Page 22 of Red Hot Roaster

Rafe walked past me to the living room, carrying two plates loaded with enchiladas, along with forks and a roll of paper towels tucked under one arm. He frowned when I tried to clear a space on the coffee table with my bandaged hands.

Yeah, it took a moment, but I managed fine, thank you very much. Rafe pushed Princess to the floor and nudged Pirate over so he could create a spot on the other end of the couch. I clicked on the TV to watch some rom-com on Netflix—he didn’t protest—and we ate in silence.

After we finished our meal, Rafe checked a piece of paper on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen. I snuck a look while he was out. He’d been keeping track of the times for my meds. He returned with a fresh glass of water and two more ibuprofen.

We sat for a while more to watch the rest of the movie. By the ending credits, I was slumping sideways. Yeah, I needed to call it a day.

Rafe let the dogs out back one last time. Then he rattled all—and I meant all—the doors and windows on the first floor to make sure they were locked tight. He grumbled around the rooms, muttering something about needing more security here and different locks there. As if I had the money…

Grabbing my phone from the coffee table, I pushed myself upright and took a couple of steps toward the entry hall and stairs. Did I wobble? Yep. Did those stairs look daunting? Double yep. Would I end this horrible day asking for help in my own home? Nope.

Rafe made a move my way, like he was going to scoop me up again.

Shaking my head—fido, that ached—I waved him off and clomped over to the foot of the stairs. He hovered right behind me, like a guard dog afraid I’d collapse at any moment.

That’s what happened when you showed any sign of weakness. I didn’t want to rely on his help when he’d be gone at any moment.

Grasping the handrail, I pulled myself up the stairs, one step at a time. Rafe tracked my progress sooo close behind me—if I fell backward, we’d both tumble all the way down.

Or, more likely, he’d catch me. But I wasn’t counting on that.

The doggos followed us into my new bedroom, Pirate to settle in his huge bagel bed in the corner and Princess to snuggle against my leg for one last ear rub.

I was no fool. Since I was a smidge shaky, I asked Rafe to wait by the door while I brushed my teeth—awkwardly – and did my business—even more awkwardly. I left off the face-washing for now, because, well, bandaged hands.

Anyway, I’d never put on any makeup, given I’d started my day by running out of my house like a madwoman.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, he had my phone in his hand. I raised an eyebrow, and he said, “Sorry. Checking to see if your battery is charged up.” He didn’t sound that sorry.

He walked back to the door while I kicked off my slippers and climbed into bed.

“Rafe, please, hang on a moment.” I drew in a deep breath. “I couldn’t let today end without telling you how relieved I was to see you walking in the door this morning. I was hurting, and I looked up…and there you were. Thank you for everything you did for me today.”

The sides of his mouth quirked up. He turned out the light and said, “Good night, Rose.”

I turned on my side and burrowed under the covers. “Good night, Rafe, sleep tight,” I murmured as I was drifting off to sleep.Wait, wait,I thought to myself.What did I say?But then my exhaustion dragged me under.

Chapter 13

Rose

My gratefulness had a short shelf life.

It was Saturday morning, a week-plus later, and I was back in the roastery space, arguing in heated whispers with Rafe.

Whispers, because one of the kids was over at the worktable weighing and packing coffee blends into our custom bags.

Rafe and I faced each other in a furious standoff. He demanded that he pay rent for the apartment. I refused to accept any money since he was doing me a favor by staying close to me.

Plus, he was only going to camp there for a couple of months, three at the outside, before he took off for his next job. Wherever that would be.

Of course, Rafe didn’t see it that way. In fact, he seemed a little insulted—not my intent at all—by the implication that he’d expect to stay for free in exchange for helping me out.

How could I tell?

He stood all tense, towering over me, with his arms crossed, biceps flexed, corded and veiny forearms on display, staring me down.

Now mind you, I wasn’t intimidated. But I was a little distracted there for a moment by all the muscly gloriousness that was Rafe. I came out of my trance and met his glare head-on.

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