Page 70 of Red Hot Roaster

We untangled, pulling ourselves apart slowly. I couldn’t resist reaching out again to cup her cheek and rub my thumb across her full bottom lip. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Meanwhile, the dogs were relentless.

Rose broke the spell this time. She nipped and sucked my thumb in quick succession. Before I could do anything about it—like grab her again—she danced away and headed over to the gate.

She glanced over her shoulder and said, “C’mon, let’s feed these loonballs their dinner and take them for a walk down to the park. I need some air, and you can tell me what you’ve been doing to my poor car.”

She was talking to me again, and on a relatively safe subject. It was another chance to avoid the unavoidable. Or at least postpone it.

How could I say no?

“Sure.” I grunted. “It’s getting dark soon anyway. Let me get your car off the jack, and I’ll be right in to help you with the dogs.”

We sat kitty-corner at the butcher block island, my knees bumping into hers when I tried to stretch my legs out. She was chowing down the ham-and-cheese-scramble I’d fixed when I’d found out she hadn’t eaten a thing today…not the breakfast she’d made for Finn and Lauren, not lunch at the Chocolate Lab while she was working, nothing.

Four-shot mochas didn’t count, but nice try on her part.

“Mmm…yum.” Rose closed her eyes and moaned as she shoveled the food in. “Rafe, where did you learn to cook like this?”

“That’s not cooking,” I scoffed. “That’s a fry-up, what I do when I’m camping. Usually, I throw in some mushrooms and onions, but we, er, you were all out.”

“Well, whateveryoucall it,Icall itdelicious.” She smiled up at me, gesturing with her fork. Her eyes were a brighter green, her cheeks rosy rather than pale, her dimples peeking out.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

The moment those words were out of her mouth, she froze and stared down at her plate. Frowning, she continued eating—quiet now, subdued even, shrinking somehow.

I hated to see that.

Earlier, Rose had shared what she thought about me taking care of her.

Rafe, I appreciate it, I do.I’d sensed abutcoming when she’d pulled her hand out of mine to tug Pirate away from something suspicious…and hadn’t reached for me again.

We’d been walking the dogs around the park while I explained why it was urgent to put new brake pads on her junker.

Rose, I couldn’t waste any time. With thin pads, the brake fluid can leak out real fast—even while you’re driving. And your brakes would fail—no warning.

If I’d sounded a little over-the-top about her safety, I guessed I was. She neglected things or put herself at risk, and soon…I wasn’t going to be there to safeguard her.

Then she’d hit me right between the eyes.Rafe, it’s not your job to do all these things for me. I’m not your responsibility.

True. I didn’t want to be responsible for anybody ever again. But fuck me, that’d hurt.

It hadn’t gotten any better.

Sometimes I wonder if you think of me as a list of chores. Chores to take care of and check off before you go on to your next thing. Before you leave…She’d kinda trailed off there.

I must’ve made some sort of protest because she’d picked up again.

Don’t get me wrong. We’ve had something…intense going on here.She’d waved her free hand back and forth between us.You’re a good man with a good heart. I just think whatever we have is marked with a sell-by date.

She’d stopped and pulled up her hood against the rain.I’m sorry, Rafe. I’m exhausted from this week, and I’m not making any sense. Plus, I’m so hungry I could probably eat Pirate’s weight in kibble. Let’s go home.

So I’d taken her back to her house and fixed her breakfast for dinner.

Now I stood and carried our empty plates over to the sink. Princess and Pirate dogged my heels, hoping for scraps, but there was nothing left.

I returned to the island and took both of Rose’s hands in mine. I drew her to her feet and started walking backward, out of the kitchen, through the dining room to the base of the stairs.