by Cathryn Fox
He scrubs his face. “Yeah. I guess I miss Lucy. We were the closest. We did everything together.”
“Like Cason and I did.”
“If I ever had kids, I’d want a dozen so they could all have one another. I complain, but goddammit, Peyton. They do mean the world to me.”
As he shares something very touching, very private with me, my heart thumps a bit faster. “I thought you didn’t want children.”
“I don’t.” He blinks a couple times, like he’s trying to get his head on straight. “Isn’t that what I said?”
“It’s something you said before. Not what you just said.”
“Oh, it’s what I meant to say.” He picks the cloth back up and dabs my forehead. “Just for the record, Peyton, you’d be an amazing mother.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The kindness and compassion you have for kids.”
“When have you ever seen me with kids? Hey,” I say when a guilty look crosses his face. “What did you do?”
He gives a slow shake of his head. “Even sick, you’re questioning me.”
“When you look like the damn cat who swallowed the canary, yeah I’m going to question you.”
“I was out for a stroll today, just to get some fresh air. I saw you in the schoolyard with the kids.”
“You’re a creeper, Roman,” I murmur, and snuggle in tighter.
“I just wanted to make sure everything was going okay and you were happy.”
I chuckle. “Still a creeper.” My stomach squeezes, but this time it’s from happiness. I like the thought of him checking up on me, just to make sure I’m okay and happy. “You’re sweet,” I say without thinking.
“Keep that to yourself. I have a reputation to uphold.” He laughs softly. “Close your eyes and sleep.” I do as he says. A second later his warm lips are on my forehead and a soft sigh escapes my throat.
Don’t fall for him, Peyton.
If I put that on repeat in my brain, will it sink in?
As his warmth and closeness cocoon me, his steady, even breathing sounds soothe me. I’m seconds from drifting off when a horrible thought occurs to me. My lids fling open.
“I did eat something different.”
CHAPTER TEN
Roman
“YES, LUCY, I’M FINE. Working away as usual.” I pinch the bridge of my nose as my lovely sister grills me about my love life, or lack thereof, on the other end of the phone.
“Why do you sound like you’re close? Typically your calls from New York don’t come in this clearly,” she asks.
“I’m just...outside,” I say, not a lie. Peyton had been up half the night with stomach cramps and slept through her alarm this morning. I shut it off. She’s in no shape to go in to work, and when my phone rang, I ran to the rooftop to answer it, not wanting to wake her.
“You sound tired.”
“I am tired.” I spent the better part of the night worrying about Peyton and debating on calling a doctor, not to mention refreshing her water to keep her hydrated after every trip to the bathroom. There wasn’t much time for sleep. I yawn, and something niggles in the back of my brain. I reach for it, and when I’m finally able to grasp it, I blurt out, “Wait, why wouldn’t you expect me to sound tired? You’re calling in the middle of the night.” At least in New York it’s the middle of the night. A long pause takes up space between us, like she’s trying to figure out a way to tell me, and worry zings through me. “Lucy, is something wrong?”
“It’s Mamma. She worries about you being all alone. She’s not getting any younger, Roman. You need to find yourself a wife and settle down.” I open my mouth, ready to blurt out that I did, just to ease my mother’s worries. I stop myself before I do. While that might make my mother happy, it would bring a whole lot of trouble to this situation Peyton and I are in.
“Can you please tell her she has nothing to worry about? I’m happy, and life is good.” I smile. Despite Peyton not feeling well, this last week has been good—probably the best week I’ve had in a long time, or ever. Yeah, being with Peyton has been fun, and I can’t remember the last time I had fun or felt this alive. But in a few short weeks, after she signs the contract and I say I have to head back to New York for work, we erase this time from our memories and go back to a clean slate.
Why the hell does that idea bother me so much?
“That’s why you called? To tell me our mother has been worried?” I glance at the gorgeous sea cliffs in the distance; a colorful blue bird chirps as it takes flight. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know, so why the call in the middle of the night, Luce...”
“What was that?” Lucy asks.
“What was what?”
“If it’s the middle of the night there, why do I hear a bird chirping?”
Shit.
“Sound machine,” I say quickly. “Helps me sleep.” Wow, aren’t the lies just rolling off my tongue lately.
“I though you said you were outside?”
Crap.
“I’m back inside now.”
“Sounded like a blue rock thrush.”
“How would I know what it is? You’re the bird-watcher, not me.”
“It’s the national bird of Malta. Don’t you remember when we were kids, we used to chase them when we vacationed on the beach?”
“Vaguely,” I say, my stomach twisting. “What I remember most is you making me eat mud. I’m going back to sleep.”
Her chuckle fills the space between us. “No, wait. I called because I couldn’t wait to tell you something.”
I lean against the glass rail and let the sun warm my face. “What’s up?”
“You’re going to be an uncle again.”
