Page 28 of Sweet Somethings

Six

Saturday morning, Roman rolled out of bed a little after five, put on his running clothes and hit the streets before the sun came up. He put in six miles of hard running before he turned down the street where Juliette's bakery was located. He slowed his pace down, but forced himself to stay on the other side of the street.

He could see the lights on in her bakery, and as he stopped to stretch, she came into the front of her store and started filling up her display cases.

His heart flipped over in his chest.

He'd thought about her most of the night.

He couldn't have her. He was leaving. Even if he wasn't, she'd soon figure out that they were as opposite as night and day, as light and dark, as sweet and sour. He felt comfortable here in the shadows, where his secrets and his pain stayed hidden. She was bright lights and sweet smiles, serving up warm, delicious goodness. She even had half the town believing in a magical cookie.

While he had half the town believing he was a troublemaker, a liar, a cheater.

Yeah, he needed to keep running—as far away from her as he could get. She couldn't bring him up, but he could bring her down, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

He started back down the street, arriving at the house a few moments later. After a shower and a quick breakfast, he got to work. He didn't take a break until his grandfather arrived around eleven.

"Looks good, Roman," his grandfather said as he perused the work he'd done so far.

"Thanks."

"Jeff been helping you out?"

"He came for a few hours yesterday, but he said he had a basketball tournament this weekend so he won't be able to work again until Monday after school."

His grandfather's lips tightened. "He didn't tell me that. He said he was free today."

He shrugged. "It's fine. I've got a good handle on the demo, and he's not that great of a worker. Where are you on hiring more crew, or subbing out some of this job?"

"I'm talking to people," his grandfather said vaguely.

"You've been saying that since I came back."

"Well, it's still true."

"You know that I can't commit to being here long enough to help you finish this."

"I'm aware," Vincent said shortly.

"You could scale back your plans," he suggested. "You could improve the house and add value without pushing out the back or moving as many walls around. Or you could stop right now and sell it to Juliette Adams. She'll take it as is."

Vincent's brows furrowed together as he frowned. "She can buy it when it's done, but I doubt she'll be able to afford it. She's young. There will be other houses for her."

"Not ones she grew up in." He didn't know why he was fighting Juliette's cause, because in truth he thought she'd be weighing herself down with this house, and it would never make her happy the way she thought.

"Like I told her, houses have many stories. Hers is only one. She'll be all right. You just worry about what needs to be done now. I'll take care of the rest of it."

"Fine."

"Max and I are going out on Hank's boat this afternoon. You need anything from me before I leave?"

"Nope. I'm set for now."

"I'll check in with you tomorrow then."

"Sure."

His grandfather had no sooner left when the doorbell rang.

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