Moment of Weakness (Embracing Moments Book 1) (12 page)

A painful tightness clawed at my throat. “Who are you, Roman?” I asked, shaking my head. “Or should I even call you that, Michael?”

His eyes widened. “What?” He ran his hand along his jaw and let out a small sigh. “My name is Michael Roman Hayes. Roman is my middle name. Is this seriously what this is about?” he questioned, shaking his head in disbelief. It’s amazing how you can learn someone’s moods in such a short time of knowing them. Roman was clearly irritated.

“No. You don’t get to be mad,” I said, pushing my pointer finger against his hard chest. “I’m expected to be around you, to
trust
you, and yet I don’t even know something as simple as your first name?” I sighed, trying to ease the heavy feeling in my chest. “You know everything about me, Roman.
Everything.
And until a few seconds ago, I didn’t even know your real name. How is that fair?”

He was the one looking away now.

“I just want to get to know you, Roman. What’s so wrong with that?” I waited for what felt like an eternity to see if he had anything to say, but he didn’t. No surprise there. “You know what . . . forget it.” I threw my hands down in frustration. “Let’s just go home.” I reached down to grab my keys from my purse. The loud sound of his hand slapping against the roof of my car caused me to flinch. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

“You want to get to know me, Miss Parker. I’m here!” He dropped his arms down to his sides and stepped back. His eyes were a deep shade of green, and he stared at me full of disappointment. “Get to know me, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Placing his hands back into his pockets, he kicked a stone across the parking lot as he turned and walked toward the entrance, leaving me alone at my car. I closed my eyes and dropped my head back against my car door. Why did I suddenly feel like the bad guy?

Was it wrong to just want to know him? The truth was, he knew
everything
about me. My entire life history stuffed into a computer file, easily accessible with the click of a mouse. It was the same file given to all of my personal security guards. Anything Roman wanted to know about me was right at his fingertips. I stood staring up at the sky, contemplating on whether I should just get back into my car or join Roman at the door. My gaze shifted over to the entrance. He was standing there, leaning against the gray concrete wall, hands in his pockets like always, staring at me.

Dammit, Roman.

Pushing off my car door, I hooked my thumbs in my back pockets and walked toward the entrance. Roman’s eyes lingered on me as I crossed the parking lot. His jaw was tight, and his face was vacant of any readable emotion. He stood up straight as I approached him.

“I’m hungry,” I mumbled, shrugging my shoulders as I walked past him. A low sound that sounded like a grunt and a laugh came from his mouth.

“You never cease to amaze me, Miss Parker,” he said, grabbing the door handle to the entrance and holding it open for me. I didn’t know if I should take that as an insult or compliment, but I strode past him without saying a word.

THE PARK BUSTLED
with families, first dates, and teenagers who had nothing better to do. Weaving my way through the crowd, I looked for the closest food court. My stomach made some awful gurgling noises, and I decided I’d settle on the first thing I could find. Walking up to the counter, I grabbed a menu from the pile and scanned it over. Roman stood behind me, looking over my shoulder so he could do the same. Once we figured out what we wanted, we ordered and waited for our food. A couple minutes passed, and then Roman turned toward me.

“You’re right,” he said, looking at me. “I know a lot about you, but that doesn’t—”

Our order number came across the loudspeaker indicating our food was ready. Roman snapped his mouth shut and grabbed the tray from the counter. We both glanced around trying to find an empty seat. They were all filled, but then an elderly couple stood up and walked away from the table they had been sitting at.

Roman placed the orange tray down on the table between us as we both sat down. Grabbing my corndog from the tray, I drizzled ketchup and mustard on top of it. Roman unwrapped the aluminum foil from his cheeseburger and did the same. My mouth watered, and I was seconds from tasting cornbread and hot dog when Roman spoke.

“You’re my first assignment.”

My mouth hung open at his admission. Well, that explained his lack of social skills. My stomach growled as if it knew I was seconds from feeding it, so I took a bite. Awkward silence stung the air as we sat there and ate. Here I was, wanting to know more about him, and yet I couldn’t come up with one good question I knew he wouldn’t avoid.

“So your birthday is in two weeks. Do you have any plans?” he asked, taking a bite of his cheeseburger.

I took a sip of my Diet Coke, hoping it would help eliminate the dryness of my mouth. “Nothing yet. But I’m sure Lacey has something up her sleeve.”

Roman stared at me. “You’re turning twenty-one, right?”

I nodded. “So what do you do when you’re not on an assignment?”

“You mean, what I do in my free time?” he asked, wiping his hands on a napkin.

“Yeah.”

“It’s rare that I have free time, Miss Parker, but when I do, I work out, run, and get some practice in at the shooting range.”

Images of Roman all hot and sweaty lifting weights flashed through my mind. Maybe this whole questioning thing wasn’t such a good idea.

“Why didn’t you go to Europe?” His voice cut off my thoughts.

I looked over at him shocked. Of all the questions he could have asked, it had to be that one. I waited a moment, debating on whether or not I wanted to even tell him. Sighing, I fiddled with the aluminum wrapper still on the table. “I came home to find my boyfriend screwing my best friend.”

Roman winced. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

I lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “I’m not. We were all supposed to spend the summer in Europe. There was no way I was going after walking in on that. So, I packed what I could fit in my suitcase and came home.”

“The guy from the train station. That was your boyfriend?” he asked, curiosity in his voice. I nodded, swallowing the last bite of my corndog. His eyebrows gathered. “Wow, now I’m regretting not hitting him.”

“I’d rather not talk about it.” And I didn’t. Just thinking about Robby and how he acted that day had anger coursing through me. There was no way I would allow him to ruin my evening.

