Can't Stop Loving You

by Miranda Liasson

  “Look,” he said to Ethan. “I know you care about her a lot. You may not believe this, but so do I. I don’t want to see her hurt, either.”

  Maybe he could chalk all these messy feelings up to nostalgia. Unresolved emotions from being dumped hard and fast long, long ago. Still, their breakup had never sat well with him. It had been so abrupt, in the midst of all that turmoil. And they’d been so fricking young.

  He wasn’t sure why he always seemed to have such a visceral reaction to her. With the cowboy, he’d simply reacted, plain and simple, and he just couldn’t muster up any regret for it. That guy was a first-class idiot, and he would’ve done the same thing all over again.

  But he had to somehow elevate himself beyond all this residual passion. Returning to Mirror Lake was going to force him to come to grips with this. He had to come to grips with it. Deep down, he knew Bella didn’t need his help. She was a strong, competent woman. Busting into her business seemed to be more for him than for her, and he had to stop it.

  They’d started off on the wrong foot. He wanted them to be friends. He didn’t want them to have animosity between them. It was important to him. They had to find a way to live together in this small town. Once he approached this from a friendship angle, everything would settle down.

  It had nothing to do with unresolved feelings or Ethan or some indefinable yearning he held deep inside him.

  He would stay out of her business. He wouldn’t let old feelings define him. He would start anew, make things right.

  “Ethan, I’d love to talk, but I just realized I’ve got to do something important,” he said. He tossed a bill on the counter and headed for the door. “Gotta go, man. See you around.”

  “See you around,” Ethan said, a little disgruntled.

  Roman had reached the door before he realized he’d never answered Ethan’s question.

  CHAPTER 10

  The porch light was on when Bella returned from The Date That Wasn’t. She found her aunt inside watching HGTV and nodding off over her crocheting, Gracie curled up on the couch beside Fran’s chair. Fran hated when the dog snuck up on the furniture, and never allowed it, but Gracie was clever enough to wait until Fran dozed off before she tried it. Bella had nearly made it to the stairs when she stepped on a creaky floorboard and Fran’s eyes flew open. The dog raised her head and blinked sleepily.

  “You’re home early,” Aunt Fran said.

  Bella walked back and sat next to Gracie, who yawned widely, then promptly turned belly up for a good rubbing, which of course Bella obliged her with. “Oh, thank you, Grace. I live to scratch your tummy. Yes, I do.” Which led to a whirlwind of tail wags and much adoration.

  “Spiffy boots,” Aunt Fran said. “How was your date?”

  Bella smiled and extended her legs. The date was a flop, but the boots . . . yeah, they were keepers.

  “Roman was at MacNamara’s tonight. My date was being a little bit of an idiot, and Roman sort of butted in.”

  Fran set down her crocheting. “Butted in as in bar brawl?”

  “More like, the guy said something stupid and Roman rushed over, and then he and I got into it.”

  “You and Roman were arguing?”

  “Well, I didn’t appreciate his interference. It was unnecessary.”

  “That right? I think it sounds chivalrous!” Fran exclaimed. She pretended to be counting stitches, but Bella could tell by the quirk of her brow she was a little flustered by the excitement.

  “It’s not the Middle Ages. I can handle a guy who’s being a little bit of a jerk,” Bella said, slumping down on the couch. “I wish he’d never come back.” Gracie thought she was playing a game and laid down across her chest, licking her on the face. “It was so peaceful without Roman. He’s poking his nose into my business, and I don’t like it.”

  “Why is he doing that, do you think?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s still angry after all these years.”

  “Are you angry, too?”

  She waved her arm dismissively. “What happened was a long time ago. We’ve both gone our separate ways.”

  “But you didn’t answer the question.”

  “Honestly, what’s there to be angry about? I’ve managed just fine. More than fine. I’ve got a great education and a great job. No regrets there.”

