“Thank you!” I exclaim. “Oh, thank you so much. I was so worried when I realized it was gone. Where did you find it?”
“In the corn maze, dangling from a stalk. I remembered you wearing it.”
A wave of gratitude hits me, and I resist the urge to jump over the counter and wrap my arms around him. If he hadn’t brought my necklace back, I never would have found it in that giant corn maze.
“Thank you so much,” I tell him again, fastening the necklace around my neck. “You have no idea what it means to me…I didn’t catch your name?”
“Roman.” He tips his head at me. “No need to thank me. I figured it must be important to you. Thought your boyfriend must have the other half.”
Something flickers in Roman’s eyes, and I swallow hard. He looks almost…jealous? There’s a tightness in his face, a darkness in his expression that makes no sense. Why would this gorgeous giant care if I had a boyfriend?
“Nope, no boyfriend,” I say quickly. “It was my grandma’s. She had one half of the heart and my grandpa had the other. I kept both necklaces after they passed.”
I don’t dare tell him that I’m keeping my grandpa’s half safe, dreaming of the day when I can give it to someone I love.
Roman’s eyes soften. “That’s real sweet, Freya. I’m sorry to hear about your grandparents.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago now.” I smile at him and say, “Let me get you a coffee. And a slice of pumpkin pie, on the house!”
Roman shakes his head. “You don’t need to do that.”
“I want to! Consider it a thank you.” I’m already starting on his coffee, trying to stop my hands from trembling. “How did you find me, anyway? I’m so glad that you did! Not many people would have gone to the effort.”
I cast a look over my shoulder and see Roman averting his gaze. “Wasn’t hard,” he says vaguely. “It’s a small town, not many Freyas. I asked around.”
He sounds almost sheepish when he says it, but I don’t push the subject.
“Do you live in Cherry Hollow?” I ask as I set down the coffee and cut a slice of pie as slowly as possible. I want to drag out this moment for as long as I can, before Roman walks out of here and out of my life, probably for good this time.
“Yeah, I live in the forest,” he says, watching me. “I have a cabin out there.”
“Oh! Are you a lumberjack?”
Cherry Hollow has a thriving timber industry, and the forests around here are full of lumberjacks. Roman certainly looks the part, with his plaid shirt and muscular arms.
“Yeah, still getting used to it, though. I only moved here recently.”
That explains why I’ve never seen him before. There’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed a man like Roman living in the same small town as me. I have a million more questions about where he moved from, why he came here, what his life is like out in the forest, but more people are entering the coffee shop, and there’s a line forming behind Roman. He doesn’t seem to care. He shifts his body slightly, like he’s forming a barrier between me and the other customers, but I can see my manager eyeing me from the other end of the counter.
Crap.
I wish I were brave enough to ask Roman out, but just like last night in the corn maze, I’m too much of a wimp. He probablyhas a beautiful wife waiting for him at home. My eyes dart to his hand, but the lack of a wedding ring doesn’t reassure me. Not everybody wears a ring—he could still be taken. Heck, even if he isn’t, I’m twenty two, and he’s clearly in his forties. He probably thinks I’m just a dumb kid.
“Well, here you go,” I say, pushing his coffee and pie toward him, accidentally splashing some coffee on the counter with my shaking hands. “Whoops! Sorry about the mess.”
Not just a dumb kid. A dumb AND clumsy kid.
“Don’t worry about it,” Roman says, grabbing a napkin and wiping up the spilled coffee for me. Then he reaches for his wallet.
“Hey!” I frown at him. “On the house, remember?”
“Sure.” His lips twitch into a half smile. “Doesn’t mean I can’t leave a tip, though.” The warmth in his voice makes my heart flutter as he sets a ten-dollar bill on the counter. I start to protest, but he shakes his head, his gaze burning into me. “See you later, Freya.”
Before I can do more than splutter another thank you, he’s already walking away. He pauses at the door, his hand hovering over the handle, and the world seems to hold its breath as he turns back to look at me. Someone is at the front of the line, trying to get my attention, but all I can see is Roman. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard, his jaw tightening like he’s having some kind of internal debate. Then, with a small nod in my direction, he disappears out of the coffee shop and into the crisp fall morning.
5
ROMAN