1. Chapter 1
Roman
“ H ang on a second, beautiful.”
I turn to see Beck holding fluffy black earmuffs in his hands. “What’s that for?”
He grins, his eyes sparkling. “You.” Um, no. I’m not wearing those. Not happening. “It’s cold. Please wear them.”
Ugh. And now he’s pouting at me. “Fine,” I say with a sigh.
His grin grows as he closes the distance between us, distracting me with a kiss while he puts the fluffy black muffs over my ears. They are warm. I’ll give him that. I smile against his lips as he drops his hands and grabs my waist.
When he breaks our kiss, his smile has grown from barely there to fucking radiant, and my heart tumbles over itself. “Well, don’t you look adorable.”
My cheeks heat and his eyes light up. Lord have mercy. “Thank you, baby,” I whisper, kissing him again. “I’ll see you after work? We’re still going to Hold and Julian’s for dinner, right?”
Beck nods. “Yes, sir.”
I can’t resist stealing another quick kiss. Three years after getting Beck back, and I’m just as insatiable as I always was. He tries to tangle his fingers in my hair, but laughs against my lips when he realizes he can’t—courtesy of the stupid fucking earmuffs he’s making me wear.
“I better get going,” I say.
Beck looks down at his phone and sighs. “Yeah, me too.”
I glance over at Kassie where she’s curled up on the couch. Spoiled-ass dog. She really was the best Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten.
He grabs my hand, and we walk out the front door together, pausing only long enough for Beck to lock up behind us.
With my free hand, I tug my thick wool coat tighter around my body. I won’t admit it to him, but the earmuffs weren’t a bad idea at all. Although, I do find it a little suspicious that I’m wearing some and he isn’t. Oh well.
After saying our goodbyes and climbing into our cars, we take off in opposite directions to work.
When I pull into the parking lot of the non-profit I started, I smile.
I always do. Especially when I see the sign reading, The Hart Foundation .
Who knew my future husband’s last name—soon to be mine as well—would make for such a great play on words?
When I get out of the car, the wind immediately cuts through me.
Even the coat I’m wearing doesn’t do much to block the chill.
It’s already started snowing, but it doesn’t seem too bad so far, and I’m hoping it doesn’t get worse.
By the time I make the short walk to the front door, my teeth are chattering and my fingers are numb.
I step inside and turn on all the lights, not that I’m expecting anyone to come in today. My calendar is clear, and it’s cold, so I don’t imagine we’ll have many walk-ins, but I guess anything is possible.
With Beck’s and my wedding coming up soon, I’ve given most of the staff time off since they’ll be handling everything for the month after. We aren’t going on a honeymoon per se, but we’re taking off the week before and a full month after, so we can just enjoy our time together as newlyweds.
Glancing at the framed photo of Beck and me on my desk, I smile.
The photo is one of my favorites. It’s one of the first that we took when I came back to town.
Beck’s lying on my chest, his head tilted back to look up at me.
I’m cheesing at the camera, but his eyes are locked on me.
There’s so much love in his gaze that even now, it damn near takes the breath right out of my lungs.
I can’t wait to marry him.
By early afternoon, it’s clear I was right. It’s a slow, boring day. I’ve spent half the morning cleaning and the other half responding to emails that I didn’t even need to respond to. I haven’t started any new projects with how close the wedding is, so there’s not really anything for me to do.
I get ready to leave, since there’s no point in hanging out here all day with nothing going on. Plus, the snow hasn’t let up, and there are easily three inches that have accumulated since this morning.
After shutting all the lights off, I pull my coat back on and begrudgingly slip the earmuffs over my ears.
The second the cold air hits my face, it forces a gasp from my lungs.
Holy fuck. I duck my head and make it three steps before I catch sight of something huddled against the building, half-covered in snow. What the fuck ?
I take a step closer, and my stomach drops out when I realize it’s a person.
I dart forward, not even thinking, and sink to my knees in the snow, shaking them almost violently in my fear that they may be dead. The human lump lets out a little whimper and jerks away from me, raising their hands to cover their head.
The motion is so achingly familiar that it makes my heart clench. “I’m sorry,” I say, trying to keep my voice low. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I won’t hurt you. Are you okay?”
