Chapter 4

Four

Roman

He hadn't given Sam a lot of thought after leaving Book & Barrel the other night, so it surprised him—the little zap of happiness he felt—when he saw her behind the bar. He could chalk that up to not feeling a lot of happiness lately at all, but that wasn't exactly the case. Things in his life had gone straight to hell in an email—forget the hand basket—but Roman Ewing wouldn't describe himself as unhappy .

Maybe discontent at this time in his life. Grasping at straws. Learning to live again.

But no, not unhappy. He had finished the Jesse Vaux book last night. Feet up on the ottoman in his living room, in his new condo that his neither ex-wife nor his wayward daughter or even his son had never seen, he had sipped a tumbler of bourbon, finished the book, and watched the sunset through the front window. Probably, the sunset would have been even better had he been out on the balcony. But he had been too tired to move, and he was completely alone, so he didn't wallow in the guilt for not getting his ass up and walking across the room to step outside.

This morning, he was awake around dawn, but he lingered in his king-sized bed for a bit. Dozed off again. Scrolled news sites on his phone, but the news—global and national—was sometimes maddening, and Roman had decided when he moved to Love Beach, he was ready for change.

Why bother reading news apps that left him feeling helpless or angry? So, he had tossed his phone down, slipped out of bed, and dressed for a run. At home, before he moved here, he had been a runner. For his physical and mental health. Roman had run all the community races—the Reindeer Race, the New Year's Marathon, the Memorial Day Race for the Flag, though in recent years, it had all become more of an obligation to him than something he did for himself.

This morning, he ran on the beach. Started with a slow-paced walk, eyes scanning the heavy, low-hanging clouds. They screamed a warning of bad weather on the way. Back home—well, it wasn't anymore, though. Back in Missouri, in his former life, storms wreaked havoc, even if there was no wind or hail damage. He had forced Cathryn and Luca from his mind earlier, but they had clawed their way back into his thoughts.

With the ocean waves rolling in at his left, the sound as entrancing as the sight, he had finally been able to push all thought away and simply exist in the outdoors. Much later, drenched in sweat, he slowed and turned to make his way back home.

That thought had brought a contentment he hadn't felt in a long while.

He spent most of his day unpacking. It had been just over a month that he had lived in Love Beach, but he still had some boxes to empty, and he was still moving things from one space to another, trying to decide where he wanted everything to belong.

And now this. He could get used to spending his evenings at Book & Barrel.

Sam wore a pale blue blouse tonight. Her hair was pinned in a messy twist at the back of her head. So different from Cathryn. His ex-wife had been a fan of the tight, all-business bun. Well, until she had come unglued. Roman looked around the room and considered whether he wanted a table or just a seat at the bar. Nine tables were occupied tonight—most of them by young, hipster-looking couples—but a few by men who had a good twenty years on him.

He chose the bar. After all, he had plans to ask Sam if they had the next book in the Jesse Vaux series. It might be easier to talk to her if he was sitting closer to her. Her blue eyes found his as he made his way across the wooden floor and claimed a white leather covered stool.

"Hey." Her smile was as warm and welcoming as he remembered it. "Welcome back."

"Thank you." He nodded.

"What can I get you?"

"How about a cab?"

"Same thing as the other night? Or do you want to try something new?"

Roman rested his elbows on the bar and breathed deeply. "Something new."

Sam nodded, but she stared at him for a moment, lost in thought. When she did finally move, Roman watched her curiously. She stepped back and eyed a few bottles in front of her, but eventually, she turned and walked away from him down the bar. Noticing she was dressed in jeans again, Roman had that same spark of appreciation for the way she wore denim. She wore blue heeled sandals on her feet. Roman had been a family practice doctor for years. He'd had several middle-aged female patients complain about foot pain, often due to their footwear. He was well aware of the lengths a lot of women went to in order to feel confident and sexy. He'd had patients who did Botox. More than a handful of women who had asked for cosmetic surgery referrals—whether it be for facelifts, liposuction, or breast augmentation.

What he hadn't done in far too long was sit back and admire a woman as a man and not observe her as a doctor.

Sam stopped in front of an elaborate wine rack at the far end of the bar. She reached for a bottle, but stopped, frozen there with her hand in the air, and finally changed course to reach for something else. Roman was intrigued.

"What's she getting you?"

He hadn't seen the other woman approach him, but he turned now and offered her a friendly smile. It was the same woman Sam had pointed out the other night, the owner of the wine bar.

"I don't know." He shook his head.

"Ah. You're in for a treat," the woman said with a nod. "She's got good taste."

Before he could answer, Sam returned, bottle in hand and a smirk on her face.

"Yeah, but I started him off with the Chansonnier cab the other night. Not much room for improvement when you start with the best."

"Taste is subjective," the woman said to Sam, sounding as if she had most likely said the same words often.

Sam nodded as she cut the foil from the top of the bottle.

"Viv, this is Roman Ewing." She peeked up at them for a second and then worked the corkscrew into the corked bottle. "Roman, Vivian Harris, the owner of Book & Barrel."

"It's nice to meet you." Vivian reached to shake his hand. "I assume you're one of the retired doctors who just moved to the area."

"Correct." He nodded as they shook. "Nice to meet you, too."

"Are you in the country club area?"

"No." Roman offered her a self-deprecating smile. "I bought a condo on Breakwater Avenue."

"Not sure if you want to stay long, so a condo to test the waters?" Vivian asked him.

"Maybe." He shrugged. "More that it's just me. And I don't need a house with twenty rooms and a lawn the size of a football field."

Vivian chuckled. He braced himself for the questions about family, but Vivian didn't pry. Relieved, he turned his attention to Sam who was now pouring a splash of red wine in a glass. He took it when she offered it to him. The older woman leaned into the younger one to look at the label and then both of them watched him as he sipped.

He swallowed, eyes on the back bar now, as he savored the taste on his tongue. The Chansonnier Sam had poured him the other night was dry but bold and fruit forward. This one was dry, very smooth, and easy to drink.

"Good." He put his glass down with a nod.

"Booklore Vineyards," Sam told him.

"May I?" He reached for the bottle.

"Absolutely."

Their fingers brushed as he took the bottle from her. Roman flicked a glance at her, wondering if he had imagined the ping of electricity he felt at the touch. If she felt it, she hid it well.