Her expression held something akin to fear. “What is this?”
Roman hadn’t expected a grown woman to panic, especially one who had been married. “Take it easy, Grace. I miss having dinner with you. We talked on the trip. We get back here, and we’re back in the rat race. I thought it’d be nice to spend an evening together, reconnect the way we did on the road.” Shut up, you moron. You sound like a used car salesman. He was feeling a bubble of panic himself.
She took a noticeably shaky breath. “Okay. What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. Everything is ready. Are you hungry? We can eat right now.”
“Yes. Let’s eat.”
She sounded like she wanted it over and done with.
Dinner didn’t go as Roman had planned. Grace barely took a bite. Conversation felt stilted, her mind elsewhere. He forgot to light the candles until dinner was over, and then it was too late. So much for ambience.
They both cleared the dishes. She edged him out of the way, rinsing and putting them in the dishwasher as though working for him again. His emotions flared and frayed. Angry, he tapped the file folder. “Is this what’s been on your mind since you walked in the door?” He wanted to rip it in half without even seeing what was inside.
She closed the dishwasher with a bang. “Yes.” She came around the counter and walked past him. When she got down on her knees and reached under the couch, Roman’s stomach clenched. He knew what she had in her hand before she stood and faced him.
Immediately on the defensive, he clenched his teeth. “That’s none of your business.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve seen you shove this under the couch, and I was curious. And then when I saw the photos online—”
“What photos?”
She didn’t answer. Opening the book, she found what she was looking for and brought it to him. She put the sketchbook flat on the counter in front of him.
Roman glanced down. “The demon faces from my nightmares. What about them?”
Grace opened the folder and pulled out computer printouts of several pictures. He couldn’t read her expression when she looked at him. Disappointment? Fear? Confusion? “Are you the Bird, Roman?”
Roman felt exposed, vulnerable, ashamed. “It’s just something I’ve done over the years to deal with . . . whatever.” He took the file and closed it. “Just forget about it. It’s got nothing to do with you.”
“It says in one of the articles the police have a file on you. You could be arrested.”
He could tell her about the police officer who let him go. Instead, he felt cornered, defensive. “Thinking about turning me in?”
“No, but this tells me I don’t really know anything about you.”
“You know what’s important.” Not everything, not yet. “You know me better than anyone else on the planet, including Jasper.” Take a risk, Jasper had told him before leaving. Stop letting fear and anger rule your life. Stop allowing the past to rule your future. How much of what the Bird had done had come out of the helpless frustration he’d always felt, beginning with the night his mother walked out the door?
Grace looked on the verge of tears. “Who are you, Roman?”
Roman could hear Jasper’s voice. Let the walls down, Bobby Ray. Let her in. “I don’t know.” He waited for her to say something that would crush the heart of him, but her face changed. She looked at him with compassion.
“You’re an artist.” She spoke softly, with certainty. “I know that much about you.”
He was afraid to ask, but needed to know. “What are you going to do with what you know? About the Bird.”
“It’s your secret, not mine.”
“It’s ours now. Maybe you’ll feel better if I tell you I can’t fly anymore. I can’t outrun anyone. The tunnel was the last piece I’ll ever do.”
“Because I know?”
“Because I got caught that night. I saw everything I’ve worked for going up in smoke, and then he let me go.” He uttered a curse. “Everything has changed, Grace.”
“A near-death experience will do that to a person.” She touched his arm.
Maybe there was hope. “Yeah, but I’m not talking about that. It was coming on before that. I wanted more.”
“More of what?”
“Life.” He was close enough to touch her and did. Her breath caught. The skin of her throat felt like warm silk. “You want more, too, don’t you?”