My heart squeezes tight. My God, the baby Bianchi sister is going to have a baby. How is that possible? “I’m so happy for you, Luce...” I can just picture the big smile on my sister’s face. She was the youngest girl, and I came after her. The two of us were closer than any of us and Jesus, I really miss her. My heart thumps a little harder.
“I wanted to tell you before the others, that’s why I called in the middle of the night. Sorry if I woke you.”
My throat tightens. “Don’t be sorry,” I say, and cradle my phone. “I’m glad I was your first call.”
“Roman.”
“Yeah?”
“Miss you, bro.” My heart squeezes tight. “Can you come home soon?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you soon, Luce...” I think about next weekend. Maybe I can sneak off to Italy for a quick visit with my family.
“Love you,” she says.
I spin when I hear movement behind me, and turn to find a pale Peyton watching me, her big green eyes wide and glassy. How much did she hear? Will she be upset that I’m planning a trip sooner rather than later, and leaving her behind, after admitting how much she’d love to visit Italy? She’s been left behind enough, and yesterday I got the sense she’d like to go, but under the circumstances what choice do I have?
“I have to go. I’ll see what I can do about visiting,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “Talk to you later, and love back.” I end the call and shove my phone into my pocket. I examine Peyton’s pale face. Honest to God, if that cupcake Richard gave her was tainted, he’s going to have some explaining to do—to my fist.
“Hey,” I say, and sink down in front of her. I press my hand to her forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“I spent time on a farm one summer,” she begins. “My foster family had an orchard.” I eye her. Jesus, is she delirious? I wait for her to continue, to see where she’s going with this. She swallows and practically peels her dry tongue from the roof of her mouth.
“Okay,” I say. “And...”
“They had this tractor.” She lifts her arms and widens them, sounding a bit loopy and tired. “It was hug
e. It tilled the ground or something.” She uses her fingers and opens and closes them like she’s plowing the soil. “Anyway, I feel like that tractor ran me over, then backed up to finish the job.”
I can’t help but laugh at her description and it brings a small smile to her face. “I’m so sorry, Peyton.”
“Not your fault.” She takes a breath of fresh morning air and groans. “I need to get ready for school.” She stands on wobbly legs. I jump up and catch her, scooping her into my arms.
“The only place you’re going is back to bed.”
She tries to wiggle from my arms. “No, I have to get to work.”
“I already called Andrew. I’m going to be in the computer lab with the kids today.”
Her mouth drops open. “Roman, I can’t ask that of you.”
“You’re not. I’m happy to shape young minds, and maybe I’ll have a hand in producing the next Bill Gates or Steve Jobs.”
“Andrew agreed?”
I set her into the chair under the pergola and drop down in front of her. “He’s pretty excited about it, actually.”
She frowns. “Ohmigod, now I’m going to be in competition with you, too.”
“Hardly. If you want to know the truth—” I stop to feign a shiver “—I’m scared shitless.”
A little chuckle rumbles in her throat. “Why?”
“Kids, they kind of scare me. They can be evil little beings, you know. One time when I was in high school, my young nephew thought it would be funny to put blue dye on my toothbrush. It was my senior year and I was going on a date with this girl I was crazy about. Let’s just say it was my one and only date with her.”
“Why did he do that?”
I shrug. “I actually think my sisters put him up to it.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“They passed it off as an April Fool’s joke but deep down I think they were trying to sabotage my date.”
She frowns and puts her hand on my cheek. She doesn’t feel as clammy as she did last night. “That wasn’t very nice,” she says, siding with me, and I like that. Couples need to stick together, no matter what. Not that we’re a real couple, but Peyton would undoubtedly be a ride-or-die kind of girl when it came to relationships. If she were open to one, that is.
“Sisters.” I push her curls from her face. She’s a hot mess and never looked cuter.
“They must have had a reason.” She eyes me, curiosity all over her flushed face. “What did you do to them?”
“Me!” I exclaim, indignation in my tone as my head rears back in shock. “I’ll have you know I was a saint, Peyton. A damn saint.”
She laughs at that and the sweet sound goes through me.
“A damn saint? Yeah, and I’m Mother Teresa.” Long lashes blink over tired green eyes. “Seriously, why did they do it?”
“I think it was because they didn’t like the girl I was going out with. They all thought she wasn’t good enough for me.”
“Wow, tough crowd.”
“Right—now do you see what I mean about butting into my life?”
“Yeah, I guess, and I bet they’d hit it off with Cason. He’s always up in my business.”
“You really do know how it feels.”
“Something else we have in common,” she says, and glances down, her brow furrowed. Her head lifts and her eyes are brimming with questions when she looks back up at me.
“What?”
“Did they like your ex-fiancée?”
“Yeah, they did. I think at that point in my life they were anxious for me to settle down and have a family. They either missed the signs or she fooled everyone.”
“Fooled everyone?”
“Never mind. It’s not important.”
I’m about to stand when her hand on mine stops me. “Roman, if it’s important to you, it’s important to me.” She pastes on a smile. “I am your wife.”
