale. “I need to borrow a bowl.” Shanice came in on her heels with a big pot of Boston baked beans.
Ashley looked through the open doorway to the patio. “Where’s Charles? I thought he was coming today.”
“He had to work.” Nicole ripped open a package of salad, dumped it into Grace’s bowl, took a bottle of raspberry-pecan vinaigrette out of her bag, and plunked it on the table.