The bundle shivers, and I can’t tell if it’s from fear or the cold. Most likely a combination of the two. But they don’t move from their protective stance, and they don’t speak. “Hey, I’m Roman. Can you please look at me?”
There’s a long pause, and then startling green eyes peek up at me from behind a curtain of greasy black hair.
My heart jumps into my throat as I take in the dark bruising around the kid’s—early teens if I had to guess—eye.
It’s not the only injury, but it’s definitely the most glaring.
The split lip with remnants of dried blood clinging to their chin is pretty damning as well.
“Hi,” I try again, even quieter than before. “What’s your name? ”
They don’t say a word. They simply keep their terrified eyes locked on mine. “You don’t have to talk. That’s okay, but can you come inside with me? It’s far too cold out here, and you’re covered in snow.”
They study me for a second, then slowly nod.
Relief washes over me and I hold my hand out.
When they take it, I help pull them to their feet and lead them back into the warm building.
Once we’re inside, I look at them a little closer.
The kid is a boy, probably no older than fifteen if I had to guess, and that’s generous.
I take him to one of the couches in the lounge area, and gesture to it. He sits down, toying nervously with the sleeves of his thin hoodie. “I’m going to go grab you something warm to drink and a couple of blankets, okay?”
He nods, eyes wide and still so fucking scared.
The second I’m out of sight, I lean against the wall and rub my chest, like it can stem the pain blooming there.
I started this non-profit to help kids just like him, but it never, ever gets easier to see kids like that.
Bruised and broken and fucking scared of the world.
Even with how rewarding this job is, there’s not a single way I could do it without talking to Alexis monthly. There’s no way I could handle seeing kids like me, dredging up bad memories, without my own past bringing me down .
Shaking off those thoughts, I peel myself off the wall and walk to the supply closet where we keep extra clothes and blankets.
I pull two down from the top shelf and head to the kitchen to make a cup of hot chocolate.
I use water, even though milk is better, since I’m not sure about any possible dairy allergies.
Once it’s heated in the microwave, I tear open a packet of the dairy-free hot chocolate mix we use.
When I get back into the lounge area, steaming hot chocolate in one hand and blankets in the other, the kid jumps out of his skin. I see my fair share of frightened kids, but he seems worse than most.
I approach him slowly and set the hot chocolate on the table in front of him, noting that his eyes are following each movement of my hands.
I start to wrap one of the blankets around his shoulders, but he flinches away from me and lets out a terrified little sound that shoots straight to my heart.
Stepping back as far as I can, I instead hold the blankets out toward him.
He takes them cautiously and wraps them around himself, damn near hiding his face behind the fluffy material.
I sit cross-legged on the floor, watching as he takes the hot chocolate off the table. “I didn’t make it with milk,” I murmur. “I didn’t know if you had any allergies. It’s way better with milk. ”
His gaze finds mine, so I offer him a little smile. He darts his eyes away again quickly and brings the cup to his lips, sighing with the first sip. “Pretty good, huh? Hot chocolate always makes me feel better on a cold day.”
He looks back down at me, nodding slightly. It feels like a damn victory, but I work hard to keep my face impassive. “Like I said, I’m Roman. Do you know where you are?” Another slight nod. “Awesome. How long have you been sitting outside?”
I’m not expecting an answer, but he clears his throat. “All day.”
Fuck. “I’m sorry to hear that. Why didn’t you come in? Do you know what we do here?”
His eyes drop to the mug in his hands and he nods. “My friend Liam came here. He said you were really nice, and you helped him get away from his mom.”
Liam. I remember him well. Rambunctious and full of life, but neglected by his drug-addicted mother. I helped him get placed in a foster home that has since adopted him, and the last time I checked in, he was thriving and happy. “Yeah? Liam’s a good kid. Do you know each other from school?”
“Yeah,” he whispers. “I’m Eli. ”
I smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Eli.” He doesn’t say anything to that, but that’s alright. He doesn’t have to. “Are you warming up?”
He nods again, bringing the cup back to his lips, and takes another sip.
We sit in silence for a while, and when he’s finished with his drink, he sets the empty mug down on the table and leans back against the couch, a faraway look in his eyes. “I was scared,” he says quietly after a long while.
I hum. “Scared of what?”
“Coming inside.”
Poor thing. “Yeah, it can be a little scary asking for help, huh?”
“Yeah,” he whispers, his voice rough and cracking a little.