Chapter 39
Palmer
You’re mine, Golden.
The words that came from Roman Ramsey’s mouth made my head spin.
I stared at him, relishing his hands holding me and the heat of his body sinking into mine.
Roman had been so busy this week. Not only was he working with his brothers and helping prepare for this very night, but he also had his position as fire chief to maintain. There wasn’t much free time left for each other, and what we did have was spent mostly in bed.
We hadn’t had the discussion of what Roman and I were. I hadn’t wanted to push it.
But now he was calling me his. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
He took my hand. “Come.”
He led me toward a small dance floor, where a few couples were swaying to the mellow music the DJ played.
A flutter of nerves raced through me. He really wanted to dance with me? I didn’t know how to dance.
My mind was scrambling for what to do when someone called my name.
I halted, pulling Roman to a stop, and he threw me an impatient look over his shoulder. He didn’t let go of my hand as I turned and found Stephen standing next to me.
His beard was trimmed and neater than usual, and he wore a nice button-down and black slacks.
I glanced around, nervous his wife, Kayla, was close, but I didn’t see her.
“Hey, Stephen,” I said cautiously. “How are you?”
He gave me a small smile, glancing up and down my dress quickly. “I’m good,” he said in a rush. “You look nice.”
“Thank you.” I grinned. “How’s Maverick?”
My heart did a little twinge, remembering the last time I’d seen him—how distraught he’d been, and the death glare Kayla had given me.
“That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.” Stephen adjusted his glasses. “I was able to talk Kayla into enrolling him at that nice school you recommended. He starts this spring.”
I stared at him blankly, thinking I’d misheard. My heart swelled.
“Are you serious?” I touched Stephen’s arm.
If Maverick was going to that school, they would know exactly how to help him excel.
Stephen’s cheeks reddened as he bobbed his head. “Uh, yeah.”
I was stunned. They had been so against it not long ago. So much so that they’d fired me. “What changed your mind?”
Stephen shifted on his feet, his eyes darting to Roman briefly before returning to me.
“Uh, someone finally talked me into it. We found out he got accepted a week ago. Kayla didn’t know I’d put in an application, but you were right, Palmer.
About everything. I think this is going to be the best thing for him, and Kayla sees that now, too.
” He grimaced. “Well, she’s coming around to it at least.”
Tears welled. I was so happy for that little boy. It was all I wanted for him.
“That’s great, Stephen. It really is.”
Stephen gave me another smile, but then Roman squeezed my hand and stepped closer to me.
“If you don’t mind,” he said, his voice low but kind, “we were just about to have a dance.”
Stephen straightened. “Oh, of course. I’ll see ya later, Palmer.”
With that, he walked away, disappearing into the crowded room.
I stared after him before turning to Roman, suspicion building in my mind.
Roman wasn’t looking at me. He tugged gently on my hand, leading me the rest of the way to the dance floor.
When his arms were back around me, pulling me close, he smiled. I looped my arms over his neck, and we swayed to the music.
His smile faltered the longer he studied me.
“What’s wrong?”
I bit my lip.
“Roman…” I began, feeling a little silly. I had no idea how Roman would even know about Maverick, but the way Stephen had glanced at him felt like it meant something.
I swallowed hard. “Did you contact Stephen by any chance?”
Roman’s hand tightened on my hip, and he sighed. “Maybe.”
My mouth fell open, and I froze. “How?” I croaked. “How did you even know about Maverick?”
His grip loosened, and he rubbed a hand soothingly up and down my lower spine. “I thought there was something off about Stephen when I called him for a reference before I hired you. Then Hailey might’ve mentioned something about you and her running into Maverick at the coffee shop.”
He shrugged like it was no big deal. But it was the biggest deal.
A rush of affection filled me, and I pulled Roman closer, holding him as tightly as I could.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He tensed before melting around me.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured, his voice warm against my ear.
I rested my head on Roman’s chest as we continued to sway. I breathed in the smoky cedarwood scent of him.
