The Last Hard Boy (The Hard Boys 3)

Rome sighed. “I know. Okay. I know.”

“You don’t think I can give you any hints on how to tell Andy you’re in love with her?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m a failure,” Rome said.

His father folded his arms and eased back in his chair. “A failure?”

“Yes.”

“And how do you figure that one out?” Theodore asked.

“I learn everything. I never have to ask for help. Books. Television. Education. It all has the answers. I know what I can do by researching it, practicing it, and implementing it.” Rome sighed. “I don’t know how to tell a woman I’m in love with her. Where do I learn that?”

“Son, not everything in life can be taught by a book.”

“It should!” Books had never failed him.

“Andy isn’t a book. She’s got her own feelings and thoughts. In life, you have to learn to understand people. It’s not a failure of any kind.”

“This is the one thing I should be good at. I was never great at sports. You had nothing to be proud of me about.”

“Nothing to be proud of you? Rome, you went to college. You’re a respected accountant. You’ve never been arrested, never done drugs. You are a good, honest, young man, and I am so damn proud of you. Do you have any idea how scary it is to have a child, children, and you know one day they’re going to go out into that shit world and get hurt?”

His dad pointed toward the window. “Life is cruel. It’s a hard world out there. Murderers, rapists, you name it, it’s full of bad people who do a lot of bad things. Every decision I made when you boys were growing up, I questioned. I even went through a stage when I thought I was going to breed murderers. You have all these crazy, questionable thoughts when you become a parent. Life isn’t easy. It never has been.”

“You made it seem so easy.”

“Practice, and your mother. She told me that all I had to do was be the best father I could be and hope you boys turned out great. I did that and I have three of the finest boys in the world.”

Rome smiled. He never knew his father had so many doubts about life, about everything.

“With Andy, you’re not going to get your answers from books. You’re going to have to ask her. To see if you both want the same things in life. You can fall in love with that woman, but if she doesn’t want you, you’ve got to learn to find someone who does.”

“I’m in love with her, Dad. There’s no one else.”

“And she’s scared, Son. I saw it. Your mother saw it.”

“It’s the ten years,” Rome said.

“She was also your teacher. People talk, Rome. You’ve got to show her and the town that she’s yours, and you’re going to keep her. Now, eat your cookie.”

Rome picked up his cookie and took a bite, closing his eyes as he did. “Mom makes the best cookies.”

“Yeah, she does. They help ease all worries.”

“Do you think Andy loves me?” Rome asked.

Theodore finished his cookie then licked his lips and took a sip of his coffee. “From what I saw on Sunday, yes, I think she does. I think it scares her how she feels about you. Take your time, Rome. Don’t rush this.”

“I don’t want to waste another moment.”

“Then live. Don’t waste anything, live it. Then you’re doing everything right.”

****

Andy stirred the sauce. The heavenly scents of onion, garlic, and oregano filled her house. She had the pot on to boil for the pasta. The moment it was ready, she was going to salt it and dump in the pasta.

Glancing at the clock, she saw Rome was due in ten minutes. The dining room table was set for two. She’d gotten some candles out, as well as a few of her fancy plates.

She’d called Rome during her afternoon break and asked if he wanted to have dinner at her place. He’d accepted. She didn’t even know why she had this overwhelming desire to cook for him.

Now, she wanted everything to be perfect.

She had already showered and changed out of her trouser suit into a dress that showed off every single curve.

The pot of water came to a boil, and she added in her favorite whole-grain spaghetti, and gave it a stir, bringing it back to a boil.

After reducing the heavenly-scented tomato sauce to a simmer, she gave it a taste, adding a few sprinkles of black pepper. It all smelled so good. She had some fresh basil to add in at the end.

With everything ready, she smiled. In the fridge was the chocolate mousse she’d already made.

Ten minutes later, the pasta was drained, dressed with the sauce, basil, and reserved cooking liquid. She served it into large bowls, carried it to the table, then poured them both some wine, which she returned to the fridge, and waited.