by Hart, Taylor
Roman’s heart was racing, and he wanted to take off. Fast. Just fly out of the parking lot and away from this incredibly RUDE woman, but he didn’t. It had nothing to do with the fact he really didn’t know what he would do with all these supplies. The snow was still flying, but they had used a tarp to cover them from it. He was torn between wanting to leave and wanting to confront her. Finally, he decided this female—married or not—needed a piece of his mind. You don’t leave somebody that’s new to town sitting on a snow mobile all by himself with supplies you wanted to purchase. It was just rude!
He got off the snowmobile and stalked toward Leaping Lizard Diner. Swinging the door back, he found her at a booth next to the window. An older lady in a red dress and big, black boots stood in front of her, putting down two glasses of water. He put on his severe face. The one he saved for coaches that told him his knee wasn’t ready for play time. The one he saved for ex-wives who sat across from him with her attorney and demanded half of everything.
Katie saw him and gave him a huge, innocent smile and waved him over. “Lee Ann, meet Roman—Jim’s nephew. The one he always talked about.”
Immediately, the big boot lady, who had to be a foot and a half shorter than him, hugged him, putting her head against his side. “I loved your uncle Jim.”
Once again, Roman was taken by surprise. The only thing that could have shaken him down, besides being slammed by a three hundred pound line backer, was this kind of open affection and concern. Unwanted emotion choked up his throat. He patted her softly on the back. It was completely strange for him to be in a town where people knew anything real about him. Anything more than the media spin that his people worked so hard to produce.
Lee Ann pulled away and patted the part of the table across from Katie. “You sit now with our Katie, we’ll get you two the special and some of Marv’s fries.”
It didn’t seem like Roman had a choice. He slid into the booth, unzipping his coat and took off his beanie, completely mystified by this town.
Lee Ann frowned, studying him. “But you probably don’t eat fried food, do ya?” She tapped her chin and then, without warning, reached out her hand to touch the stubble on his chin. Then she let out a yip laugh and yanked her hand back. “Oh, dear.” A blush appeared on her face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s just, you’ve always been my favorite, and I’ve been hoping all these years to finally meet you.” She yip laughed again. She sucked in a breath and then patted her hair against the top of her forehead. “Oh, dear. What you young men and your charms can do to us older women.”
Roman had no idea what to say. So he simply smiled. “Nice to meet you Lee Ann, thanks for all your support.”
She sighed. “Ahh, maybe you get some time off being so strict with your diet because you guys just won the big game!” She put her hand up to give him a high five. “So do you want fries?”
He blinked and returned the high five. “Bring me Lizard fries.”
Another yip laugh and she bustled away, before halfway turning back. “But I’m not even going to ask you if you want a soda ‘cause you definitely don’t need all that carbonation.” She gave a stern nod and kept walking.
He watched her go and then turned to look at Katie.
The mischievous look on her face told him that she thought the whole exchange hilarious. She started to bust up. “Wolfe Creek Bachelor. I’m going to start filming.”
The strange thing was that he’d come into this place completely ready to give this red-haired devil a piece of his mind. This girl who thought she could get him to buy all this stuff and then insist that she drive the snow mobile. And then, stalk off like she knew he would follow her. But he couldn’t stop himself. He cracked up, too, and rubbed his cheek, feeling the red creep up his neck. “Was it weird she touched my face? ‘Cause that felt weird.”
Her green eyes sparkled, and she reached for her water. “Wow.” She took a sip.
He took a sip of his water and grinned back at her. “What?”
Closing her eyes for a second, she kept her glass between her hands. “Is that what it’s like for you all the time?”
He knew what she meant, but he didn’t know how to respond. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” She leveled him with a serious look.
Uncomfortable, without really having a reason to be, he shrugged. “It’s …” thoughts of his ex-wife and the other women that constantly threw themselves at him flooded his thoughts. The past few months it had gotten real old. He averted his eyes. “It’s complicated.”
She chug laughed, took a spoon, fished an ice cube out of her water and popped it into her mouth. “I’m sure,” she said with her mouth full of ice cube.
He watched her try to bite on the too big piece of ice in her mouth and couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “Is that a good piece of ice?”
For a second she paused, and then her cheeks flamed red. She took a piece of ice out of her glass and tossed it at him. “Be quiet.” She finally crunched the ice, gulping back a laugh.
This naturally led him to act like a junior high kid, and he took a piece of ice out of his glass, tossing it back at her.
While crunching her ice and dodging the ice being thrown at her, she kept laughing. Then the laughing turned to choking.
He thought she was faking at first. Then he realized her eyes were slightly bulging and all the pounding she was doing on her chest wasn’t a joke.
He panicked and stood, thinking of his training—like forever ago—on CPR, first aid, and the Heimlich. He jumped up and moved to her.
Coughing and coughing, her eyes were watering fiercely.
Tugging her out of the booth, he put his arms around her, hoping the ice wouldn’t cut her throat or he wouldn’t make her throw up. The problem with doing things like this was that he was strong. Not to mention adrenaline hyped at the moment. He latched his arms around her and squeezed.
