ROMAN (Lane Brothers Book 5) (10 page)

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Authors: Kristina Weaver

BOOK: ROMAN (Lane Brothers Book 5)
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“Shut up.”

“No, you shut up, you dumb shit. Go to sleep. You’re gonna need it before Ma gets hold of you. That woman is not impressed with you right now. Not one bit,” he says, closing his eyes again.

I close mine, too, and allow my mind to drift because all I can do is focus on healing before I decide what to do about my life.

Melissa is my woman. I just need to find a way to make her see that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

Melissa

“Stop hovering, Lon!”

I am currently doing my best not to shoot these men as I polish glasses behind the bar and pretend that my life doesn’t suck big old donkey nuts. All day long I have men around me acting like mother hens.

“Don’t lift that.”

“Don’t climb that stool.”

“Dr. Oz was saying how organic food is the best.”

And my personal favorite.
“Aren’t you worried that caffeine could harm your baby?”

I drink decaf and then only a half a cup because I am paranoid about this pregnancy.

They’re killing me with their hovering. Then again, I killed part of myself when I broke things off with Roman.

For God’s sake, I should have waited until after he got out of the hospital before ending things. It’s just that I was so mad when I stood outside that hospital room and heard the way him and Jim were talking as if none of what he’d done was enough.

Thank God that Ma and the family come by to visit me daily and I get some companionship at work. Otherwise I would have broken weeks ago and gone to see him.

It seems all I do now is threaten people. I can’t help that they’re all a bunch of assholes.

“Mel, darlin’, you crying again?” Will snarls and I sniff so loudly that I see them all grimace and shudder.

“No! Leave me alone, William Sparrow, or I swear to God I’ll spray your ass with lead.”

I keep polishing glasses and do my best to ignore them all staring and grumbling at me as if I’m too
pregnant
to
hear
properly anymore. A few minutes pass this way before I hear a chair scraping softly against the scarred wooden floor.

“Hey, darlin’, you still crying or can I come over there to get myself a beer?”

“I said I’m
not crying
so shut your mouth and
ask
for a beer. There’s nothing wrong with my hands, brain, or ears, Will, so stop treating me as if there is.”

Ma still tells me about Roman’s progress at every visit, and I’m happy to hear that his eye wasn’t permanently damaged and his leg healed well enough that he should be able to start physical therapy soon.

A set of strong arms comes around me and I swear I feel every wall I have just built crumple and fall at my feet.

“That’s okay, darlin’, you cry all you need. I got you,” he croons, turning me and pushing my face into the muscled contours of his chest. “You done good keeping it all in this long, but it ain’t good for you and it ain’t good for my godson.”

I keep crying till I have nothing left. When I finally sigh and push away, it’s to see the bar clear of all patrons but for Lon and Will. Even poor Milton is gone.

“You feel better?”

“No. I feel worse. And better. And worse. It comes and goes as fast as the next breath,” I mumble, blushing at the thought of them seeing me this exposed.

Will grins at my ornery tone and pulls me into a chair while Lonnie goes for a glass of milk and the stash of chocolate chip cookies that I hide under the bar.

“Spill it, kid. What’s eating you?”

“Nothing.”

“Jesus, is this about Lane? Because I swear if he’s bothering you—”

“He isn’t, Will. He’s at home right where he should be, healing and staying away like I asked him to. He’s done nothing.”

And that’s the problem.

“Ah, I see.” Lonnie sighs, making me clench my jaw when he chuckles and throws me a commiserating look that chaps my fine ass.

“Lon—”

“Nah, I know what this is all about. You still love that man and you went and kicked his ass to the curb because you think it’s easier to lose now than lose later, huh?”

I really hate that Will and Lonnie are addicted to that damned quack on TV, because for rough and tough bikers they’re way too in touch with their feelings. And mine.

“Lonnie, mind your own damn business and stop yapping about stuff you have no clue about, okay? I’m not regretting a damn thing. Roman’s a good man, and I love him, but he’s not right for me.”

Will leans back in his chair and plants his boots on the table and crosses his ankles.

I know that look and I am not fooled by his blasé attitude one bit. He does that same thing Miah does when he wants answers.

“It’s the hormones, right?” he muses and I grit my teeth.

He did this very same thing last Friday, and when I screamed
no
at him he got all cocky and started yammering about how if it isn’t my hormones, it must be something else.

As if I don’t know what he’s saying.

“Guys, I’m fine. I just get a little emotional sometimes, but the doctor said it was normal and I shouldn’t stress about it. Now get those people back in here so I can go back to work. Oh, and thanks for the cookies,” I throw over my shoulder, laughing at Will’s blush because I know the man has been adding to my stash even though he bitches about preservatives and salt content all the time.

A half hour later I’m all better and just about ready to face people again.

At least, I
was
ready to face people again, until I turn around and my eyes meet the very ones I’ve been dying to see for six weeks now. I feel all those pesky emotions come rushing back to the forefront.

I’m giddy and nervous and terrified all at once, and yet so happy to see him that I stand staring like a goober for a good minute before I can find my brain.

“Roman?”

His lips tilt up in a smile and I have to bite my tongue to stop the thing from rolling to my feet when his eyes do a slow, thorough pass over my body and come back up to my face.

“Hey, baby girl. You look good. Ma says you’re over the morning sickness?”

He wants to talk about me puking? Fine, if that’s his speed these days, I am so there as long as he keeps talking and I can keep smelling his expensive cologne.

“Uh, yea. I’m puke free as of five days ago. I can even eat chocolate now,” I stammer, swallowing again when he grins and bites his lip. “Er, so, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home recovering or something?”