  That was a great lie. She was angry. At her father for giving her such a cruel ultimatum. At herself for lying and then pretending for so many years that it didn’t matter. And yes, at Roman, too, for never coming back. Not that he could have known. She must have told that whopper really well—well enough to crush him so badly that he never returned until now.

  So yes, come to think of it, she was furious. In ways she couldn’t bear to tell her aunt.

  “Sweetheart,” Fran said, “I never asked you how things ended between you two. Maybe I was afraid to. Your father and I were so worried you’d both run off together and get married. I must admit, it was a relief when you didn’t.”

  Bella shrugged. She didn’t mention her father’s threats to disown her, or her fears about leaving Joey. “We were eighteen.” So, so young. “I’m not sure what would’ve become of us.” From twelve years down the road, it was a lot easier to imagine that their youth, and their lack of money and education, would have all been strikes against them.

  She’d done all right, even if she was still here in Mirror Lake. For the most part, she’d left the pain and sadness behind her. She’d created a life of her own. Even if she hadn’t found the right person to share it with yet. It was just that his return had pulled off the scab. Dredged up the waters. Stirred the pot.

  She hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes. When she opened them, her aunt was looking at her with her kind Italian eyes and patting her hand. “Things happen for a reason.”

  How could her aunt say that? She really was a hopeless romantic. Bella must not have disguised her skepticism very well, because her aunt said, “Don’t scoff at me, young lady. What I’m saying is, Roman’s coming back is an opportunity. To clear the air.” She made a swiping gesture in front of her. “To settle some things so the past is put to rest.”

  Like that was going to happen when they couldn’t even speak two words to each other without getting into it.

  If Bella stayed here in Mirror Lake, she knew exactly what would happen. She saw it in the way other women, like the ones in the bar, looked at Roman. It would only be a matter of time, but he would settle down. Find a wife. Have kids. She’d have to accustom herself to that eventually happening. And somehow she just couldn’t stomach watching that play out before her eyes.

  Yeah, that Chicago job was looking better and better.

  Suddenly, she was very fatigued. “The past was plenty at rest before he came back and started mucking with it. Aunt Fran, I’ve been thinking about taking a job in Chicago. Maybe it’s time for me to leave Mirror Lake for a while.”

  “You mean run away from Mirror Lake for a while.”

  “That’s not really fair.” Hadn’t she done her time?

  Her aunt took both of her hands and squeezed tight. “I have nothing against your leaving. You’ve done everything for your family and, God knows, you should be able to do what you want. All I’m saying is, Roman’s here now. Don’t run away from him. Face him. Only then can you truly put the past to rest.”

  Yes, but that was scary. Very, very scary. She couldn’t bear to have her heart exposed like that again. There was a reason it had taken her years to build walls around it. The cost of having a buck-naked, unprotected heart was way too high.

  Bella showered and slid into bed with a big, fat novel, something she did nearly every night, the room dark except for her bedside lamp. Tonight, especially, her mind needed the effects of a nice, calming love story to restore her equilibrium after Roman had knocked it off its shaky foundation. Besides, no matter how bad tonight had been, it was Friday. She was off the entire weekend. Except that tomorrow morning she was teaching a bulb-planting class a
t the garden center for her father, but that was more fun than work.

  She ignored the stab of loneliness that gnawed at her heart. She was all right. She was always all right. She’d endure Roman, get Dad through his rehab and Tony through his last year of high school, then it was going to be time for her life to start. That was a promise.

  Gracie was in her new doggie bed, flat on her back with legs up in the air snoring. She should be so lucky.

  Bella heard a ping against her western window. She had the corner room, a room Gina had always personally coveted because of the windows facing two sides, west and south. A memory hit her, of Roman throwing pebbles at that window long ago. To save her from being alone during the worst night of her life. Until she’d turned him away.

  Roman, Roman, Roman. She was sick of all the memories his return had stirred. She pushed them all aside and went back to reading her book. It was probably just an acorn or something, the result of those damn squirrels constantly chomping on them and letting pieces rain down everywhere.

