11. Best Believe You’ll Regret It – Zoe
Chapter 11
Best Believe You’ll Regret It
PLAYLIST: “HOME” BY DAUGHTRY
ZOE
Roman pushed up off the floor and extended a hand to help me to my feet. “Maybe Missy did have secrets, and maybe they are what got her killed, but I’m still sorry for my role in destroying your friendship.”
“I played just as big a part in that disaster as you did, and as much as it pains me to speak an ugly truth about my dead best friend, Missy played just as big a part in wrecking our friendship as either you or I did, Rome. If you really heard our second fight the day she died, you heard the things we said to each other. It would have taken a miracle for us to come back from what we said to each other that day.”
“I know,” Roman huffed out a humorless laugh. “I didn’t know either one of you had such a capacity for vicious, bitterly cruel honesty until I overheard that conversation… and tried to comfort you afterward.”
I winced and paced away from him, needing to put some space between us. “All those things I said to you that day… I didn’t really mean them, and I’m sorry. I was hurt and angry, and pushing you away seemed easier than hashing things out.”
“I guess my idiot plan to make you jealous worked after all, huh?” Roman’s wry, self-deprecating chuckle pulled a laugh out of me, too.
“God… we were all such stupid fucking selfish kids.” A lump formed in my throat and I struggled, trying so hard to swallow it and failing entirely. “It still doesn’t feel real that she’s dead, you know?”
“I know, baby. Nothing has felt real since that summer.”
I scrubbed my hands over my face, but let them drop back to my sides, hanging heavy with exhaustion. “It feels even more surreal now, knowing that there may have been foul play, and my father pressured Mo Sheridan to cover it up because he knew we’d be the top two murder suspects, and he was trying his best to protect us.”
“I know.” Roman’s expression sobered, his dark eyes turning distant and guarded as they trailed down to the engagement ring on my finger. “Where does this leave us, Zo?”
I reached out and took Roman’s hand, lacing our fingers together. “I made you a promise. I’m going to stay and help you save my family’s ranch from David Michaelson, not to mention trying to save both our asses from this witch hunt Michael Carter and Deputy Barton have set Sheriff Spencer on. I was serious, Rome. I’m here to stay this time. I’m committed to Twisted Creek, and I’m committed to you.”
“For your father’s sake. You’ve made that abundantly clear.” Roman clenched his jaw and looked away, trying to hide the tightness around his eyes as they took on a haunted, faraway expression.
I stepped around in front of Roman, gripping both of his forearms and gently tugging him over to sit on the couch with me. “Hey, no. Look at me. Please?”
Roman stubbornly kept his face turned away from me until I reached out and gently gripped his chin, turning him to face me.
Roman tugged his chin out of my grip and shook his head. “In the elevator at the hospital, you said you’d do anything, including marrying me for real, if that’s what it takes to put your father’s mind at ease and safeguard Twisted Creek. I remember every detail. You also said he can never know the truth. You’ve made it perfectly clear that this is just business for you?—”
“Rome, stop.” I kissed him to stop him from throwing my own horrible words back in my face. “You told me the truth about visiting Miami every six months. Now it’s my turn.”
Roman cocked his head, going eerily still as he gave me his full attention. When he spoke, his voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear it. “The truth about what, Zo?”
“Two things, actually.” I held up my fingers and ticked them off. “First of all, this is not just business for me, no matter what I said in the elevator, or the day Missy died, for that matter. Second, I see what a decent, hardworking, passionate man you are and I’m genuinely sorry for every time I’ve ever made you feel less than worthy of the kind of love you deserve. Me pushing you away has never been about you… not really.”
Roman snorted and shook his head. “It felt a whole hell of a lot like it was about me when you said it was fine to fuck the help, but that didn’t mean you had to be a sucker and marry them. It felt even more like a personal attack that was definitely about me when you told me you didn’t need or want comfort from some worthless, dumb as dirt nobody cowboy who was going nowhere and doing nothing with his life?—”
“I’m so sorry, Roman.” I bit my lip and hung my head, ashamed of myself for saying such horrible things to him. Reaching out, I gripped his hand and twined our fingers together, giving his hand a pleading squeeze. “I said horrible things to you that day, and I didn’t really mean any of them. I was hurt and betrayed and angry and doing everything in my power to push you away because I did have feelings for you, even then, and they scared me half to death. I figured it was better to end things then and there and lose you on my own terms than ever risk loving you and losing you the way I lost my mom.”
