Zoya Hart has been eluding her gold-digging stepmother for the last few years. Knowing that this woman will do anything to gain control of her and her late father's company, Zoya finds herself hiding out on a farm. Now, with a PI on her trail, Zoya'...
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One pass through town showed everything Arcadia offered, everything centered on boat names and Noah's Ark.
Roman thought they'd gone overboard on the theme, but Charamel had claimed it made them unique. Yeah, uniquely nuts. He wheeled a U-turn and slid his bike into a spot near the entrance.
A small bell tinkled as he pushed open the door. There wasn't a clerk in sight, but someone yelled a greeting from the rear of the store. Roman strolled to the liquor section and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniel's. Before he could return to the front, a woman came around the corner and stopped in her tracks.
"Roman? When... what... how...?"
It took a second for him to recognize the dark-haired girl. "Mariana? Is that you? You've grown up." This was awkward. Did he hug her? Shake her hand? Pat her on the shoulder? Shit. It'd been so long since he'd seen someone he knew, especially a woman, he didn't know what to do. He waited for her to make a move.
She put her hand to her throat and drew a quick breath. "You, too. Did you get paroled?"
"No. I'm free and clear. Guilty party finally came forward."
She moved past him and stepped behind the counter. She remembered the devil-may-care Roman DeRoux of her childhood, but never thought it was him that burned Silver Crown Roadhouse down. She had been friends with Ophelia and knew he would never be so reckless when he had his sister to think of. She'd be hard pressed to find anyone who loved their sister as much as Roman did, even if it was the worst-kept family secret that Ophelia and Roman weren't full blooded siblings. "Just getting into town?"
"Got here last night." He set his purchase next to the register. "Give me a carton of Marlboros." He tried to remember the last time he'd seen her. She'd been just a teenager. Beautiful even then, she'd only improved. He glanced at her hand. No ring.
She laid the box next to the liquor and took Roman's money. "Oh. You've been to the house?"
He accepted his change. "Yeah. Had a surprise waiting for me."
"You met Zoya."
Before he could answer, someone interrupted.
Mariana looked over the new customer's shoulder and spoke to Roman. "I'm due for a break. Meet me out back at the picnic table."
He put the bottle in his saddlebag, moved the cycle around the building, lit a cigarette and took a long drag, then blew the smoke into the air. The breeze floated it into the bare limbs of a tall poplar tree. The mornings and evenings were chilly, but by noon each day, temps hovered in the low seventies.
A pair of birds flew to a nearby box nailed to a post. The male poked his head in the hole, then looked at the female. She fluttered to the fence wire and chattered. He went inside, joined her, then sailed back to the boat-shaped house again as if coaxing her inside. Roman shook his head. Damn bird couldn't get the female to go in the house and Roman couldn't get one to leave.
