24. Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-four
Shira
I’d convinced myself everything that happened after the auction had been a one-time event—that it had been Roman’s overprotective streak going haywire, resulting in his drive to pleasure me over and over without thought for himself.
Well, I was wrong.
The next day, and the next, and the next, he walked into my house, picked me up in his arms, placed me where he wanted me, and buried his face between my thighs. I could have been cooking dinner, vacuuming…it didn’t matter. Roman seemed to be on a mission to make me come, and he was immensely successful. Sometimes, he would do it once, we’d have dinner, and he’d do it again before going home.
Everything else stayed the same. He came in the mornings and left me notes and breakfast. Some nights, we hung out with his brothers and watched whichever sports game was on TV, often leading to me falling asleep.
We didn’t have sex, and the kisses he gave me were on my forehead, hair, or light brushes on my lips.
If this was his version of being a good friend, I supposed it was nice, but it was also driving me mad. On the one hand, I had never come so regularly in my life. On the other, I wanted to be fucked, dammit.
I blushed at admitting it inside my head. Asking for it was out of the question. And if he rejected me? Well…nothing good would come of it.
So, time passed, the world kept spinning, we left notes for each other, we ate dinner together most nights, Roman and Mary warred, and we didn’t fuck.
Shira,
Mary brought me the mouse I gave her last week. She’d gutted it. No stuffing left in it at all. What do you think this means? Is it a threat?
I have a question for you: would you rather have rocking chair legs or slinky arms?
See you tonight for dinner.
X,
Rom e
Roman,
Being given a gutted mouse is the highest compliment you can receive from a cat. I’m starting to worry Mary loves you more than me.
My answer might have been different before Beanie, but I think rocking chair legs could come in handy soon, so that’s my choice.
Would you rather always wear a mask or have a face everyone forgets within five minutes?
Sorry for falling asleep last night. Thanks for not letting Ben draw a mustache on me. You’re always looking out for me.
Yours,
Shira
Shira,
Mary jumped out of a pile of towels again this morning. We’re back to where we started. No worries about me usurping you in her affections. You’ve got her locked down. I’m just her unwitting victim.
I’d rather wear a mask. I seem to have really good luck wearing masks.
Come over to my place tonight. Ben’s out of town with his team. No danger of mustaches. You can fall asleep without any worry.
See you then.
X,
Rome
A month flew by. In that time, Kit and Elliot welcomed their baby girl, Brooke, into the world. They weren’t ready for visitors yet, but Kit and I talked often. She was adjusting well, going from two to three little ones, and proclaimed it had a lot to do with Elliot being a rock star dad.
I was beginning to believe I would have something like that with Roman too. His interest in our baby had been constant since he’d found out, and his caretaking was so steady, I didn’t doubt it. It was like he couldn’t help himself. Even though I’d promised I wouldn’t, I’d let myself get used to it. When it came down to it, I simply couldn’t see him leaving me high and dry. And if he did, I’d be able to take care of Beanie and me, so leaning on him wasn’t as scary as it could have been.
Briefly, I wondered what Frank would have thought if he saw me now. Our marriage had never been meant to produce babies or be a fairy tale. We’d been companions who had understood what we’d been and what we’d never would have.
If I knew my late husband, he wouldn’t have been overjoyed I was no longer at GoldMed, but I thought he’d be happy seeing me on the verge of motherhood. He’d always been contrite for taking most of my twenties, but I’d known what I’d signed up for, and that meant leaving behind my illusions of a conventional happily ever after.
Roman appeared in the doorway of my bedroom as I was slipping on the Denver Mountain Lions jersey he’d given me. He leaned against the jamb, folded his arms, and drawled, “Heeyyy, Goldie. I like seeing you wearing my team's colors.”
I gave him a soft smile. “Hey, Wim. Do I look like a real rugby fan?”
“Don’t know about that, but you are cute as a button.”
Tonight was the night we put my auction win to use. We were headed to my first-ever rugby game, and we were doing it in style. His brothers would be in the box with us, as well as Clara, Jake, and Bea. I was looking forward to the game, but it was the food I’d truly been fantasizing about.
Straightening, Roman approached me, his head cocked. “You looked like you were deep in thought.”
“I was.” I pushed a small gold hoop into my lobe. “Just imagining what Frank would think about where my life is.”
His fingers flexed on my belly. I flicked my eyes up to his face, and his jaw rippled. “Do you miss him?”
“Of course I do. He was my husband, Rome.” I turned away from him to put on my other earring. “I know you think I was only with him for his money, but that isn’t true. I cared for him deeply.”
It hadn’t been a love match, but I’d spent nine years with him. If I hadn’t come to care for him, what kind of person would I have been?
“Sorry. That was a stupid thing to ask. Why wouldn’t you miss him?” He dropped his hand from my belly and took a step back. “The car’s waiting for us. Are you ready?”
“Just need to run to the restroom.”
He nodded. “I’ll wait outside for you.”
