Page 17 of Lease to Love

Roman turned toward the door.

I felt my shoulders loosen almost immediately.

His hand was on the handle when he stopped for some reason.

“Summer.”

“What?”

He glanced back at me over his shoulder.

He took a second before speaking, and when he did, his voice came out quieter.

Not warm. Roman Sterling didn’t do warm. But less harsh.

“I’m not your enemy.”

The sentence hung between us and for a moment, neither of us moved.

Then the bell above the door chimed, and he was gone.

I walked to the front window and watched him cross the sidewalk toward his black Bentley.

Mrs. Keys next door was taking out her trash, and Roman gave her a curt but polite head nod.

She looked at him like he smelled like shit.

I snorted.

Same, Mrs. Keys.

Same.

His engine turned over, and the Bentley pulled away from the curb, disappearing around the corner.

I stood there for another few seconds, staring at the empty street as his parting words echoed in the silence of the shop.

“If you’re not my enemy,” I said out loud, finally letting the air rush out of my lungs, “you have an ass-backwards way of showing it.”

My shoulders slumped. My spine finally relaxed.

Even the muscles between my eyebrows seemed grateful to be released from the workout I’d apparently put them through.

Five minutes with Roman Sterling, and the frown muscles I never used were exhausted.

I wanted my damn bed.

Nine days.

I could figure it out.

I always figured it out.

And then I’d be free from Roman Sterling’s presence until spring.

Chapter Three

Roman