Part of me wanted to stay like this forever, wishing he would always hold me this tight. I listened to the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear. Wrapped in the warmth of his body, I found a deep, unshakable security in his presence.
My fingers curled around the back of his neck; they no longer needed bandages as the blisters on my palms were almost healed. My nails brushed lightly into his hair.
I smiled when the small shiver rippled through him.
Something I had learned over the last four days of sharing his bed was that Roman liked his hair played with. His entire body would relax when I ran my fingers through those dark strands. More than once, he had fallen asleep with his head resting on my chest as I did so.
“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.
My smile faded, though I didn’t lift my head yet. The pulse of his heart quickened.
“Nervous?”
“About tonight.”
Oh. Of course.
Tonight was the night they’d been planning for all week. The night his brothers—especially August—had been preparing for in one way or another for months.
“Should I be nervous?” I asked.
Roman’s fingers flexed on my hip.
“Everything’s in position?” he asked.
I nodded. His chest was so warm against my cheek.
“The team arrived shortly after you left. August seemed confident.”
“That’s good.”
There was a small pause.
“Are you nervous, Roman?”
“Yes.”
I lifted my head in surprise.
We didn’t stop our gentle swaying, but his eyes were locked on mine—the slate-blue burning with an intensity that had always made me feel both strong and fragile at the same time, like he believed I could handle the weight of the world, even when I wasn’t so sure I could.
“But I trust my brothers,” he continued.
I nodded. “And I trust you.”
Roman drew me in, his arm snaking around my waist and pulling me even closer.
“When this is all over,” he murmured in my ear, “when Amos Anderson is behind bars—or in the ground—and can never hurt anyone again…I want you to stay with me, Palmer.”
My breath caught.
“And not just as Hailey’s nanny,” he continued. “I want to be with you.”
My heart leapt straight into my throat.
A thousand thoughts rushed through my mind at once—but none of them really mattered. I already knew what I wanted.
“I want to be with you too.”
Roman let out a long breath like a sigh of relief, but didn’t loosen his hold on me.
We fell back into our dance, both of us savoring the feel of each other.
I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that—probably longer than we should have.
For a little while, we pretended the rest of the room didn’t exist. The music, the low murmur of voices, the tension hanging over the night—it all faded away inside the small bubble we’d created for ourselves.
It wasn’t until August appeared beside us that the moment finally broke.
“It’s time,” he said simply.
Roman and I stepped apart, though he didn’t let go of my hand.
When we were off the dance floor, August fixed me with a steady stare. “You ready for this?”
The second we walked out of this building, everything would be set into motion.
There had been a slight change to the plan in the last few days.
Instead of Roman staying at the bed-and-breakfast, they decided it would be more convincing to make it seem as though he had left me alone.
Once we returned to the Ramsey home, Roman would leave for the fire station, creating the illusion that he had been called in for an emergency.
We would be separated after this, and the thought sent a fresh wave of uncertainty through me. But I pushed it down and nodded. “I’m ready.”
August grinned before glancing at Roman. “See you later, brother.”
Roman’s shoulders tensed. “Stay safe.”
August rolled his eyes. “That’s my job.”
As Roman and I made our way toward the exit, we stopped to check in with the rest of the Ramsey brothers. They would stay at the fundraiser, visible in the crowd, while Roman and I returned alone to the bed-and-breakfast.
At least, that’s how it would appear.
Roman grabbed my coat from the coat check when we reached the entryway of the community center. He held it open for me, but frowned as his thumb brushed over a freshly stitched seam on the inside of the silk lining.
“What happened?” He inspected the crude seam that had not been there before.
The coat was brand new. Roman had given it to me himself, and I knew it had to have been expensive. I shrugged awkwardly, guilt twisting in my stomach.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I noticed a small tear earlier this week. I know my hand stitching isn’t the best, but I tried. The bandages didn’t make it easier.”
Roman studied the seam for another moment, his brow furrowed. Then he shook his head and helped me slip the coat on.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “We should get this show on the road.”