I nodded. A little fortification might be just the thing. Throwing off lingering exhaustion, I slid from the stool to follow Roane.
He looked over his shoulder to make sure I was behind him, and did a double take. His gaze dropped to my legs and slowly traveled back upward, and I swore I saw the crests of his cheeks redden before he looked away.
Ignoring my smugness, I studied the back of him and cursed our maker for creating men with such fine asses.
You’re objectifying the farmer, I scolded myself.
It was hard not to appreciate those wide shoulders, the tapered waist, and the way he moved through the tables with an easy, loose-limbed gait. Shadow trotted behind him, and they both drew admiring gazes.
Roane stopped at the lit fireplace and pulled out a chair, gesturing me to it.
I did not swoon at the gentlemanliness. I was merely light-headed from all the food and was forced to collapse quickly into the chair. The heat from the fire caused goose bumps on my arms and legs as Shadow sprawled out in front of the fireplace as if he’d done it many times before. Roane took the seat opposite me.
We were both so tall, our knees knocked together under the table.
The corner of his lips tipped upward as if this amused him. Those dark eyes studied my face as they had earlier today. I squirmed in my seat, hoping I didn’t have crumbs at the corners of my mouth. Or that he’d look lower to where my belly rolls were visible and particularly prominent after the fish and chips.
Are you listening to yourself?
Weren’t these the thoughts I’d tried to banish over the years? Was a stupid four-week social media encounter really going to screw with my self-esteem? And hadn’t I just repeatedly told myself that Roane Robson was off-limits? So what the hell did I care what he thought about my body?
I relaxed back in my chair, and Roane’s gaze automatically flickered downward.
He never got farther than my boobs. Visibly swallowing, he looked quickly away. There was a definite flush on the tops of his cheeks. “The place will quiet down in a bit.” His voice sounded extra rumbly, maybe even a little hoarse.
Hating how charmed I was that such a sexy man was flushing like a schoolboy, I picked up a menu from the table and started to fan my heated skin. “Is it always this busy?”
Roane’s gaze moved back to mine. “It gets busy April through October because it’s heavily advertised by Visit Northumberland—the tourist board.” He gestured to the room. “It usually quiets down around nine o’clock, leaving mostly locals.”
“Is your farm in Alnster?”
“Just outside.”
Before I could ask any more questions, Milly appeared with our drinks and was accompanied by a man the same height as her. He was a handsome bald man, with dark umber skin, lots of gray stubble on his cheeks and chin, and warm, laughing dark eyes. He wore chef whites. He placed a delicious-looking sticky toffee pudding and ice cream on the middle of the table along with a spoon for me and one for Roane.
“Evie, this is my husband, Dexter. Dexter, Evie.”
I held out my hand, beaming at him. “So nice to meet you. Your food is amazing.”
“I told you you’d like her,” Milly muttered.
Dexter chuckled and brought my hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “It’s a pleasure, Evie. I’m chuffed to bits you like the food, considering you’re from Chicago.” Dexter released my hand and leaned on the table, his head bent toward mine conspiratorially. “Have you ever eaten at Alinea? It’s on my bucket list.”
Alinea was a fine dining restaurant in the city. It had three Michelin stars and was ranked in the top fifty best restaurants in the world. I chuckled at the feverish look in his eyes. “I’m afraid not. Alinea is a little out of my price range.”
The chef opened his mouth to say something else, but Milly caught him by the arm. “Let them eat their pudding.” Milly smiled at me. “We’ll come over later when the pub is quieter and join you for a pint.”
Something in me relaxed. Having Milly and Dexter as a buffer between me and Roane did not sound like a bad thing. “Great!”
When they’d gone, Roane waved a hand at the plate. “Ladies first.”
Sharing a dessert was strangely intimate. It did not help that we kept locking gazes. His eyes appeared darker than they really were because of the sable outer rims of his irises. However, on close inspection, I found a lighter shade of brown encircled his pupils, a dark mahogany, and between the sable and mahogany were embers of a fire. Copper in the sunlight. Bright autumn leaves on dark soil.
I could have stared into Roane’s eyes all night.
Most discomforting in all this was the fact that I wasn’t uncomfortable. Despite my hyperawareness of him, I was weirdly at ease in his company.
“So.” Roane pushed the plate aside. “Chicago?”
“I grew up in the suburbs of Indiana. Carmel, north of Indianapolis. But I graduated from Northwestern University, which is north of Chicago, and I just never left. What about you? Born and raised in Northumberland?”
“Aye. The farm is a couple of miles from here. I went to school, traveled a bit, but the Northumberland Coast is home.”
I smiled, imagining him wandering the world only to be drawn back to the beauty here. “What a home it is.”
Roane smiled appreciatively. “You like it here so far then?”
“So far. Alnster is beautiful, and I haven’t even walked along the beach yet.”
“There’s a lot more to see.”
“I know. I’ve decided the store will only be open four days a week. That way the rest of the time I’ll sightsee.”
“Good plan. You know, it was a surprise to hear you rented from Penny. Last we heard, she was selling the place.”
This news surprised and saddened me. I hadn’t even been open one day as the “owner,” and yet it had already brought me the peace and relaxation I’d been looking for. To be surrounded by books in such a beautiful place. “I booked last minute, maybe that’s why.”
Roane asked me why renting a bookstore was my idea of a vacation, and I told him of my love of all things books and Shakespeare.
His lips twitched and he stared at me, gaze warm, like he thought I was adorable. “I’ve never really been a fan of Shakespeare, to be honest.”
I narrowed my eyes, teasing, “How can you not be a fan of Shakespeare?”
Roane shrugged.
“Now is the winter of our discontent.”
His eyes danced with laughter.
“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”