She coughed, sputtered, and then put her hands up. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
Every part of him was keyed up. He released her and spun her around to see for himself.
The moment went slow and sticky and exactly what he remembered the first time he’d kissed his first girlfriend in the tenth grade after prom. His heart pounded at an unreasonable level, and without warning he was lost in her eyes.
Her cheeks were flushed and she was breathing heavily. It was totally silly for him to think about the fact she was much taller than his first kiss Becky Mueller had been in the tenth grade. She was shorter than his ex-wife by two or three inches. He focused on her slightly puffy lips. Then he noticed the blood on her lip.
Immediately, he reached for her lip and touched it with his thumb. “You’re bleeding?”
She tried to back up, but only stumbled back into the booth.
He grabbed her shoulders. “Take a breath, it’s okay.”
After gulping in a breath, she steadied herself. “Sorry,” she said, touching her lip, “I guess the whole face touching thing does feel ‘weird.’”
Instantly, he dropped her shoulders, still fighting the crazy urge to kiss her. He took a step back and shook his head, covering his embarrassment with a grin. “Sorry, that was … are you okay?” He slid back into the booth.
She sat and then laughed. “I’m sorry. Gosh, how embarrassing.”
He looked around. “I don’t think anybody saw.”
“No, I mean for you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you touched my face.” A wicked glint flashed into her eyes.
Roman realized she was teasing him. He grinned and leaned back into the booth. “Well, is it like that for you all the time?”
Without missing a beat, she dabbed a napkin to her lip. “Only when the fans get out of control.”
Before either of them had a chance to say another word, Lee Ann reappeared. She was carrying two huge sandwiches, which Roman noticed were on some kind of homemade rye bread. The fries were piled so high that a couple fell off the
plate as she put them down. “Whew.” Lee Ann grinned at him and then winked. “Okay, Marv’s famous chicken salad.” She patted Katie softly on the shoulder. “You two enjoy. I’ll get you some more water.”
“Thank you.” Katie patted her hand.
“Thanks,” Roman said. He focused on the plate and decided Marv had talent. It smelled heavenly.
At first they both just ate and Roman had no idea what to say, but then Katie filled the silence by talking about her seven year old son, Josh, and his science project with twenty frogs living together in an aquarium. After they finished eating, they took the supplies back to the inn, and Katie good-naturedly bossed him around, telling him to take various supplies to different parts of the cabin. Some even went out to what she referred to as the ‘barn,’ which ended up being a huge shop behind the cabin.
Before he knew it, they were both pulling up the carpet on the stairs and hauling the pad and carpet to the barn. Katie showed him the process of getting the old furnace working. The furnace, along with the fireplace provided plenty of warmth. He took the cue that Katie was more focused on her work than doing anything else, so he tried to do the same—focus on the work, not look at Katie as much as he wanted to. Beneath the Carhartt suit she wore yoga pants and a worn Philadelphia Thunderbirds t-shirt. Of course he wasn’t petty enough to make a crack about how awful that team was, but he definitely thought the shirt was a good deterrent from looking at her.
Finally, she asked, “So are you selling the place or what?”
He didn’t answer immediately. “I’m not sure.” Which was kind of true as of about two seconds ago.
She stood up and tugged back a lock of hair that had gotten loose from the ponytail she’d assembled before they started work in earnest. “You should reconsider because the Alaskan Inn means something here.”
“What?” He tugged off the leather work gloves she’d insisted they buy for him earlier and picked up a bottle of water.
The way Katie Winters rolled her eyes and gave him a slight nostril flare made him want to laugh.
How rare it was to find a woman that treated him like … a man. Just a man. Not a football player, not someone to be manipulated or worked over for some ad they wanted to run. He snorted.
She shook her head back and forth. “Your uncle made this place into a legacy. He made it something that families came back to every year. Did you know I’ve been getting calls from families that came to this place when they were kids? Now they have grandkids and want to bring them here.”
Roman snorted again. “Seriously? This place is a dump.” Before he’d even let the words come all the way out, he wanted to take them back.
Her lips pursed together and she glared at him, shaking her head. If she were a cartoon, smoke would be coming out her ears. “Do you even realize what it means to have a home?” she spat out. “Some place that means something.”
He didn’t respond. She looked like she was just getting started.
“Your uncle gave you this place because he loved it, and he obviously loved you. Now, you can either disregard something that’s old because you think there’s no life left in it, or you can work and mold it and give it a new life. That’s your choice.” She pointed at him then moved down the stairs. “But if I were you, I would hold on and thank God everyday that you have something to hold on to.”
He watched her walk away and felt the adrenaline spiking through him. That woman made him want to rip something. So he continued to rip out carpet. Hearing her footsteps fading away, he muttered to himself, “There’s nothing worth holding onto that doesn’t hurt you.”
Two hours later, the carpet was out, and they were starting to fix the subfloor.
Katie jerked to a standing position. “Oh my gosh! I have to go get Josh!” She dropped her hammer on the stairs and dashed for her winter gear.