A few minutes later, I climbed into the limo parked by the curb. Roman was sitting on the far side of the cushy bench, a can of beer in his hand resting on his thigh. Things seemed unsettled, and since conflict made me want to run and hide, I couldn’t resist the urge to fix it.
“My mother worked for Frank. That was how we met.” In my periphery, Roman went solid. He really didn’t like hearing about Frank. “She cleaned his house and ran his errands. Then she got sick, and I had to quit college to take care of her. We needed money, and Frank had adored my mom, so he hired me in her place.”
I picked at the hem of my jersey, wishing I was talking about anything other than this. I would have much rather told Roman about the good parts of my mom, but that wasn’t for today.
“She went fast. So, so fast. Then I was alone, and I couldn’t stay in our apartment without her. Frank paid for my mom’s burial and asked me to move in with him. I was in no position to say no, and I didn’t want to. I was adrift, and he offered me safe harbor.”
Roman hummed, his fingers open and closing in his lap, but he didn’t ask questions or interrupt.
“He asked me to marry him, promised me security and a home, and I accepted. I was twenty.”
“He took advantage of you,” he gritted out. “Don’t you see that?”
“I know why you would think that.”
I didn’t blame him for believing that. Not one bit. But I hated how tense he was. Maybe that was why I spilled the secret I’d kept almost entirely to myself for a decade.
“We didn’t have sex.”
Roman’s head whipped to the side, his brow furrowed deep. “What?”
I swallowed, then blurted out, “Frank and I didn’t have a sexual relationship. Before I met him, he had advanced prostate cancer. The surgery and treatment were aggressive. They left him permanently…unable.”
He blinked three times as if trying to decipher whether I was real. “Did you know that before you were married?”
“I did, and I was okay with it. We were dear friends, and we loved each other very, very much, but not like that. The treatment had left him with permanent damage to his heart and a dim prognosis for his lifespan. He’d wanted a wife to be by his side and take care of him when he got sick again, and…well, you know why I was with him.”
“Fuck.” He drove his fingers through his hair. “All those years…nothing? He didn’t take care of your needs?”
I shook my head. “No, Rome. It wasn’t like that between us. When I tell you we were friends, I mean it in the truest form.”
His eyes went cloudy as though he were lost. Clara and Bea had had a similar expression when I’d told them. It had been hard for them to understand why I would have agreed to something like that, and I’d been glad they’d never been so desperate and alone in the world to be able to put themselves in my shoes.
“Christ, Shira, I don’t know what to say. This is messing with my mind.”
“Frank was a prideful man, and he would hate for anyone to know this about him. Please keep this between us.”
His eyes landed on me, hard and steady. “I would never tell anyone. It’s no one’s business.”
I blew out a heavy breath. “Thank you. I don’t even know why I told you. I guess so you might understand a little more about me.”
Nostrils flaring, he inhaled sharply. “You hadn’t been with anyone before the night we were together—after Frank…?”
I smiled at his incredulousness. “Not since my first and only boyfriend in college ten years ago.”
“ Fuck .” He scrubbed his face hard with his hands. “You have so much lost time to make up for.”
It took everything in me to whisper, “I’d like to.”
He lowered his hands to stare at me, his eyes ablaze. “That’s not happening.”
My heart dropped along with my jaw. “Oh. Okay, I—”
Grabbing my thigh, he yanked me across the bench so I was flush with his side, then he took my chin between two fingers and tilted my head back, bringing us almost nose to nose.
“I mean, if you need to make up for lost time, it will be with me.”
My nose crinkled. “You’ve been helping with that.”
He touched my nose with his fingertip. “Then what’s this about? When that nose gets wrinkly, I know there’s something you’re not saying.”
My heart was a battering ram against my chest, and my chin had begun to quiver. Roman didn’t make me so nervous anymore most of the time, but the way he was looking at me and the topic…it was difficult to breathe, let alone form a cognizant thought.
“Are you nervous, Shira?”
I nodded.
He shifted his body so he was half over me, pressing me into the back of the seat. His hand braced next to my head, caging me in. I should have felt intimidated, but I felt safe in the cave Roman had made for me with his body.
“You don’t have to be nervous with me, Goldie,” he uttered so gently my body responded. My heartbeat slowed, allowing me to take a full, deep breath. “There’s my girl. Now, tell me what you want.”
I closed my eyes. There was no way I could say this with my eyes open.
“You, inside me.”
His exhale was a stuttering, messy thing. “I can give you that. I would fucking love to give you that.”
My eyes fluttered open, unsurprised to find his burning into me. “Okay.”
After a beat, his mouth stretched into a grin. “You had to bring this up before the game, didn’t you? No way you want to skip it and head back home?”
I shook my head, smiling back. “No way.”
“Christ.” His forehead dropped to mine. “Well, I guess we’re going to have to hope the anticipation doesn’t kill me.”
My toes curled in my sneakers. Let’s hope.