Page 63 of By the Letter

My stomach tightened. “Don’t work too hard. Neither of you should.”

Her lips tilted a little. “I won’t. Between you and Elliot, I don’t think either of us could get away with overworking ourselves.”

“That’s right.” I touched her shoulder, ignoring the small jolt that went through her. “If you need help, let me know.”

“Okay.” Her gaze swept over mine but didn’t linger. “Thanks for dinner. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

She twisted the knob, but before she could leave, I bent over her, used my fingertip to tilt her head back, and kissed her softly.

“Goodnight, Shira.”

“Goodnight, Roman.”

She dashed over to her house, and I watched until she disappeared inside.

I’d flustered her, but the god’s honest truth was I was right there with her. I couldn’t say kissing Shira hadn’t ever crossed my mind, not when she was as sweet as she was and howastonishingly sexy it was seeing her slowly bloom with my baby, but choosing to follow through hadn’t been planned. Instinct had led my lips to hers—a reaction to sharing something wonderful and happy.

At least the first kiss could be explained that way.

The second? Not so much. That was for me, to test whether her lips had really tasted as good as I’d thought.

I should have been kicking myself. I always avoided unnecessary complications, and kissing Shira certainly added complications to the web we’d already tangled ourselves in.

Instead, I found myself grinning as I closed the door. I may have been the one to kiss her first, but there was no question Shira Goldman hadn’t hesitated to kiss me back.

Chapter Twenty-one

Shira

When I’d been marriedto Frank, I’d attended more galas and charity functions than I could’ve counted. My lifestyle with him had been so drastically different from how I’d grown up. I never could have fathomed all the moving parts that went into throwing an event like that.

Now, I knew, and I was exhausted.

Kit was only a few weeks from her due date and much to Elliot’s chagrin, she was running around the venue like a hyperactive bunny. He stayed right behind her, constantly offering her chairs, water, food, and I imagine a chariot too. Meanwhile, I was fifteen weeks behind her, and I was dreaming about crawling into my bed when this thing was over, and it hadn’t even begun.

For an introvert with social anxiety, weeks of phone calls and in-person meetings had drained me. That was why I was currently in the kitchen with Bea, ostensibly to help her set up her charcuterie trays, but we both knew I was hiding.

Bea was in full concentration mode, creating roses out of meat, folding cheese artistically, arranging it all on large wooden trays that would be placed around the room for guests to graze from. My mouth was watering as I watched her. Somehow, she noticed, passing me a small cup of nuts, crackers, and dried apricots without even looking up.

“So…I had a run-in,” she stated, her movements smooth and efficient.

“A run-in?”

“With the billionaire.”

My Beatrice was a menace. There was something about her that caused men to walk into brick walls trying to get a look at her. Not only that, but she seemed to constantly find herself in the center of minor disasters. For the last two years, this often happened in the presence of her mysterious billionaire. She’d only seen him from behind and through the window of his limo, but she knew his driver’s name was Igor.

“Oh? Did you incite a riot? Cause a forest fire?”

She smirked as she worked. “Nothing so mundane. Benjamin and I were out for a walk in the park near our houses, and he found a puddle.”

“Oh no.” While Bea was frequently the center of disasters, Benjamin was even more frequently the cause of them.

“A muddy puddle. He managed to plant himself in it and soak every inch of his fur. Then he saw a squirrel.”

I cringed. “Ohno.”

“Ohyes. Naturally, I was distracted by the puddle, so when he darted after the squirrel, I wasn’t holding on to his leash asfirmly as I should have been, and he escaped. Of course, the squirrel was headed straight for the road.”

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