“Who knew bruised ribs could be a good thing.” He glanced down at their linked hands. “Telling Alice about the baby probably helped, too.”
“Abby did say that put the color back in her grandmother’s face. Did you call your mom to let her know?”
“I did.” Roman nodded. “They have a spare room that isn’t being used, so she’s going to stay there for the night. She’s fixing dinner for them.”
Frankie sighed, shook her head. “Took us a while, but we found a distraction for her.” She grinned at him, but not for the first time that evening, he seemed to be the distracted one. “Roman?” She tugged him to a stop in front of the old town saloon that had been, until recently, the mayor’s temporary office. She saw lights in the second story and resisted the urge to go in and give Gil a piece of her mind about his plans to close the station house.
But she wouldn’t. Not tonight. Not when she’d finally given herself permission to take a chance on Roman. On them. “Hey.” She squeezed his hand. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been kind of out of it all night. And you didn’t say anything about the fact this is the first time you’ve seen me in a dress.” Their date had given her the opportunity she’d been waiting for to wear the snug turquoise wraparound that had been burning a hole in her closet since she’d bought it. That, along with the strappy sandals and her loose hair should have knocked him off his feet. Instead, he’d simply smiled and nodded.
“Probably because you’ve robbed me of words tonight.”
Frankie rolled her eyes. “Try again. What’s going on?” she prodded. “This isn’t the Roman I expected to be with tonight so close to Christmas. Speaking of which, you do know your mother’s planning to host that whole Feast of the Seven Fishes at the station house tomorrow night, right?”
“She told me. Can we sit?” He motioned across the street. “Maybe just look at the lights for a bit?”
“Sure.” The anticipation that had been building throughout their dinner at the Flutterby faded, replaced by an unease she couldn’t quite explain. They took a seat on the stone wall separating the beach from the road. The cold stone made her shiver, and she drew her sweater tighter around her, scooted closer to him for warmth as he set his crutches aside. “How bad is it?” She tried to focus her attention on the myriad of lights outlining the shop windows, twinkling and sparkling against the shimmering red-and-white candy canes hoisted onto the lampposts that were wrapped with greenery.
“How bad is what?” he asked.
“Whatever’s on your mind.” She brushed the hair back from his eyes. “What’s got you so down? Is it Alice? Your mom? I know you’re missing your dad—”
“I got the job.” He cringed as he said it, as if he’d just swallowed a vial of poison. “The federal investigator’s job. Their first choice fell through, so they offered it to me.”
Frankie’s stomach dropped. “Oh.” Her throat tightened. “Well, that’s great, isn’t it?” She pulled her hands into her lap, twisting them together so hard her fingers went numb. “That’s what you want. And even sooner than the six months.”
“I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”
“Why not?” She pushed the question free despite wanting to stay silent. “Roman, this is what you’ve wanted. It’s what you’ve worked for. It’s right there for the taking. Of course you’re going to take it.”
He frowned, finally looking at her, but not with the expression she expected. “There’s no of course, Frankie. What about this? What about us?”
She shrugged. “What about us? We’ve had one dinner, Roman. And okay, yeah, there’s definite chemistry between us, but we haven’t taken any vows. You need to do this.” That was all there was to it. He needed to take the job. He needed to leave. Even though everything inside her wanted to scream at him to stay.
“Frankie, we need to talk about this. Without the sarcasm, if you don’t mind. We need to be honest with each other.”
“I am being honest.” She swallowed hard. Or as hard as her tightened throat would allow. “You’ve been given a chance at your dream. I’m not going to stand in your way.”
“What if I want you to stand in my way? What if I want you to tell me not to take it?” He turned and held her hands. “Tell me not to go, Frankie.”
She couldn’t stop the tears from forming in her eyes. But she could stop them from falling.