Page 16 of Three Hearts Hideaway

Fuck. He did want to be with her.

He shook his head to clear his mind. Roman saw her first. Fair’s fair. He had to get her out of the B&B. It wasn’t so much about falling behind on the work as not being able to stand being in the same room as her. The instant she bounced down those stairs and into the kitchen, he was done. He cursed himself for telling Roman having a guest stay a few nights was fine, since he artfully neglected to tell him just whatkindof guest would be staying with them.

Everything about her screamedhis type. Her long curly hair, the confidence in her walk, and the innocence in her eyes. Especially her eyes. He wanted to change them from naïve to knowing. The things he would do to her.

He wanted to ruin her in the best way possible. See the mascara running down her face. Hear her choke on his cock. Watch her body tremble at his touch.

His dumb-fucking-luck that she wandered into The White Pine Pub and met Roman.

Not that it was his best friend’s fault. It wasn’t like he planned for this to happen. Roman would never do anything to hurt him, he knew that. No question. And possibly wanting to pursue a relationship won out over whatever he was feeling, anyway. Roman was antsy, always telling him how he wanted to take the next step in life, but he hadn’t found the right woman.

Logan wiped his brow with his knuckles and surveyed his work. Everything was painted, appeared even, and he was happy with the outcome. He transferred the supplies to the next guest suite. Once the paint was dry, he’d return to remove the tape from the baseboards and along the ceiling. Continued alone time doing repetitive work was what he needed to clear his head.

But his thoughts kept returning to Ava. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Ava was the right woman for Roman. She hadn’t been in town for long, but stranger things had happened.

Logan’s parents dated for two years, were engaged for another year and a half, and still proceeded to get divorced when he was eight. Roman’s parents had a whirlwind romance that lasted four weeks before they eloped to Vegas. Now they were going on something like thirty-seven years of marriage.

So who was he to stand in the way of Roman’s potential happiness? He needed to tone down his assholery and be a decent friend. At least he would try.

Ducking into Ava’s room one final time to remove the last can of paint, he noticed her purse on the bedside table. Her phone peeked out the top. What did Roman say last night? The reason she was here was because of a voice message from her ex?

He plucked the phone out of the bag. No password. Oh, Ava. So trusting. Especially after being burned by her ex.

Scrolling through her messages, he clicked in and out of any with a man’s name. Finally, he landed on Sebastian. The last message from him was a voice recording that was four minutes and twenty-seven seconds long. Prick.

He quickly forwarded it to himself, then deleted the proof that he’d done so. He couldn’t let her know he’d invaded her privacy. That wouldn’t win him any points. But if the message was bad enough to make her abandon her home to hide out in Little Greenfield, he needed to know what it said.

Tucking Ava’s phone back where he found it, he grabbed the paint can and exited the room. The lock on the front door clicked, signaling that Roman had returned, and he heard it swing open with its distinctive woosh. Roman’s deep baritone and Ava’s giggle floated up to the guest suites where he stood.

Perfect timing.

Chapter Six

ROMAN

Who knew picking out patio furniture would be so enjoyable? They drove into Huntsville, the biggest town within day-trip distance, and spent the afternoon hunting down the perfect furniture at second-hand stores and vintage shops.

Ava found a well-loved wooden set for her room’s balcony. A cafe table and a pair of loungers, perfect for two. The stain was worn, and needed a refresh, but they suited the B&B perfectly. Roman had picked out some cushioned bistro furniture, nothing fancy. A couple of chairs and tables for the other two decks.

Roman carried the loungers to her room, and Ava trailed close behind with the little table. He was ribbing her about taking such a small load when Logan appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Roman. Ava.” He nodded.

They didn’t get a chance to talk earlier this morning, so Roman figured the best approach was to be cautious. “Hey, bud. What’ve you been doing while we were gone?”

“I finished painting Ava’s guest suite. The fumes might be strong. Fair warning.”

Ava nodded, acknowledging his statement, but kept quiet. She took a step closer to Roman, and he puffed out his chest. Being her safe place was a good feeling.

Logan’s gaze locked on Ava, and he took a breath before saying, “Listen, Ava can stay. She did a decent job tiling the shower. If she helps us out and leaves a good review, then it’s a win-win situation. Deal?”

“Deal,” she answered, without hesitation.

Roman breathed a sigh of relief. “We picked out fantastic chairs and tables for the balconies. The rest are in the back of the truck if you want to help bring them up.”

Logan gave a curt nod and took the stairs two at a time while Roman continued with Ava to her balcony. Thank goodness Logan had come around. Having a come-to-Jesus talk about his abhorrent actions wasn’t something Roman wanted to do today. Nonetheless, he’d have to knock him on the head for what he said to Ava, but they were moving in the right direction.

Sometimes his friend needed time to think. Though he wasn’t sure what he needed to think about, per se. When he called to ask if a stranded visitor could crash at their place for a while, he was mostly amenable. Sure, it took a bit of convincing, but that’s how Logan was. A sourpuss who eventually saw the light with a little help.

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