No point in thinking about all that now. She’d worked hard at ripping out the root of bitterness so she could forgive Patrick.
Forgiving herself was another matter.
Restless, Roman drove down to Malibu again and picked up lunch at the grocery deli. On impulse, he bought an orchid, figuring it would be a nice welcome gesture for his new tenant. He’d given her a full day and a half to settle in. What harm could it be to check on her?
Her front door stood wide-open. Roman took that as an invitation. He stopped short of stepping over her threshold. Grace didn’t even notice him as she sat at a small table, hand holding a thick book open as she wrote in a spiral notebook. He stood watching her for a moment. “Settled in already?”
Startled, she dropped her pen. Recovering quickly, she pushed back her chair and stood. “Sorry. I didn’t notice you standing there, Mr. Velasco.”
Were her eyes narrowing because of the sunlight or because he was crossing a line? Roman could almost read her mind. What is he doing here? It wasn’t the usual expression he saw on a woman’s face. “You were pretty deep in concentration.” He came inside, curious to see what she was doing to his cottage. He did own the place, after all. “Just making sure you aren’t repainting the walls.”
“I’d ask first.”
Of course she would. She looked tense. “Catching the afternoon breeze?”
“I didn’t want to run the air-conditioning. I forgot to ask about utilities.”
Utilities? Was she that hard up financially? “They’re included in the rent.”
“Which reminds me.” She moved papers aside and picked up a check. “First and last month’s rent.” She held it out.
“Already planning to move?” He took the check and stuffed it into his front pant pocket.
“It’s usually how things work. And a security deposit in case I do repaint the walls.” She smiled.
Roman smiled back. “Everything by the book, Ms. Moore.” He set the orchid on the table in front of her. “A housewarming present.”
She blinked. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
Then why was she staring at it like he’d put a snake on her table? Roman decided not to ask. He wanted a look at her living room. She liked blue, green, pink, and yellow. Everything was cheap chic, warm and cozy. Three pieces of art hung on her wall: “Be still and know I am God” in colorful hand lettering, and two prints of men in Arabic dress, one a bearded shepherd carrying a lamb over his shoulders and the other with head bowed, hands clasped in prayer. “Do you have a thing for Middle Eastern men?”
“I have a thing for Jesus.”
She said it so simply, without the least hesitation, it caught him off guard. Her brown eyes shone clear until she caught his mood, then became perplexed. Something about the way she tilted her head made his heart give an odd double beat. The feeling passed as quickly as it came. “Your lights were on when I came home last night. It was after two. Everything all right?”
“Just restless. Couldn’t sleep. It’s very quiet out here. No traffic sounds. Would you like some coffee? It’s not fresh.”
Was she hoping he’d say no? “Yes. Thanks.” She opened a cabinet, displaying a neat row of unmatched mugs. “You’ve already put all your stuff away.” His gaze drifted over her. She looked good in skinny jeans. She was barefoot, her toenails painted pink. Her shirt rode up enough to reveal pale skin. No tats. None that he could see, anyway.
He glanced at her textbook. Contemporary Clinical Psychology. Surprised, he gave a slight laugh. “Doing some light reading?”
“It’s from a class I had to drop at UCLA.” She handed him a mug of steaming coffee.
College girl. “UCLA? That wasn’t on your résumé.”
“I didn’t graduate.”
“Didn’t like school?”
“Loved it.”
“Flunked out?”
“I had to go to work full-time.”
Roman lifted the mug and read Trust in the Lord with all your heart. He sipped, looking at her over the rim. “Hard-core, aren’t you?”
“I have a Dodgers mug, if that would make the coffee taste better. Or the Raiders.”
Was she teasing him? He gave her a roguish grin. “I’m more a raider than a dodger.” Even her old coffee tasted good. She looked like a teenager with her hair tucked behind her ears. He liked the shape and fullness of her mouth. In truth, he liked everything about her, what little he knew. Neither spoke. Grace sucked in a soft breath. She came around the table, walked out the door, and didn’t stop until she reached the wall. She ran her hand along it.