  Ping. Ping. More pebbles hit the window, sounding like sleet. Finally she got out of bed and raised the sash. She stifled a scream. Roman was on the trellis, a few feet under the window.

  She clamped a hand over her mouth. Tried to breathe. Closed her eyes to get a grip.

  “Oh good. You’re still up,” he said as if she wasn’t still trying to pick half of her startled body off of the ceiling. She opened her eyes to see a grin light his handsome face. He let a handful of small stones fall from his palm to the ground and dusted off his hands.

  She held a hand over her chest, where her heart was practically beating out of it in terror. “What are you doing here?” she hissed. “Like most people in this century, I do have a phone, you know.”

  He quirked up a corner of his mouth. “Somehow, after tonight, I didn’t think you’d give me your number.” He reached the window, both of his long-fingered hands draped over the sill. She’d always admired his beautiful hands. “I’m sorry I scared you. Can I come in?”

  Everything about him invoked the romance of a clandestine night meeting. The black-as-night hair, catching a glint from the one dim light. The big brown eyes, innocently pleading. The big chest and lean, muscular forearms, so much more defined than when he was a boy. A man accustomed to labor. Who used his muscle as well as his brains. Yep, he was the whole big, irresistible package, and he was about to climb into her childhood bedroom.

  Part of her wanted to haul him in over that sill and rip his clothes off and beg him to make love to her, right there on the floor.

  But the other half wanted to push him out the window. Not really, but anything to wipe that cocky look off his face.

  He was a tiger in a kitten costume. She’d be a fool to play his game.

  “Of course not,” Bella said. “You may be crazy, but I certainly am not. Go away.” She crossed her arms. Mainly because she caught him looking at her boobs and realized she was wearing a pink camisole that was probably giving him quite a show. “That trellis is old. If I were you, I’d scuttle right back down it before you fall.”

  “I’m not going to—” All of a sudden he lost his grip.

  She lunged forward. “Roman! Oh my God, Roman, no!” She leaned out the window to find he was huddling a little below the window, chuckling.

  “I’m going to slam this window shut right now,” she said darkly. “And I don’t care which appendages I catch with it.”

  “Arabella. Wait.” Oh, the sound of her given name on those lips. She shivered a little, and not from the cool night air. He reached out, his fingers grasping her naked arm, and they felt so—good. The warmth of him seemed to traverse up and down her arm and spread like fire into her chest and below. Far below. Oh, her traitorous body, so reactive to him, even after all these years.

  She looked at him reluctantly. Her cheeks felt hot. Hell, all of her felt hot.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “I was wrong to interfere with your date. I just want to talk with you. Will you let me in?”

  She drew back, away from his touch. “Fine. Even though both of us are going to get shot if my father wakes up and finds you here.”

  He threw his long leg over the sill and climbed over it. The light somehow made the chiseled lines of his jaw look more severe, more menacing. In her old room, his tall, lean body loomed large. Too large.

  “Wow, time warp,” he said, looking around at the pale-pink walls, the patchwork quilt, the white furniture. Various clothes on the floor. Makeup tubes and containers scattered over her vanity. “And such a great watchdog, too,” he said, glancing over at the dog, who was chasing squirrels in her sleep and snoring heavily.

  Roman walked over and stood in front of her, his gaze doing a slow sweep, starting at her bare feet, working his way up her bare legs and PJ shorts, her cami, up to her frowning face. She expected some remark—sarcastic or borderline innuendo, but he surprised her. “I was out of line in the bar. Contrary to what you may believe, I do care about you. I want us to be friends. And since we’re going to be living together in the same town, I think we should make an effort.”

  Friends. Right. She should feel relieved, but a wave of another feeling came over her. Disappointment? Oh, come on. What did she expect? That she was Rapunzel and he was rappelling in to save her from her life? Romeo coming after Juliet? She didn’t need saving. What had she been expecting him to say, anyway?

  Except it did seem anticlimactic, a declaration of friends after all that climbing.

