Page 69 of Roark
Miranda smiled when Cade took her hand. “That’s fine by me. Let’s go hit up the bar.”
When they were gone, Tamika said, “Oh, there’s Suri, and she’s with a date. Do you know who he is?”
Roark followed Tamika’s gaze and saw his sister sitting at a table as a man approached her. She looked surprised and then happy to see him, so Roark tamped down on the overprotective-brother routine about to rear its head. “No, I don’t, and I’m not really up to meeting anyone else at the moment.”
“Oh, okay. Do you wanna go over to the bar to get a drink? Or do you want to sit and eat first?”
“Actually, I’d rather talk to you about something.” Because he couldn’t wait a moment longer.
“Roark, we’ve been together all day. What could you possibly want to talk to me about right now that can’t wait until later tonight?”
He stared at her for a few moments. Backtracking? Chickening out? Of course not; that wasn’t how Roark rolled. “Just come with me and you’ll find out.”
With a hand to the small of her back, Roark led her down the steps, but instead of going straight to where everyone was mingling, he turned to the left and walked until they were closer to the stone benches and statues that lined the outside of the garden.
“Have a seat,” he said.
When she did, he sat beside her. Then he stood again, reached into his pocket and pulled out what was inside, keeping it tightly closed in his hand so she wouldn’t see it. He sat down again and looked at her.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot this past week.” That wasn’t the way he’d planned to start this.
“Thinking about what?” Was that worry he heard in her voice?
Roark cleared his throat. “I enjoy being with you. A lot. I mean, a whole lot.”
She laughed nervously. “Okay, I get that.”
“And I know you’re not working right now and your mother’s recuperating, so you’ll probably want to be close to her. I want to propose—”
“Wait, what?” She jumped up from the bench. “You’re proposing? To me? Now?”
Roark jumped up too. “No!” The word burst out before he could stop it. “I mean, not in the way you think. I was just going to propose that you stay here. Or rather, in London, with me. It’s only an hour and a half drive to Painswick. We could visit with your mum every weekend.” He paused and then extended his hand. “I rented you a flat.”
She looked down at the key in his hand and then lifted her head up slowly so she could stare at him again. “You rented me a flat so I can stay in London. With you.” Her tone wasn’t what he’d expected it to be. In fact, it was concerning.
“I don’t want what we have to end.”
“What do we have, Roark? Are we dating? Because I thought we’d agreed to just sex.”
And he’d believed when his aunt had told him women couldn’t accept just sex for too long. “I thought we were past that,” he admitted. “I know I am.”
She nodded and folded her arms over her chest. “You’re past just sex. What’s after that?”
He’d been asking himself that question all week and as of the moment he’d been getting dressed and had slipped the key to the flat into his pocket, he hadn’t come up with an answer. But standing here tonight, with the summer breeze surrounding them and her looking absolutely beautiful in the floor-length emerald-green dress, he knew without a doubt how he felt. “I’m falling in love with you.” The admission came and then sat between them like a massive boulder.
She smiled. “Oh, Roark. You have know idea how hard I’ve fought against this. How with each time you touched me, I wanted to run away and hide, because there was just no way this could work.”
“What are you talking about? It can work. All you have to do is say yes.”
“Say yes to what? An apartment today. A marriage proposal a year later. And then what? Do we end up like you and Katrina did?”
“That’s not fair.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “None of this is fair. I wasn’t supposed to like you when we met, let alone be attracted to you. And I damn sure wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you in, of all places, Painswick, while we were ensconced in a hunt for a killer.” She gave a nervous chuckle. “Do you even realize how preposterous this all sounds? It’s almost unfathomable that we would’ve met, fell in love, caught a killer and lived happily ever after. Nobody does that, Roark. Least of all people like me.”
“People like you?”
“Not-rich people,” she clarified.