Panic surged inside of him. Roman didn’t know what to do with the silly lost puppy feeling that suddenly washed through him. He’d been with her all day, and as she dashed off, he suddenly came back to the present. The present where she was married to someone else with a kid. He stumbled down the stairs in his haste to catch her before she left. “When will you be back?”
Shoving on the pink pom, pom cap, she turned to face him and gave him a wink. “Don’t look so desperate, quarterback, you’re not getting rid of me that easy. Tomorrow. Same time, same place.”
Chapter 3
The rest of the afternoon and evening was filled with two impressive things. Roman finished getting all the pad and carpet out to the barn and he even pounded in or replaced nails. On two of the steps he had to tear off the tops and he went to the barn and found scraps to replace them. He brought them into the house to show Katie tomorrow morning and then cleaned up the workspace, feeling quite satisfied with himself.
A knock sounded at the kitchen door, and he quickly pushed through to find Mrs. K smiling through the glass windows. He flung the door back, making room for her to come in.
She didn’t budge, staring him up and down. “She worked ya, did she?”
“She’s a task master for sure.” Worry flooded him about the cancer Katie had told him about.
Mrs. K grinned and handed over a warm container that looked to have soup and foil that contained some kind of hot bread. “You go get some rest, young man. I’ll see ya in the morning.”
Immediately, Roman rushed for his wallet on the table. “Here, let me pay you.”
“Oh heavens,” she was already trudging down the steps and headed for the small trail between their houses. “Your grandfather paid me well enough. I just thought there would be no one to look after you, so I thought I’d help out a bit.”
Warmth swelled in Roman and he waved. “Thanks, Mrs. K.”
She stopped and turned back. “Go up to the new room. I went ahead and made it up for you.”
After scarfing down the soup and sumptuous bread, he couldn’t shake the thought of Mrs. K struggling with cancer. Which was odd for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worried about someone else’s health. He shook his head. He would have to find out more about that.
But what he needed right now was a good, long shower. He grabbed his bag as he headed up the stairs to find the guest room she spoke of. In the hallway, the animal heads assaulted him. Geese. Deer. Bear. Oh criminy—pigeon! He realized he remembered it all from his previous visits. He shook his head as he passed a horrific nineteen-seventies looking pigeon room with a rainbow afghan on the wall.
He got to the end of the hall and hesitated. This was his uncle Jim’s room. When Roman first spoke with the attorney, Mr. Burcher had told him he should clear out any personal effects of his uncle’s that he wanted. Roman had responded that he didn’t want any personal effects and the attorney had told him that a cleaning crew would remove it before the sale.
He peeked the door open and was surprised to see an ultra-bright-white down filled comforter on a king bed, with royal blue and white pillows all over. The curtains were open and Roman saw what looked to be, a newly painted and remolded master bathroom. The entire space was completely different from the other rooms. There were modern granite counters in the bathroom and a tiled shower that had sprayers coming from every which way.
A small note was propped up on the king-size bed. “Stay here.”
He dropped his bag on the bed and ventured over to the sliding door that opened onto a gigantic deck. Roman pushed the door back and saw new planks of wood and steam coming up from a hot tub, surrounded by modern-looking deck furniture.
Without thinking much about it, he stripped down to nothing and immediately went to the hot tub. He vaguely remembered how this room should look, but he reckoned his uncle must have started the remodel on the inn a few months before his passing.
He tugged off the top and slid into the hot tub. It felt heavenly to his aching muscles. With the power outage, he would have expected the water to only be warm, but it was actually slightly too hot, just the way he liked it
.
Snow still fell fast and furious, but the balcony was shielded by the roof that extended further than the deck. Roman watched the snow falling and first felt all the tension in his legs and back relax before he was finally able to let his shoulders relax. He loved hot tubs.
Cut off. He lay back against the hot tub and soaked in the fact that nobody was trying to call him, interview him, or bug him about how to handle his career. About his physical therapy. About keeping himself in the media enough to sell things, but not enough to get into trouble.
He grinned as he thought of Katie calling him quarterback. He recalled the way her voice had that teasing lilt to it and her eyes would narrow. He thought he might try to call her Kat, thinking he’d be funny—but instantly he knew that name wouldn’t stick. No. He was sure she was Irish with that red hair. Katie was probably short for Katherine. He cocked his head to the side. His grandmother had been a Katherine. His mother’s mom. He blinked. Not thinking about his grandmother, passing shortly after his mother passed. Not thinking about his mother. He wiped the back of his hand over his eyes. Definitely not thinking about Uncle Jim. He sucked in a breath and watched the snow fall. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dying, ya old coot?”
Chapter 4
Loud banging woke him up the next morning, but it wasn’t the happy sounds of pots rattling inside a kitchen while preparing breakfast. It was the bam, bam, bam of a hammer hitting nails. He tried to ignore it, turned on his side and covered the side of his head with a pillow. It didn’t work.
When the pounding turned to sawing, he gave up completely. He threw back the covers, slid on a pair of jeans, and stumbled out of the room, knowing full well who it was. If he were the boss of this project, however benign this project was, he would refuse to let her start so early. For the love of all that was good and holy, he didn’t often get a vacation like this where he wasn’t at the demands of trainers waking him every dang morning.