Page 66 of Much Ado About You

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But because I was stunned.

While I beamed a bright smile toward the camera, Roane wasn’t even looking at Milly.

His head was turned toward me, and the raw, open adoration in his expression was breathtaking.

My eyes burned as I stared at the photo, unable to look away from him. No one had ever looked at me that way.

No one.

My chest suddenly felt tight, packed to the brim as it was with emotion.

I couldn’t put that photo on Instagram.

It was too personal.

For my eyes only.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

Somehow, I knew that photo had changed everything.

Sixteen

As I handed money to Milly for my breakfast, I reminded her to thank Dex for the delicious omelet I’d just enjoyed.

“Will do, lass.” She eyed me speculatively as she handed over my receipt. “Heard you’re spending the day at Roane’s farm?”

I was no longer surprised by other people knowing my business. It really did come with the territory of living in a tiny village. “Yeah, he’s picking me up.”

For almost two weeks I’d avoided spending time alone with Roane while I tried to get a handle on my emotions. However, he’d finally invited me out to his farm. It was two Sundays after the infamous lady porn photo, and despite my attempts to cajole Caro into joining us, I was going to be alone with Roane.

All day.

Caro had seen the farm. She wasn’t interested. Truthfully, I think she just didn’t want to be a third wheel.

Great.

“Enjoy that.” Milly winked at me.

Over the past few weeks, the winks, hints, and innuendos about my friendship with Roane had increased to the point it was like water off a duck’s back for both of us. It felt like the entire patronage of The Anchor was willing me to jump Roane Robson’s bones. Belly fluttering at the mere thought, I waved goodbye and headed outside to the parking lot, where Roane said he’d collect me.

The sun shone strong in a cloudless sky, and since we were headed somewhat inland where there wasn’t even a sea breeze for relief, I had worn shorts, a loose-flowing tank top, and a pair of Wellington boots I’d bought online. They were dark pink and cute as hell.

I’d pulled my hair up high in a ponytail to keep it off my neck, and I could feel the sun burning hot on my nape as I waited.

Through the brown filter of my sunglasses, I noticed movement across the street and started when I saw Lucas Elliot walking toward The Alnster Inn from the direction of the harbor.

“Hey, Lucas!” I called out before I could stop myself. Shifting my sunglasses into my hair, I skipped across the cobbled road as he stopped midstride. His brow puckered with obvious confusion at my approach. “How are you?”

Lucas crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “I’m all right. What can I do for you?”

Honestly, I’d approached him without really thinking about what I was doing, but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Viola heard about the altercation at the inn. She was grateful you stuck up for her.” She hadn’t said as much, but I knew her well enough to know that she was.

Hopefully.

Lucas scowled. “Who told her? She doesn’t need to know people say stupid shit like that.”

Oh, he so liked her.

It was a struggle to keep a straight face. “Small town.” I shrugged. There was no way I was telling him it was my fault.

“Why do you think I care what Viola thinks of me?” His gaze was far too searching, far too perceptive. “Why do you care?”

“I care because I care about Viola. And I’d like to think that you’re a good guy underneath all your bluster. She doesn’t deserve shit from anyone.”

“Right, well, you don’t know us. You’ve been here all of a few months; that doesn’t make you an expert on this village. Stay out of things between Viola and me,” he warned. “She’s a big girl and she can handle it.”

“Can she?”

Lucas’s head snapped back like I’d slapped him.

I smirked. “Ah, see, you think you’re so smart, that you know everything. Well, I do know Viola. And I know women. As a tough-talking variety of the species myself, I can say with some authority that sometimes we women bust a guy’s balls so he won’t see just how much his words hurt us.”

He shook his head, green eyes flashing with disbelief. “Why would anything I have to say matter enough to hurt Viola?”

“Yeah, Lucas.” I made a “duh” face. “Why would your words matter enough to hurt her?”

It took a second but slowly that disbelief and confusion softened to understanding. And then shock. Before veering between disbelief again and something I couldn’t quite work out.

He opened his mouth to respond, when a beep of a horn stopped him.


Tags: Samantha Young Romance