Page 111 of Sweet Somethings

"You're not letting me," he told her, giving her a purposeful look. "I'm doing it. So stand and watch or go upstairs and relax—your choice."

"I have another choice," she said. "I'll help you. It will go faster."

While he washed the bigger pans and loaded the smaller items into the dishwasher, she put ingredients away, wiped down the counters and took out the trash.

When she came in from the back alley, she found herself smiling at the sight of Roman in soapy dishwater up to his elbows. If the truth were told, he'd never looked sexier than he did right now.

"What?" he asked, giving her a speculative look.

"Just thinking how hot you look right now."

"Yeah, sure," he said with a laugh.

"It's true. You continue to surprise me. I've never had anyone offer to clean up my kitchen before."

"Then you've been hanging out with the wrong people."

He set the last dish in the drying rack and wiped his hands on a towel. "If you hadn't been working tonight, I would have liked to take you out for Valentine's Day."

"What would we have done? What's your idea of a romantic evening?"

"Well, for you I would have skipped the desserts, because nothing compares to what you make, and I wouldn't have wanted you to do any work for our date."

"So, then what…"

He tilted his head. "I would have taken you down to the water, rented a boat—maybe Doug's big yacht, if he wasn't using it—and we could have sailed across the bay." He paused. "Do you like boats?"

"I love them. That would have been fun, Roman." She felt a little sad that she'd missed out on that.

"It wouldn't have mattered what we did, as long as we were together," he said quietly.

"You're right." A knot grew in her throat. "I like everything we do together, including this."

A smile curved his lips. "Who knew all I had to do were a few dishes to warm your heart?"

"You warmed my heart from the beginning—well, maybe not the very beginning," she amended.

"You did not like me tearing down your house," he said. "But we seem to have gotten past that."

"Well, it wasn't your idea; you were just helping your grandfather. How could I blame you for that?"

He stepped forward, taking her hands in his. "I told you I came over here to talk to you."

"And I still think we should save any more conversation for tomorrow or the next day or maybe a long time from now."

"I don't want to end this, Juliette."

"Really?" Hope sparked within her.

"Really. Look, I don't know what's going to happen, but I think we should work it out together."

"Together?" she echoed. "How can we? It's your choice what you do with your career, not mine. I won't ask you to give up the Marines for me. I won't ask you to stay in Fairhope. It wouldn't be fair. You are who you are, and you have to do what makes you happy."

"Are you done?"

"For the moment."

He squeezed her fingers. "Yesterday when I was taking all those tests, you were right there with me. You were running, doing push-ups, pull-ups—everything."

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