Page 20 of Sweet Somethings

She wondered if Roman's departure might slow down the remodel. While that thought was interesting, the idea of him leaving before she really got a chance to know him was not nearly as appealing.

"I have to admit that the construction has been a nice change," Roman continued, surprising her by volunteering information that wasn't in direct response to a question. "It feels good to be in a house, to be tearing out something that will actually be made better."

She heard a deep sadness in his voice and suspected Roman had been through things she couldn't even imagine. What must it be like to put your life on the line every single day? It made her bakery business seem quite inconsequential. "Maybe you could do construction if you have to change jobs," she suggested.

"Perhaps. I can't consider it right now. My life has always been the Marines. I'm a soldier. That's what I do well." He stopped abruptly, as if suddenly realizing how much he was telling her.

"You know what you need besides my extra-special banana walnut bread?" she asked.

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me."

"A couple of my Valentine's Day Wish cookies. Legend has it that if you eat them, your wishes will come true."

The tension in his face eased with her words. "Legend has it?"

"Yes. The tradition started with my father. He ran a bakery here in town when he was alive, and he made these special Wish cookies every February. He'd sell them from the first to the fourteenth, and a lot of people have told me their wishes came true after eating the cookies."

"The wishes are for love?"

"Actually, for anything that brings you love or joy. You could wish for a full recovery from your injuries."

"So all I have to do is eat a cookie to change my life? If that’s true, and you're the cookie maker, why aren't you already a millionaire?"

"Maybe that's not my wish," she countered.

"That's everyone's wish."

"Actually, I've never been that motivated by money. I respect that I need money to do what I want, but it's not what drives me." She paused. "I don't think it's what drives you."

"You don't know me."

"Well, I don't think anyone becomes a soldier to get rich."

"You've got me there."

"These are very special cookies," she said. "You might be surprised at their power—if you can keep an open mind."

"I can do that."

"Really?" she asked doubtfully as they neared the bakery.

"Yes," he said with a nod. "And I am a little curious to see just how good these cookies are." He paused and opened the door of the bakery to allow two older women to walk out.

The first one—the gray-haired, stern-faced, Martha Grayson—gave Roman a sharp, killing look. Her sister—the red-haired, much sweeter, Cecelia—stumbled into Martha's back as she stopped abruptly.

"You!" Martha said, glaring at Roman.

"Ma'am," Roman muttered, his lips drawn in a tight line.

"Good morning, ladies," Juliette said cheerfully, trying to lighten the tense moment.

"I can't believe you had the nerve to come back here," Martha said to Roman. "Haven't you done enough damage in this town? You think we've all forgotten what kind of boy you were?"

"I'll see you later, Juliette," Roman said, letting the door go.

Cecelia caught it with her hand, which probably wouldn't have made Roman happy, since no doubt he'd wanted to smash it in Martha's face, but he hadn't bothered to look back.

Juliette frowned at the Grayson sisters as they came onto the sidewalk, letting the door close behind them.

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