“Nah. The doc cleared me for physical therapy but the damn leg is working just fine after Miah got me back in the gym. I’m good. All healed up and ready,” he mumbles, looking around at nothing before turning back to me with a smile that looks forced and…shy?

Roman Lane has never been shy a day in his life, and I doubt he’s all of a sudden picked up the quality.

“Why are you staring at me that way, Lane?” I ask, narrowing my eyes when he just grins and continues to hold my gaze.

“Did I ever tell you that I fell in love with you the minute I saw you, Melissa Dobson?”

That gets my usual sarcastic snort and I hand him a beer and grab a water before hopping onto my stool and giving him a look that says back the hell off.

“You mean when you scoped me out and decided I was a good way to get into the Patriots? Why no, you never said. That sure is
romantic,
though, falling for me before you decided I was a handy pawn. Why, I can’t believe you’re this sensitive and poetic,” I snap, wanting to bite my tongue the moment the words fall out.

Roman blanches and looks away before I see his lips twitch when Will throws him a thumbs-up from across the room.

“I mean, the
first
time I saw you. You were coming out of the station and one of the guys gave you lip about your ass. You remember what you said?”

I shake my head and lean forward, enraptured now because the man is smiling so wide, his teeth are all I see.

“You clocked him good and told him to go eat a bag of—”

“Okay, I remember. Sheesh. God, Lane, you know how weird it is that you fell for me after seeing me hit a man?” I ask.

I’m smiling inside, though, because I recall hearing a deep laugh and what sounded like clapping, but I never did see the eyewitness to my felony. Now that I know it was Roman, I think I’ll remember that day till the day I die.

“Not weird. You see, I knew then that you weren’t one of those women who play games and I respect that. I can say or do anything and you’ll never stand back and let it slide. You’ll give me shit right away and dare me to argue. I love that about you, because I know exactly where I stand.”

That stops my inner bitch from ranting and I look at him again, wanting to know why that’s so important. Most men are happy with attractiveness and a good body, and some are okay with just a good sense of humor.

Apparently my guy likes honesty above it all, though I will humbly admit that my looks are a definite bonus because I’m sure not ugly.

“I’d like to tell you why it’s so important to me, Mel, but it’s not a story I feel comfortable sharing in public. Would you have dinner with me and listen? I think if we get to talking again, we can actually be friends like you wanted to be.”

“Er, uh, sure. I can cook something for us, or did you want us to eat at your parents’ place?” I ask, wondering what I can possibly give him to trump the masterpieces Jude and Ellie come up with.

“I’ll let Ma make us something and bring it over. You’re tired enough as it is. You don’t have to cook me a meal on top of everything else you do, baby girl. Uh, tonight?” he asks uncertainly and I feel my heart crumble with disappointment.

“I can’t. Uncle Jim is scheduled to video call me and the man talks my ear off whenever he gets the chance.”

“You still making him grovel, Mel baby?”

“Just a little. I got him to stop being such a freaking bigot and he actually donated a good amount of money to a charity for disadvantaged minority kids. So…”

“You’re milking him with guilt?” He laughs, making me blush.

“You know it. How about tomorrow? I get home early, round five,” I say shyly, feeling awkward suddenly and for no other reason than this all feels new and nothing like what we had before.

“That’s great, baby girl,” he says, standing with a grimace and looking so lost for a moment, it breaks my heart. “Can a friend kiss a friend?”

Please do
.

“Sure.”

My eyes are closed and my lips are puckered so fast, I almost scream when his lips touch my cheek and linger for the briefest moment before he pulls away and grins down at me.

“See you tomorrow.”

“I’ll see ya tomorrow,” I echo, staring at the door after he walks out with only the slightest limp.

Will and Lonnie at least have the decency to keep themselves in check for ten whole seconds before they’re making smooching noises.

“Y’all want toilet water in your beer this time, fellas?”

They shut up immediately and I spend the rest of my day with a stupid grin plastered all over my silly face.

I smile all day and am still smiling when I get home and find Miah sitting on my doorstep with a box of chocolate.

“Hi?”

He blushes and looks away before grinning down at the ground and meeting my confused gaze.

“Hey, Mellie. Can a brother come in and chew your ear off for a minute or two?”

“Okay? I guess. If that chocolate’s for me and not just you.” I laugh, unlocking the door and ushering him in with a wave.

We get all the way through a few pleasantries and I’m on my second block of chocolate bliss when he finally loses patience and gets to the point.

“Please tell me he came into the bar today and didn’t chicken out again.”

His words throw me for a minute before I register what he’s actually saying.

“He came in, Miah.”

I’m smiling even as I say it.

“That’s good. Good.” Miah laughs and it transforms his face to the point where I see Roman in him.

“Are you here to tell me what a bitch I am and that I should give him a chance? Or are you here to look at me with recrimination and ask why I didn’t wait to break things off?”

Roman and I spoke a lot when we were together, and the one thing that he told me, with a lot of glee, was that he was closer to Miah than he was to any of his brothers.

I know that they have always been inseparable, and that he views the guy as his best friend. The Miah I see before me, without all the stress and anger, is exactly the guy Roman described to me. I love knowing that they’re all finally able to be themselves once again.

“No, Mellie. No. I’m here to talk to you and make sure that you keep Roman at arm’s length. See, I love my brother, and there’s nothing I would not do for the man. But he can be an idiot sometimes, and when I see it, I call it.”

“You think he’s being an idiot? Why?” I ask, going to the open kitchen to make us both some tea because it seems as if this is going to be a little more than a few minutes of shooting the shit.

“Well, for one, he put you in danger to get what he wanted, and I am not down with that. I never was. When a man loves his woman he would never do something like that.”

I don’t want to hear this. I want him to sit here and tell me that Roman and I belong together and that I should give him another shot.

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