“Thank you,” is all I can manage through the somersaulting heart in my chest.
Rowan settles one hip on my desk. He watches in silence while I tear open several packets. My gaze flicks to his every few seconds, met by an expression I can’t read. Something curious. Soft but persistent.
Then he reaches out, runs a finger over the silver cuff on my wrist. His throat bobs before his eyes lift again, shadowed under the brim of his hat. My breath catches. His finger never loses contact even as I lower my arm to the desk.
With a light tap to the bracelet, he says, “You okay?”
I slide my arm out from under his, focusing back on my lunch. “I’m fine.”
A million questions flicker across his face. He wants to press, but he doesn’t. Instead, he looks out the window, sighing long, before settling his attention back on me.
“Where’s yours?” I ask when I realize there was nothing in the bag for him.
“Not hungry.”
I inhale the last of the hot dog and cover my mouth with a napkin as I swallow it down, a poor disguise for the effect this taut line between us has on me. We’ve both flirted, yet we’ve both acknowledged we’re not sure we should. For him, I’m sure it’s because of what happened last night. He’s too noble to take advantage if he suspects I might be vulnerable. Honorable, but as I’ve already told him—and everyone else, for that matter—I’m fine.
And me, well…I don’t even know why he’s here. I mean, in all reality, I can deduce why. Though a certain Golden Boy should have called to give me a heads up. I’ll give him an ear full when I see him on Sunday.
Guilt washes over me at the realization I never asked Rowan anything about himself in our entire conversation last night. I wince at the thought.
“So,” I say, crumpling the napkin and stuffing it into the bag. “I feel bad for not asking sooner, but what brings you back to Boulder?”
His lips twitch so quick I wonder if I missed it. A rough hand drags through the hair under his hat before he fixes it back on his head.
“You were a bit preoccupied last night. You have no reason to feel bad. But to answer your question…” He pauses, shifts on his hip. “I’m here to take care of my grandfather’s affairs. He passed away last week.”
My heart lurches and I slap a hand over my mouth. Rowan watches in confusion for long seconds while I try to collect my breath and my thoughts long enough to respond.
Tears cloud my vision as I suck in a rush of air. “What?”
A sharp line forms across his forehead. “He had a heart attack. Last week. Hannah, are you okay?”
No, I’m not.I hide my face in my hands. Rowan’s crouched down beside me now, smooth palm running over my spine as I cry.
“Hannah?” he pleads, voice soft. “You need to catch me up here.”
With a loud sniff, I drop my arms and twist my chair to face him. “But I just—” I take in a shuddering breath. “I just saw him.” Rowan’s face blurs at the edges through my wet lashes. “He was fine. I promise you, he was fine.”
“Hannah.” My name is an exhale, thumb sweeping over my cheeks, one and then the other. “You saw him?”
I nod.
“When?”
My eyes drift shut. The confession spills out on a whisper. “All the time.”
When I meet his gaze again, he’s a statue. Slacked jaw. Shallow rises of his chest. “I need you to say more words, Hannah.”
I bob my head repeatedly. “Yeah, um…” I swipe the back of my hand under my nose, sniffing hard. He reaches for a tissue off my desk and hands it to me. “I sort of kept in touch with him after…last time…after that night.”
“You—you did?”
“Yeah, I played chess with him and the other Golden Boys at the VFW a few times a month.”
He barks a husky laugh, and the noose around my heart begins to loosen. They’re so alike, he and Norm. Quiet strength. Words few but mighty when they land. Same deep eyes that are never not searching, checking for danger. And a laugh so full you feel the vibrations in your own chest.
The sound settles into a soft hum. An ache creeps in. There’s this one smile line high up on Rowan’s left cheek I hadn’t noticed before. Norm had it, too. He didn’t smile much, but when he did that line would split his face and you just knew you were witnessing something not everyone gets the privilege of seeing.