Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
ROMILLY
I can’t believe what I see when I open the box. It’s my favorite food in all the land—Rosemary Banquet’s signature roast chicken and cranberry pecan salad. There’s even a wedge of Camembert cheese on the side, my favorite because of its mild flavor and creamy texture.
I can’t believe he did this.
In all the time I spent dating Cole, he never got a single food order of mine correct, let alone did anything this thoughtful for me.
Be smart, Romilly. Keep your head on straight. Resist his charms.
But the lecture I give myself doesn’t work. I try to stop the feelings from surging up inside me, but I can’t. A flutter rises in my stomach for Bash, accompanied by gratitude and disbelief. I don’t know how to stop it, to shove it back down, no matter how badly I want to.
I think I like him. And not just any kind of like…but a crush.
I have a crush on Bash.
I scarf down my meal. My stomach is cramped and tight because of how long it’s been since I last ate. He was right—I am hungry. And I can’t believe he was watching me closely enough to know how long it had been since I last ate.
I try to push thoughts of him away as I satisfy my hunger, but I just keep imagining the way his demanding gaze captured my attention, his insistence that I take a break.
His concern this morning when he stepped in between me and the homeless man is practically burned into my brain.
I’ll never forget how quickly he went from the playful, unbothered Bash to murderously defensive for me.
I’ve never felt so protected. He made me feel safe.
It was…hot.
Come on, Romilly. Where is that fierce independence you’ve been clinging so tightly to? But the words Jake spoke a few weeks ago at rehearsal before church ring through my head as well.
You can have a man, too. You’re allowed to do something for yourself.
Can I? Am I willing to let go of the trust issues Cole so graciously left me with when he wordlessly abandoned me and then later revealed he was seeing someone else the entire time we were together?
If I couldn’t see through his act during that year together, how am I supposed to ever trust another man and believe he’s who he says he is?
Maybe it’s myself I don’t trust because I wasn’t able to see through Cole’s lies.
Still, Bash feels different somehow.
Even though he’s probably the most handsome and flirtatious man I’ve ever met, I can’t help but feel like there’s more to him.
I pick up my phone from where it’s resting on the front desk. Nibbling delicately on the cheese, I send Addison a message.
Me
You’ll never guess what just happened.
Addison
What?!
Me
Bash brought me lunch from Perry’s restaurant and it just so happened to be my favorite dish.
Addison
HOW THOUGHTFUL
MARRY THAT MAN
I roll my eyes. I know for a fact she had something to do with this. I don’t even have to ask, and I won’t because she won’t tell me anyway. But it still makes me smile.
Me
Not all of us get to have the epic love story you and Perry do. Sorry Adds.
Addison
Says who? I’m fully invested in the situationship you two have going on.
Me
There is no situationship. There’s nothing between me and Bash
Addison
Then why were his eyes glued to your face that day at church? And you kept looking at him, too. There was no hiding those stares, Rom.
Me
I’m getting back to work now.
Addison
You know the saddest part of your stubbornness? You’re keeping a good woman from someone out there. I feel bad for the man who’s missing out on your amazing-ness
A tiny knot forms in my throat as I read her last message. Not because of the compliment, even though it feels so good to know she thinks I’m amazing. But the idea that I’ve become so hardened to anything close to falling in love—and all because of Cole—makes my heart ache.
He doesn’t get to influence this much of who I’ve become. He doesn’t deserve that power.
Maybe, just maybe, I could lower some of my internal walls just an inch, but no more. Closing my eyes, I silently pray, God, if it’s your will, please help me do this for the right person and no one else.
I take a steadying breath as I clean up my lunch mess. When I head back to my station, Bash is organizing my tools. My scissors are neatly arranged on my tray, and he’s oiling my favorite pair of clippers.
“You don’t have to do that.”
His gaze cuts to mine. “I know.”
There they are again, those annoying butterflies making me feel giddy and lightheaded as they swarm my insides. Why does he have to be so sweet? And that voice, so deep and calming. And those arms…
Bash looks me over. “Enjoy your meal? You look a little better.”
“How did you know what to order me?” If Addison won’t admit it, maybe he will. “Like, not only do I love that restaurant, but that dish is my favorite of all time. Are you stalking me or something?”
“Stalking you? Come on.” A massive smile appears on his face. “I’m just glad you liked it. And speaking of food, have you decided to come to my sister’s brunch yet?”