Roman’s grip on my hand tightened, and he went so still that I wasn’t even sure he was breathing. His gaze bored into me. “And what about now?”
I reached up with my free hand, cupping his cheek and savoring the scrape of his beard against my palm. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Even if it was obvious, I would still need to hear you say it, Zo. Give me that, at the very least… please. Haven’t I waited long enough?”
“Fair enough.” I leaned forward, brushing my lips against his. “I love you. No matter what I said, no matter what I did, no matter how long I was gone… that never stopped being true.”
Roman relaxed back into the couch, like an immense weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and tugged me to him. I shifted, so I was straddling him, sitting in his lap, and wound my arms around his neck, holding him tight. His beard scraped against my cheek, and I sighed as he stroked my hair and pressed a kiss against my temple.
“Say it again.”
“I love you, Roman York, and I’m going to marry you.”
Roman kissed me, his hands trailing down my body to grip my hips, pinning me against him as his tongue swept against mine. I moaned and arched against him, stunned when he broke the kiss and pulled back.
I frowned. “What is it?”
“Did you mean what you said to your father about giving him potential grandbabies, too?”
I stilled, sitting with the question as the full weight of it rolled through me. “Yes. I don’t want to rush, or push you into anything you’re not ready for yet?—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there, darlin’. What about me gives you the idea that I’m not ready to have kids with the woman I’ve loved for my entire life?”
My heart started hammering in triple time at his admission, at the implication, at the idea of us having kids together. My mouth went dry and my stomach flipped and fluttered.
Roman threaded his fingers through my hair and pulled me close, kissing me until I was dizzy and we were both breathless. He pulled back, and I rested my forehead against his, grazing the tip of his nose with the tip of mine.
“Are we really doing this, Rome?” I whispered the words against his lips, settling into the warmth of his embrace.
Roman leaned back a little and tipped my chin up so he could gaze into my eyes. “You bet your sweet ass we are, baby. I’ve been waiting my whole life to do this with you. We can go straight to the courthouse tomorrow and make it official, if you want.”
I nodded, even as I chewed on my bottom lip. “I think that’s probably a good idea, but I’d also like to have an actual wedding ceremony some time. Something small, here at the ranch, that my dad can be involved in.”
“Of course. You just tell me what you want and we’ll find a way to make it happen, sweetheart.” Roman leaned up and kissed my forehead.
“I love you.” My body went boneless and my eyes fluttered closed. I melted against his chest, tucking my head under his chin as I heaved out a long, gusty sigh.
Roman rubbed my back, his warm hand making big, soothing circles, lightly massaging my exhausted muscles. “What’s the big sigh about, Firecracker?”
“I’ve basically been home for a day and a half and my whole entire world seems like it changed overnight.” I murmured the words against the column of his throat, suddenly so exhausted I wasn’t sure I could pry my eyes open again, even if my life depended on it.
“Is that a bad thing?” Roman’s tone was carefully neutral, and I winced at the sudden distance that tone seemed to put between us, even though I was still cradled against his chest.
“No… it’s not bad, just different.” I pressed a kiss against the fluttering pulse point in his throat, hoping the gesture would reassure him. “And it means I have about a million things I need to do, but between getting up at the ass crack of dawn to meet with the vet, getting the big house ready for dad to come home from the hospital, moving us into my parents’ old bedroom, cleaning the bathroom my mom died in, and Michael showing up and attacking me… I just… I don’t know if I have it in me to do any of them right now.”
“Then don’t worry about any of them right now, sugar. Just go upstairs and take a nice, hot shower while I get dinner on the table. Tomorrow’s another day, and we can start tackling whatever it is you need to handle after you get a good night’s sleep.”
