“She epitomized every wife’s greatest fear,” Chase added.
“Speaking of Mom … I just want to make sure you two remember the deal. Either of you blow the whistle on this plan and snitch to Mom, and I’m on the first plane out of here, leaving you two to hold the bag. You got it?”
Rick let out a low growl. “You sure know how to take all the fun out of winning the coin toss.”
Roman never let his glare waver until Rick finally conceded. “Yeah, yeah. My lips are sealed.”
Chase shrugged. “Mine too, but you do realize she’s going to be forcing women down all three of our throats until Roman unveils the bride.”
“That’s the price you pay for being single,” Roman reminded them.
“Then we’d better get serious before Mom’s up and around town again. Marianne Diamond?” Chase asked.
“Engaged to Fred Aames,” Rick said.
“The fat kid everyone made fun of.” Fat Freddy, Roman remembered now with as much disgust for the nick-name as he’d had then.
“Except you. You beat up Luther Hampton for stealing his lunch and making fun of him. I was too proud of you to give a shit that you’d gotten suspended,” Chase recalled.
“So what’s Fred up to now?” Roman asked.
“Well, he’s not Fat Freddy anymore, that’s for sure,” Chase said.
“Well, good for him. Overweight’s unhealthy.”
“He followed in his old man’s footsteps. He’s got his own plumbing business. Everyone in town likes him and you started the trend.” Rick sucked down the last of his soda with a loud slurp.
Roman shrugged. “I can’t believe you two remembered that.”
“There’s other things I remember too,” Chase said, a combination of humor and seriousness in his big-brotherly gaze.
“Dinner, boys.” Izzy had arrived with their meals. The mouthwatering aromas of Norman’s burger and fries reminded Roman his stomach was empty. He snagged a fry before she’d had a chance to put the plate in front of him and popped it into his mouth. “My compliments to the chef. His staple items are the best.”
“Enough with the fancy words. Just make sure you finish what’s on your plate. That’s the only compliment Norman needs.” She said she’d be back with refills on the drinks, and disappeared once more.
“Now, where were we?” Chase asked.
Roman took a bite of his burger without waiting for Chase to finish with the ketchup. He chewed and swallowed.
“Discussing women.” Rick dove right into the topic at hand.
“But looks like you’re in for another reunion first,” Chase said before any of them could offer another candidate.
Roman turned in his seat and saw a woman walking down the aisle of the restaurant, a vision in a tangerine-colored skirt and low-necked tank, with lustrous black hair falling past her shoulders.
A rush of familiarity hit him in the gut at the same time Rick leaned close and whispered in his ear.
“Charlotte Bronson.”
The moment Roman focused on her face, he knew Rick was right. The warmth spreading through him made sense now, he thought, studying her. Her body was no longer a girl’s but that of a woman—lush, full, and oh-so-tempting. Her porcelain skin was still as radiant, her smile as vibrant, as he remembered, and the tug of a full-fledged grin pulled at his mouth. She’d always made him smile just by being in a room, and that hadn’t changed. But she had. More cosmopolitan clothes and a more confident stride, she’d obviously grown into herself.
His high school crush had become one hell of a beautiful woman. His mouth grew dry and beneath the table, he had an erection he’d never be able to hide. This woman always had the damnedest effect on him, Roman thought, and his pulse kicked into high gear as he waited for her to stop at his table.
All the while, Rick muttered in his ear, reminding Roman of why he’d hated having big brothers. “Five, four, three, two …”
And just when she’d have to stop and acknowledge him, she cut a sharp right turn and headed for the table where Beth had settled in to wait.
He groaned and turned back to face the firing squad he called his siblings.
“Looks like she’s going to make you work for it, little brother.”
Hadn’t she always?
Chase laughed. “Bet you’re not used to being ignored. It’s got to be hell on the ego.”
“Shut the hell up,” Roman muttered. He hadn’t forgotten that one night in high school. Though he’d always considered Charlotte the one that got away, he’d never forced the issue between them. It wasn’t that he was afraid of hard work or even another rejection. He’d always had the inclination to pursue her; he’d just never had the time.
Things had changed. Back for a prolonged stay, Roman was no longer content to let her deliberately ignore him. It was time to push the issue.
* * *
Roman had returned. Charlotte’s stomach churned; disbelief and shock rippled through her. Her initial glimpse through the store window and the hunch she’d tried to ignore hadn’t prepared her for the impact of seeing him again.
Damn the man anyway. No one had the ability to affect her the way he had. One look, and she felt like a hormonal teenager all over again.
The passage of time had affected his good looks—for the better. Age had defined him in incredible ways. His face was leaner, more chiseled, and, if possible, his eyes were a more striking shade of blue. She shook her head. She’d been too far away to know for sure—at first because she’d been in front of the restaurant, giving him time alone with Beth, and afterward because her palms were sweating and she was mortified she couldn’t regain her composure.
But Charlotte was certain one thing about Roman hadn’t changed—his reporter’s instincts. With one glance, he not only saw, he dissected. And she didn’t want him dissecting her.
“Your hands are shaking,” Beth said.
Charlotte took another hefty sip of the soda her friend had ordered for her. “It’s the caffeine.”
“I think it’s testosterone overload.”
Somehow Charlotte managed to keep from spitting her
