“My beagle Mick’s entitled to have free access to his home.” George Carlton, petitioner, rose to his feet, only to be jerked back down by his wife, Rose.
“Hush up, George. It’s not our turn to speak.”
“Go on,” a man on the board directed.
“We’re getting older and so’s Mick. Having to get up and down each time he needs to relieve himself is wearing on us.” She took her seat and folded her hands into her lap.
People were starving and being killed, but here in Yorkshire Falls, canine concerns ruled the day. Roman remembered that the itch to leave town had started during his apprenticeship with Chase, and had grown with each meeting he’d attended that had degenerated into petty arguments between neighbors with too much time on their hands.
Back then, Roman’s imagination had traveled a dual path in search of excitement, from foreign locales with more intriguing, fast-paced stories, to Charlotte Bronson, his crush. Now that he’d visited most of the places in his dreams, he had just one focus. His mind returned to Charlotte and the attraction he’d proven was mutual.
He’d intended to corner her, to make her admit to avoiding him tonight and find out why she’d ditched him in high school. He had a hunch, but wanted to hear it from Charlotte. He hadn’t intended to seduce and arouse them both. Not until he’d looked into those eyes and seen the same emotional connection sizzling in the depths.
Nothing had changed. She was glad to see him, no matter how she fought that truth. Then there was the fresh coat of glossy coral color on her full, pouty lips. No red-blooded man could resist. He’d inhaled her scent and nuzzled her soft, fragrant skin. He’d gotten close enough to tease but not satisfy.
Roman groaned, because though her body screamed, Take me—and he’d wanted to—her mind rebelled. And now he knew why. She’d finally given him a reason for rejecting him that he understood. One he’d suspected all along. We’ll have that date, all right. The day you decide to stay in town.
She wanted a home in Yorkshire Falls. She needed stability and security, to live happily ever after in the way everyone knew her parents never had. He’d been too young and rushed to see the truth before, but he understood it now. And that meant she was the last woman he could turn to with his agenda. He couldn’t hurt her, and that meant he needed to take a lesson from Charlotte and steer clear.
“Next.” A gavel banged against the wooden platform on the desk up front.
Roman jumped in his seat, startled. “Dammit, I missed the outcome,” he muttered. Because he was preoccupied with her. This time he’d only missed out on the doggy dilemma, but next time he could miss much more. And that was something he couldn’t let happen.
“Is that you, Chandler?”
Roman turned at the sound of his name to see a familiar-looking guy slip into the seat behind him.
“Fred Aames, remember me?” He stuck out his hand.
Chase and Rick hadn’t been kidding. Fred no longer resembled the kid everyone had bullied. “Hey, Fred, how are you?” Roman shook his hand.
“Couldn’t be better. How ’bout you? What are you doing back here?”
“I’m back in town for my mom; I’m here now for the Gazette.” Roman glanced forward. No one had introduced anything new for discussion yet.
“I heard about Raina’s hospital trip.” Fred ran a hand through his dark hair. “Man, I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“You covering for Ty?” He leaned forward and placed an arm behind Roman’s chair, nearly knocking him forward in the process. Fred had lost weight but not upper body strength. He was still one hell of a big guy.
Roman stifled a cough and nodded. “His wife went into labor and he couldn’t be in two places at once.”
“That’s nice of you. Besides, these meetings are as good a place as any to get caught up on what’s going on around here.”
“True enough.” If he paid attention, Roman thought. But he hadn’t a clue if Mick the beagle had been granted his freedom or locked behind closed doors for the duration of his doggy life.
The sound of a gavel hitting the table let them know the meeting had adjourned for a short recess. Roman rose and stretched in an attempt to wake himself up.
Fred stood, joining him. “Hey, you involved with anyone right now?”
Not yet. Roman shook his head, refusing to go that route with anyone but his brothers. “Not at the moment, why?”
Fred stepped closer. “Sally’s been eyeing you. I thought she had a thing for Chase, but now she’s locked in on you.” With a generous wave that made a mockery of his whisper, Fred gestured to where Sally Walker sat in her seat, tapping on her laptop for the county record.
Sally half raised her hand in salutation, a blush staining her cheeks.