Roman lifted me off his lap and helped me stand up, giving me a gentle nudge toward the stairs.
I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck, massaging the knot of tension that had formed there at the thought of all the things I needed to handle over the next few days. “A hot shower and a home cooked meal sounds… divine. And I didn’t know you could cook.”
“I’m a man of many talents, Zo. Now go get cleaned up while I fix us some supper.” Roman gave me a gentle, playful pat on the ass and I couldn’t help grinning, even as I rolled my eyes at the same time.
It was such an easy, familiar gesture, and it left me feeling warm and fuzzy from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
* * *
When I walked back downstairs, phone in hand and considering whether or not it was already too late to make the calls I needed to make to Miami, the familiar scent of my mother’s homemade chicken gnocchi soup recipe washed over me.
My steps faltered, and I paused, struggling to swallow the massive lump of emotion that had formed in my throat. It had been so long since I’d smelled the warm, savory mixture of chicken, onion, garlic, thyme, carrots, and celery, all in a perfect white cream sauce. The scent brought tears of gratitude to my eyes as I shuffled into the kitchen and slumped into a chair.
“I haven’t smelled this exact recipe in twenty years.” I breathed it deep, closing my eyes as I savored the scent of the soup. “What made you decide to make mom’s chicken gnocchi for dinner?”
Roman shrugged. “It was always your favorite comfort food when we were kids, and with everything we’ve got going on right now, I figured you could use your favorite go-to comfort food. So, I looked through the recipe cards, found your mom’s chicken gnocchi recipe, and I made it for you.”
Hot tears welled in my eyes as I pushed up out of my chair and rushed over to Roman, throwing my arms around his neck and squeezing him tight. “That was so sweet and thoughtful, Rome. Thank you.”
Roman wrapped his arms around my waist and held me even tighter, squeezing back as if we could somehow hold each other and our lives together with this embrace alone.
I snuggled deeper into Roman’s arms and sighed. “Do you think it’s too late for me to make all those calls I need to make to Miami right now?”
Roman pressed a kiss against the hollow just beneath my ear. “Yeah, I do. It’s dinnertime here, and it’s later than that on the East Coast. The calls can wait until after we handle the important things tomorrow… like getting married.”
“I know you’re right.” I sucked in a deep breath and pulled back before pressing a firm kiss against his lips. “What can I do to help? Can I butter some bread or fix some drinks or anything?”
Rome jerked his chin at the refrigerator. “There’s some frozen Texas Toast garlic bread in the freezer. If you want to get that out and put it on a baking sheet, then pop it in the oven to go with the chicken gnocchi soup, that’d be good.”
I nodded and got to work, finding it strangely easy to fall into this domestic rhythm with Roman despite the fact that it was wildly different from my life back in Miami. Just three days ago, I wouldn’t have been able to picture myself doing something like this if you’d asked me to.
Smiling to myself, I shook my head as I pulled the bread out of the freezer, opened the box, and laid it out on the baking sheet.
Strange how quickly life can change.
The oven beeped to signal that it had reached the temperature Roman had set it to pre-heat to, and I opened it, sliding the pan of frozen garlic bread onto the top rack. The second I got the oven door closed, something clattered and thudded on the front porch.
I jumped and clutched my chest, my heart hammering against my ribcage. “What the hell was that?”
An engine revved and tires spun on gravel as someone roared down the driveway, away from the house.
Roman and I froze for just a moment, staring at each other. His mouth pressed into a grim line and he shook his head, even as I bolted to the front door and jerked it open, glaring out into the night at a retreating pair of tail lights.
Finally, my gaze fell to a brick lying on the mat in front of the door with a piece of paper tied around it. I snorted and rolled my eyes.
“Rome, looks like we had a visitor who sent us some air mail.”
Roman nudged me aside and picked up the brick, un-tying the twine from around it to retrieve the message, growling like a junkyard dog as he read it.
I raised an eyebrow at him in question. “What’s it say?”
His expression dark and sour, Roman passed the piece of paper over to me, and I read it.
You should have stayed in Miami where you belong, bitch. Best believe you’ll regret ever coming home.