  “Okay. I accept your apology.”

  His eyes wandered around the room. What was he looking for? Did he expect to find a Chad Michael Murray poster or two? Maroon 5 or Nickelback or Kelly Clarkson or Britney Spears CDs lying about? Photos of them from prom? The tiny diamond ring he’d given her on that last night that she’d worn on a chain around her neck for years after he’d gone?

  He smiled. A full, wide smile, and that was a knockout, too. Lord, did the man have no features that were unappealing to women? That smile was positively blinding. It sent her hormones spinning into overdrive. He had to leave. Now. “Well, thanks for coming, but . . .”

  “I want to show you something,” he blurted.

  “What?”

  He canted his head out the window. “Come with me.”

  “Down the trellis? No way.” He might be into risking his life, but to her it did not appeal.

  “I’ll go down the trellis. You go the normal way and meet me over at my place.”

  Common sense had her shaking her head. “Roman, no. I’m sorry, this is—”

  Lunacy. Against all sense. Going with him now would be dangerous for so many reasons, and really, her father was the least of those worries. She felt even now, after all these years, the intense, magnetic pull of him. The urge to run her hands over the hard planes of his back, touch the coarsely textured silk of his hair. Imagine the weight of him over her, the deep drive of his kisses, how he’d murmur in her ear and tell her how much he loved her, how he’d never love anyone else . . .

  She opened her mouth to say no. But he turned away and tossed his leg back over the sill. “I just want to show you something—something that’s important to me. Trust me.”

  Oh, right. They both knew how that had turned out.

  Once he’d left and she was certain he hadn’t broken his neck, she opened her top dresser drawer to get a sweatshirt. Impulse had her reaching to the back and fingering the bottom of the drawer until she came up with a small black velvet box. In it was a ring with the tiniest of stones. Microscopic, really. Surrounded by a circle of diamond chips. A poor man’s gift. Or that of a very young man stuck in a very tenuous spot. Marry me, Bella, he’d said. I love you, I’ll always love you. We can make a life together.

  So much had been broken. Trust, family, their love for each other. Standing him up would tell him in no uncertain terms that that breach was irreparable. He was smart; he’d get the message. She would set boundaries once and for all.


  Yet she found herself tugging on a sweatshirt and rummaging around under her bed for flip-flops.

  Because, God help her, she couldn’t stay away.

  Roman was sitting on a wooden rocking chair on his porch the moment Bella first emerged from the woods. Seeing her caused a sudden warmth to spread all over his insides, a butter-melting-over-warm-toast kind of feeling. “You came,” he said like an idiot. Then winced inside. He didn’t mean to sound that excited or surprised. Or like he was an eighteen-year-old kid again.

  He’d once loved her, and their parting was the most painful thing that he’d had to live through, except for being separated from his brothers. But now that they were adults, he could care about her as a friend. They could coexist.

  Some little voice inside his head was laughing hysterically at that friendship idea. But he pushed it out of his head as he opened the screen door to the house and gestured for her to come in.

  The inside of the house looked like a country theme from the eighties gone bad. In the kitchen, a wallpaper border of geese wearing bonnets alternating with pink and blue hearts wound around the middle of the walls, and an old beige vinyl table with aluminum chairs sat in the center. Plaques lined the walls containing more geese—wearing more bonnets and bows and surrounded by more hearts—and kitschy sayings about love and friendship and family. He hadn’t thought of the décor at all when his grandparents had lived here—it was just part of their house and who they were. But now, without them, it was just—stuff.

  “I’m sorry about your grandparents,” she said. “They were good people.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I just hope I can make them proud.”

  “Why wouldn’t you? They’d be thrilled that you’re back here taking over the business.”

  Roman shrugged and toyed with a fake banana in a bowl in the center of the table. “My vision for the business is a lot different than theirs. I hope they would agree with what I’m planning.”

  Bella smiled. “They will if it’s a success. Your grandpa was always about the bottom line.”