Not this again. It’s not that I don’t want to go. It’s that I do. Me wanting to go is the reason I shouldn’t. “I’m still thinking about it. I really need to get back to work, though. There’s still so much…”
“I know. Tell me how I can help.”
I normally wouldn’t have a bather help with any grooming work, but since I overbooked myself to help my rating and he agreed to help me with this, I show him how to trim the remaining canines’ body outlines, paws, and tails with my tools.
I outline exactly what to do on each dog.
Hopefully he doesn’t mess up, because that would probably make my rating worse, and his help will definitely save me a few hours of work.
We get into the groove, working harder than ever and barely speaking to each other. As much as I never wanted to rely on anyone, even a dog bather, I can’t deny there’s no way I’d be able to do any of this without him.
Still, even with Bash’s hands on deck, eight p.m. approaches, and we still aren’t finished.
I’m starting to see double.
My hands feel like they belong to someone else as they move, snipping and shaving each dog’s fur to perfection. A dull ache begins in my shoulder blades, and my lower back has been on fire since lunchtime. I step back from Coco, the Maltipoo I’m working on, and release a shaky breath.
“Romilly.” Bash’s hand grazes my back. That simple touch makes my heart thunder in my chest. “Perhaps we should reschedule the rest. I’m sure the owners will understand.”
“But…that’s so unprofessional. And the whole point of this was to please them.
” My throat burns with unshed tears. I can’t believe I let this happen.
I’ve taken on more than I can handle in the past, but never to this level.
The knowledge that I might have to send some of these dogs home unfinished makes panic and anxiety twist in my chest.
“You’re going to work yourself into the ground.” Bash’s normally casual tone is laced with concern again, just like it was this morning. “Please. You’re all work.”
“I kind of have to be right now.” I mean for it to sound sharp, but I’m so drained, it comes out a low murmur.
“Come. Sit for a moment.” He tethers Coco and guides me to the waiting area at the front of The Paw Spa.
I sit.
Resting my muscles feels unreal. Too good to be true.
I cover my face with my hands in defeat. I hate that Bash is seeing me like this. I’m supposed to be the responsible one. His boss. His future sponsor.
“I’m going to call the remaining pet parents and reschedule them,” Bash says. There’s no wiggle room in his tone, no space for negotiation. This is happening.
I failed.
I swallow back my tears. “Okay.”
He crosses the room to the front desk and picks up the phone.
Four dogs is a lot to reschedule, even if it doesn’t sound like it.
I die a little inside with each call he makes, even though it seems to be going well.
Maybe that has something to do with the way he’s laying his accent on thick and calling everyone “love.”
I stand up, feeling the need to do something. “I’m going to clean up so we can go home.”
Bash nods, the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear as he types on the computer.
As I vacuum up the giant wads of fur covering the ground and put our tools away, Bash makes trips from the kennels to the entrance to return each dog to their parents as they arrive. My cheeks burn with shame. I can’t face any of them right now. There’s no way.
When I’m done cleaning, I sit on the ground and let a few tears finally escape. This isn’t you, Romilly. You can do better. You have no choice.
“Are you… crying ?”
My gaze snaps up to see Bash standing a few feet away with his brows pulled together. He walks over and extends his hand to pull me up.
I take it and get to my feet. “I’m just frustrated. I can’t believe I messed up like this.”
“It’s not your fault. It happens.” He says it so nonchalantly.
“Not to me.”
He offers me a crooked smile. “Do you want solutions, or comfort right now?”
Solutions , I think to myself. But the word won’t come out. Tears clog my throat, so I just shake my head.
Hesitating, he gently pulls me into the circle of his arms. The moment it happens, a calm washes over me.
His steady heart thuds against my right ear, and I sniffle back the remaining tears.
I never realized how hard his chest was until this morning when he hugged me the first time, or how having my face pressed against it would still my current of anxious thoughts.
He releases me too soon. I’m still lost in the hug and the way it felt when he says, “Let me drive you home.”
“I can drive myself.”
“I know you can. But you’re clearly exhausted and upset, and I’d feel better if you let me take you home.”
I nod, because I simply don’t have it in me to put up a fight right now and still be polite about it. “Okay.” My tone is stiff because things feel too close between us after that hug. And I need some distance, because right now, it’s getting hard to think straight.