Page 72 of Lease to Love

I leaned back against the couch and closed my eyes.

Then I heard my own voice again.

That's what I call her.

Sunshine.

I opened my eyes.

For the first time since this arrangement began, I wasn't entirely sure I believed my own explanation.

And that bothered me a hell of a lot more than it should have.

Chapter Nine

Summer

By the third week, I was starting to suspect my acting career had legs.

Three weeks of pretending to be in a relationship with Roman Sterling, and apparently I was getting pretty damn good at it.

Or maybe I was just getting good at pretending not to enjoy myself.

There was a difference.

Our first few outings were small enough that I could still convince myself they were strictly business.

A coffee run that somehow turned into Roman standing outside House of Autumn for forty minutes talking to three of my regular customers about their businesses.

A quick dinner after a community meeting where he'd stolen food off my plate twice and then had the audacity to complain that I ordered too much.

A Saturday morning walk through the neighborhood where we'd run into so many people I knew that Roman eventually asked if I had a secret twin.

I told him no. I had enough trouble keeping track of myself.

He'd laughed. Actually laughed. Not the little smirk he usually gave me when he thought I was being ridiculous, but a real laugh. I'd pretended not to notice, which was becoming a habit too.

Then there had been church.

Roman had actually kept his promise to Ms. Arlette. He'd shown up on Sunday morning in a navy suit and a face that suggested he was prepared to negotiate with God if necessary.

He’d taken one look at me before we went inside. “You're pouting.”

“I am not.”

I was.

“You look like somebody just told you church lasts four hours.”

“It might.”

“It doesn't.” He'd glanced toward the sanctuary doors. “Now stop pouting in front of Jesus.”

I'd looked him dead in the face. “You worry about not bursting into flames when you walk in there.”

He hadn't. In fact, Roman had stood beside me during praise and worship, singing along to The Presence of the Lord Is Here like he'd been doing it his entire life. He knew when to clap, when to stand, when to turn to his neighbor and say ‘amen.’ And when the collection plate came around, he dropped what looked suspiciously like a check with a whole lot of zeroes on it into the offering.

I hadn't asked. I didn't want to know.