Page 34 of When in Rome

If she realizes I’m acting weird, fighting with every fiber of my being to keep my eyes from dropping to her chest, she doesn’t let on. She smiles brightly at me and then tosses the notepad I gave her this morning onto my lap. She turns to face me, pulling her legs up under her. A little too comfy there if you ask me. I want to putmy finger on her knee and slowly slide her to the opposite end of the couch.

“I finished it! The list,” she says, nodding toward the notepad in a hopeful tone.

I drag my eyes away from her beautiful face. (Shoot, not beautiful. Just…fine, it’s beautiful.)Look at the damn list.Just as I’m about to start reading, I notice a shiver race through her. “Cold?” I ask, a little too eagerly.

“Yeah. Does it feel like it just got supercold in here all of a sudden?”

I shrug with a light frown and then shoot from the couch to grab a plush blanket that was draped over the armchair. I bring it back with me, hug it around her shoulders, and then start wrapping it around her like plastic wrap, all the way up to her neck. She’s a human burrito. I give the overlapping corner one good yank to make sure she’s nice and snug and then I tuck it into the top (which is sitting just below her earlobes). Her eyes flare wide with disbelief because she can’t tell if I’m playing or not. I’m not playing. I made a homemade chastity blanket.

“Umm…thank you?” she says, close to laughing.

Feeling pretty secure now, I sit back down beside her, pick up the notebook. “Just trying to be hospitable.”

“Right. Mr. Hospitality. That’s definitely the title that comes to mind when I think of Noah Walker.” I cut my eyes to her head poking out the top of the plush burrito and it’s impossible to keep the smile from my face. She still looks too damn cute so I turn my eyes down and read her list.

1.Explore the town

2.Go fishing

3.Do something exciting

4.Play Scrabble

5.Teach me how to make Noah’s pancakes

“Play Scrabble?” I ask, lowering the list to look at her. She’s somehow managed to loosen the burrito and now has it loosely draped around her shoulders and open in the front like a normal person would wear a blanket. It doesn’t work for me at all.

“Yep.” She runs her fingers through her hair like a brush.

“You don’t need me to play Scrabble.”

“It would be boring to play by myself. I’d win for sure.”

I give her a derisive look. “What I mean is, you can play Scrabble anywhere. That’s not unique to our town.”

She pulls her feet out from under her and wraps her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest, and thank God, wraps that blanket all the way around her again. “Actually…I haven’t been able to find anyone back home who wants to play.”

I stare at Amelia’s soft face and downturned eyes as she pretends to pick at the red nail polish on her toenails, but I know she’s only avoiding eye contact because she’s embarrassed. A surge of protectiveness rams through my body and suddenly I want to hunt down anyone who has ever turned her down for a game of Scrabble and force them to play all night with her.And you’re going to smile and like it!What kind of asshole wouldn’t want to be friends with her? She’s sweet. Funny. Easygoing. Gorgeous. It’s unfathomable that she’s single.

“We’ll see,” I say, attempting to sound harsh and noncommittal even though we both know I’m going to do it. I read the list again. “Exciting, huh? What’s your definition of exciting?”

“Susan would say anything that could potentially break a bone, make me smile, or generally get my heart rate up at all.”

“Well, that takes sex with me off the table.” I wince the moment it’s out of my mouth. Her jaw drops. “I’m sorry…I meant it as a joke but my delivery is always too dry and—”

“Don’t be sorry!” Her face lights up with joy. “You joked! Mr. Classic Man just made a dirty joke and now I have to write it in my journal as the best day of my life.”

“I thought I was Mr. Hospitality?”

She pokes my cheek. “What other jokes do you have in there?”

I throw my body dramatically to the side like her strength knocked me over. “Geez, don’t be so rough.”

She’s shaking her head now, a wide smile on her mouth, eyes brimming with delight. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

I right myself and clear my throat. It’s time to get serious and quit playing around. Playing around leads to flirting. And flirting leads to trouble. “Back to your Susan. Did you tell her you’re staying in town longer?”

“Yes. And it did not go well.”