I am your wife.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I really shouldn’t like the sound of that so much.
“She didn’t want me for me, Peyton,” I say, and go quiet as her eyes narrow, her brain absorbing that information. “She wanted my name and all that came with it.”
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” I say without thinking. The truth of the matter is, I was sorry to find out my worth to women, but deep down, I think I might have felt a measure of relief when she called off the wedding.
And why is that, Roman?
Oh, because she wasn’t Peyton.
Well, shit.
She goes thoughtful for a moment. “Do you...think they’d like me?”
“Yeah, of course.” I lightly nudge her on the chin. “I told you that already.”
“Yeah, I know, but I’m probably not the kind of girl they’d like to see you with.”
I stare at her long and hard. “Why would you say that?”
She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Roman. I hardly come from the right background.”
“Why would you think that matters?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?”
“You think pedigree matters to my family?”
“Oh, it matters, Roman. When you’re on my side of the tracks, it matters. I’m judged all the time. You have no idea what that’s like.”
Her words pierce my skin and I stand abruptly. “Is that what you think?” Jesus Christ, I’m judged all the time, too. I’m judged because I was born with a silver spoon, she’s judged because she wasn’t.
“No, I don’t mean that.” She squeezes her eyes shut, hurts from her childhood written all over her face. “Things aren’t coming out right.” Her glassy eyes meet mine. “If that came out as an insult, I didn’t mean it. I think you’re a really great guy.”
“You won’t for long.” She gasps when I pick her up and carry her back to bed. “You’re staying here for the rest of the day.”
She wiggles and tries to protest as I cover her. “I don’t feel right about this, Roman.”
“Stop,” I say, and pin her down. Her breath catches and I grin. “Oh, do you hate me restraining you right now?”
“Yes, you’re such a bully.”
I laugh at that. “Yeah, I am, aren’t I?” I brush her hair from her forehead, everything in me softening. “I want to take care of you, okay?”
“Roman—”
A growl rumbles in my throat. “It’s okay, Peyton. It’s okay to let someone else help.” I dip my head and cup her face. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. Can you trust me on that?”
She swallows and water fills her eyes as she glances away. My heart nearly shatters. This sweet girl hasn’t been able to count on anyone but her brother, for fear of being cast away like she was nothing more than yesterday’s newspaper.
Goddammit, I want to be the person she can count on.
“Yes,” she says.
“Good. I’m going to the school today. End of discussion.”
“Bully,” she murmurs under her breath.
“What’s that?” I ask, a warning in my tone.
“Nothing.” She pulls the blanket over her head and whispers, “Bully.” Her chuckle wraps around me and I shake my head. This girl is killing me.
“You’re going to pay for that.”
“I know,” she mumbles, more chuckles.
“Get some rest, Peyton.”
I’m about to leave the room when she flings the covers off. “Roman.”
I hover in the doorway. “Yeah?”
“Who are you going to see soon?” She flips her hands over, palms up. “It’s not my business and you can tell me that. It’s just when I walked onto the rooftop, I overheard you.” Her eyes blink rapidly, and one thing I’ve come to learn about her is when she’s upset about something, she rambles on. Anoth
er thing we have in common. “If you have someone here you want to see, some girlfriend or something—”
“It was Lucy,” I say.
The apprehension on her face morphs into a smile. “Oh, your sister.” Relief visible, she adds, “Easy-Bake Oven.”
I laugh at that. “Yeah, she’s the one, and I think I’m going to call her that from now on.” I step back into the room. “She’s pregnant. She wanted me to be the first to know.”
Peyton closes one hand over her heart. “That is so nice.”
“She wants to see me.”
She smiles up at me, a longing on her face. “You should go see her.”
“Yeah, I think I will.” Before I can stop myself, I blurt out. “Will you come?”
What the ever-loving hell am I doing?
“I...” She grips her blankets, squeezes them in her hand. Her expression is troubled when she says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut. Not good, Roman. Not good at all. Nothing good can come from introducing her to the family. I’d have to lie and tell them we were married, or let them in on the charade—they wouldn’t be happy about that, and the fewer people who know, the better. Despite all that, I still want my family to meet her, and that’s all kinds of messed up.
“Maybe I won’t go.”
“It’s okay if you do,” she says, smiling up at me, but the sadness on her face tears at my heart.
“I’ll think about it.” I’m about to step away but turn back and say, “Jealousy looks good on you, by the way.”
Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. “Excuse me?”
“When you thought I was talking to a girlfriend or something...”
“I was not jealous. I was curious. I’m very curious by nature, in case you didn’t know.” She folds her arms and lifts her chin an inch. “I was being nice, Roman.”
“I like when you’re nice,” I say, and let my gaze drop to her mouth. The energy in the room changes, vibrates with the heat between us. “For the record I like when you’re not nice, too.” That remark gets me a pillow across the face.
I laugh and walk back to her. “That’s quite a throw you have there. Little League?”