Much Ado About You

Oh God, I couldn’t eat another—

Sticky toffee pudding.

The British bar back home had sticky toffee pudding on the menu. I’d bet my entire shorts collection that Dexter’s was yummier.

“Well?” Milly returned to me a few minutes later.

I made a face of distress. “I want the sticky toffee pudding and ice cream so bad, but I don’t think I’ll manage it.”

“Then why don’t we split one?” Roane suddenly appeared at my side, and I jerked with surprise. He smirked, those dark eyes twinkling mischievously.

Before I could speak and reprimand him for the fright, Milly said, “Excellent idea. And a table has opened up by the fireplace so you can sit there with Shadow.”

Glancing down, I found Shadow at his side and focused on the dog. Scratching his ears, I welcomed him warmly, laughing when he licked my wrist in response.

It was so much easier to focus on Shadow because the Roane before me differed from the Roane this morning. Sure, he still had the beard and wild thick hair, but now he wore a dark red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a pair of dark-wash jeans that didn’t have mud stains on them, and a pair of hiking boots instead of Wellingtons. I focused in on his strong tan forearms and shivered.

He smelled amazing. At first, I was hit with something musky, woodsy, like his cologne had a strong sandalwood base note. Then this overlying ocean scent drifted over me, layered with something citrusy. It was fresh and heady at the same time, and it made a woman want to nuzzle her face in his strong throat and run her fingers through the bristles of his beard.

Well, it made this woman want to.

“Is Shadow the only one you’re going to say hello to?”

Realizing I was being rude, I straightened and gave him what I hoped was a natural smile. “Hey.”

Roane grinned that boyish, wicked smile of his. “Hi. Let’s grab that table before someone else does.” He shot Milly a look. “Can I get a pint too, Milly?”

“I’ll bring it over with the pudding. Another cider, Evie?”

I nodded. A little fortification might be just the thing. Throwing off lingering exhaustion, I slid from the stool to follow Roane.

He looked over his shoulder to make sure I was behind him, and did a double take. His gaze dropped to my legs and slowly traveled back upward, and I swore I saw the crests of his cheeks redden before he looked away.

Ignoring my smugness, I studied the back of him and cursed our maker for creating men with such fine asses.

You’re objectifying the farmer, I scolded myself.

It was hard not to appreciate those wide shoulders, the tapered waist, and the way he moved through the tables with an easy, loose-limbed gait. Shadow trotted behind him, and they both drew admiring gazes.

Roane stopped at the lit fireplace and pulled out a chair, gesturing me to it.

I did not swoon at the gentlemanliness. I was merely light-headed from all the food and was forced to collapse quickly into the chair. The heat from the fire caused goose bumps on my arms and legs as Shadow sprawled out in front of the fireplace as if he’d done it many times before. Roane took the seat opposite me.

We were both so tall, our knees knocked together under the table.

The corner of his lips tipped upward as if this amused him. Those dark eyes studied my face as they had earlier today. I squirmed in my seat, hoping I didn’t have crumbs at the corners of my mouth. Or that he’d look lower to where my belly rolls were visible and particularly prominent after the fish and chips.

Are you listening to yourself?

Weren’t these the thoughts I’d tried to banish over the years? Was a stupid four-week social media encounter really going to screw with my self-esteem? And hadn’t I just repeatedly told myself that Roane Robson was off-limits? So what the hell did I care what he thought about my body?

I relaxed back in my chair, and Roane’s gaze automatically flickered downward.

He never got farther than my boobs. Visibly swallowing, he looked quickly away. There was a definite flush on the tops of his cheeks. “The place will quiet down in a bit.” His voice sounded extra rumbly, maybe even a little hoarse.

Hating how charmed I was that such a sexy man was flushing like a schoolboy, I picked up a menu from the table and started to fan my heated skin. “Is it always this busy?”

Roane’s gaze moved back to mine. “It gets busy April through October because it’s heavily advertised by Visit Northumberland—the tourist board.” He gestured to the room. “It usually quiets down around nine o’clock, leaving mostly locals.”

“Is your farm in Alnster?”

“Just outside.”

Before I could ask any more questions, Milly appeared with our drinks and was accompanied by a man the same height as her. He was a handsome bald man, with dark umber skin, lots of gray stubble on his cheeks and chin, and warm, laughing dark eyes. He wore chef whites. He placed a delicious-looking sticky toffee pudding and ice cream on the middle of the table along with a spoon for me and one for Roane.