Page 56 of By the Letter

His knee nudged mine. “What’d I tell you about thanking me? Not necessary.”

“And didn’t I tell you there was no way for you to stop me?”

His chuckle was like a marble on wood, rolling through the room and over my chest.

After a beat, he grew serious. “So, you have a new job?”

“I do. I’ve been working at Building Dignity for two weeks. It’s not going to be full time, which is perfect for right now. I love Kit, and BD is doing really incredible work. In fact, I was going to ask you for a favor.”

“Anything,” he replied.

“A lung?” I joked.

“Do you need a lung?” He was nothing but serious.

“No, I don’t.” I bit down on my bottom lip, formulating how to ask him for what I truly did need. It would have been easier to email him my request, but since he was here, watching me expectantly, this would have to happen now. “Building Dignity is hosting a silent auction next weekend—”

“Wells Investments bought a table. We’ll be there.”

“Oh, good. That’s really good.” I tucked a stray tendril behind my ear. “We’re still seeking a few more auction items, and I thought, since you are part owner of the Mountain Lions, perhaps you would be willing to donate a—”

“I’ll donate fully-catered box seating for ten people. How does that sound?”

I wrinkled my nose. “It sounds lovely. Thank you. Kit and I really appreciate your generosity.”

“Then why the face?”

I touched my nose. “Oh. I didn’t mean to make a face. Sometimes it just happens.”

“Okay, but why did you?”

This was difficult. With Bea and Clara, speaking my mind had become second nature. It was becoming like that with Kit as well. But I wasn’t there with Roman. I doubted I ever would be. His presence was too overpowering, and my cowering instinct, leftover from a childhood where becoming invisible had been the only thing to protect me, came out all too often around him.

“Shira?” he pressed as gently as he was capable.

My hand went to my stomach, and so did his eyes. Not having them on my face made it easier to tell the truth.

“You interrupted me twice,” I pushed out in little more than a whisper. “That’s why I made that expression.”

His eyes shot back to mine. I braced for anger but didn’t find it. “I did?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re right, I did. I didn’t mean to barrel over you. I’m sorry about that, Goldie. Do you want to finish what you were going to ask me?”

“Well…no.”

“No?”

The corners of my mouth twitched. “I was going to ask you for regular seats. In this case, I’m sort of glad you barreled over me.”

“Ah. It worked out for the best, but I won’t make a habit of it. Thanks for pointing it out.” He nodded toward my stomach. “Now that that’s settled, let’s talk about the other reason I’m here. Can I see?”

“My stomach?”

His brow crinkled. “Is that too much to ask? You can tell me if it is. I won’t be mad. I’m just…curious. Fascinated.”

I rubbed my lips together nervously. This man had seen every inch of me, yet I was internally balking at showing him this—a small part of me that was home to his son.

With a deep breath, I opened my sweater. The tank I wore beneath molded over my curves like a second skin. My stomach was still pretty small but distinctly round and firm.

Roman grunted, his hand gravitating toward me. At the last second, before he made contact, his eyes lifted to mine. “Can I?”

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