“I know my opinion doesn’t matter, but for what it’s worth, he didn’t deserve you.”

My breath hitched. Of course, his opinion mattered. I didn’t know why, but it did. It had ever since that day. It was why I had attempted to talk to him in the car afterward.

“Thanks,” I said, dousing my French fries with vinegar. Besides the loud screaming of the toddler next to us, all was quiet as I dug through my fries. Picking up a super crispy one, I popped it in my mouth.

“What are you doing?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Searching for the extra crispy ones.” Amusement danced across his face, and he let out a deep throaty laugh. The sound of it washed tingles over my skin. “So where do you go at night?” I asked, regretting it the second it rolled off my tongue.

His brows narrowed. “Where do I go at night? I go home. Where else would I go, Miss Parker?” He eyed me quizzically.

“I don’t know. Your girlfriend’s house,” I said, taking another sip of my Diet Coke. He cocked his head to the side, and his fingers traced circles around the rim of his soda cup. I instantly remembered what it felt like having him do that against my skin.

“Is that your way of asking me if I have a girlfriend?”

I choked on my soda. This was
so
not where I intended this conversation to go. I grabbed the empty tray and stood up, looking around for the nearest trash can. When I spotted one, I attempted to walk toward it, but Roman’s hand circled around my wrist, rooting me in place.

“I don’t,” he said, his voice deep and soft.

“Don’t what, Roman?” I asked, not looking at him. Even though I asked, I hoped he wouldn’t answer. I knew perfectly well what he was talking about. But I knew hearing him say it would have my nerves in a tangled mess, because that would mean there was a possibility for more. I tried pushing that thought aside. I shouldn’t want more. I couldn’t want more. There would never be
more.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

He said it.

The one little line that had every nerve in my body tingling. He let go of my wrist, and I walked away. Still feeling the ring of heat encircling my wrist from his hand, I emptied the tray and set it on top on the bin. I waited there for a minute trying to regain my composure. There was no need to walk back to the table, because a moment later, Roman stood up and joined me.

“Do you want to play some games?” he asked, looking unsure.

“Sure.” I smiled and I swear he looked like a little kid in a candy shop. A large grin appeared on his face as he led the way out of the food court. We walked up to a basketball game, and he handed the lady some cash. He totally sucked, missing every single throw. I stood back with my hand clamped over my mouth, trying to stifle my incessant giggling.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, grinning at me.

“Nothing, you shoot like a girl.”

His eyes widened. “I shoot like a girl?”

I nodded. “Actually, I’m sure there are girls that shoot better than you.”

“We’ll see about that, Miss Parker,” he said, grabbing my hand and dragging me behind him. We passed a few water games and then stopped at a shooting game, waiting for the people in front of us to take their turns. We stepped forward as the young man behind the counter yelled, “Next.”

Roman handed him the money and picked up what looked like a small pellet gun. I stood back, watching as the man reset the targets and explained the rules. The buzzer sounded, and the targets started moving. In a matter of seconds, Roman had the whole first two rows cleared. A crowd formed behind us, watching Roman. Not only did he hit his fifteen targets, but he cleared all forty of them. He looked back at me and smirked. His eyes dazzled with enjoyment.

“How did I do?” he asked the guy behind the counter, setting the gun back down. The guy looked down at his timer, and his jaw just about hit the floor.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever seen knock down all the targets. That’s crazy.”

Roman smiled, and I stared at him in awe. My heart fluttered in my chest. Since he won, he had choice prize. “Do you want to choose one?” he asked, pointing to the large stuffed animals. I was flattered, but the stuffed animals were larger than me, and there was no way I was going to carry it around the park.

“Thank you, but I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head. Slight disappointment crossed his face, but quickly disappeared as he walked over to the little girl standing beside me. He knelt down and told her to pick a prize. A large smile formed on the little girl’s face. He stood back up and stepped in front of me. Dipping his chin, his eyes met mine.

“Still think I shoot like a girl, Miss Parker?”

I shook my head as I looked into his eyes. It was in that moment I realized how much I liked him. He was like some kind of positive magnetic force, pulling me toward him, and I was tired of fighting it.

Roman reached into his pocket and pulled out his black leather wallet. Opening it up, he pulled out a crisp new one-hundred-dollar bill. “Race me in the go-karts. You win and this hundred dollar bill is yours.”

A devious grin spread across my face. “You sure you want to lose a hundred bucks?”

“In your dreams, Miss Parker,” he challenged, darting off toward the go-karts. I stood breathless for a moment and then took off after him. That one-hundred-dollar bill was so mine. He was right about one thing though. Michael Roman Hayes was most definitely in my dreams, and it was exactly where he needed to stay.

When I reached the go-kart line, Roman already stood there, two helmets in his hands. Reaching his arm out, he handed me the gaudy pink one before turning back to face the front of the line. I pulled my butterfly clip from my hair and set it down, placing the heavy helmet on my head.

“How do I look?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. I held my palms right side up on either side of my face. Roman turned around slowly. His eyes traced my figure, and when they finally met mine, his breath hitched. He stared at me longer than he probably should have and then stepped toward me. My heart beat so fast it felt like it was punching the inside of my ribcage.

Holding his stare, he reached out for my face, and the tips of his fingers grazed my cheeks. Oh man. That was the move you made when you were going to kiss someone. He was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me.

Closing my eyes, my breath faltered as my lips fell open. I waited for the soft silky feeling of his lips to press against mine, but it never came. Instead, his fingers moved to the black straps hanging from the sides of the helmet. Grabbing them, he buckled them under my chin. My cheeks were aflame, and the circus of acrobats in my stomach were performing their main event. Roman’s mouth fell open, and I waited for the words that were about to roll from his lips.