Roane shook his head, his mouth curling up at the corners. “He’s just being a good husband. And a good friend.”

“A good friend?”

His smile was far too wicked and flirtatious. “Bobby knows I like having you to myself.”

Oh, he really had to stop saying such things. Heat pooled low in my belly, and I shifted uncomfortably. “Right,” I practically squeaked.

My friend laughed, a deep, rumbly, masculine knowing laugh that caused me to flush with sexual awareness.

Thankfully, Milly appeared at that moment with my cider and asked me about the store. When she walked back to the bar, I turned the conversation away from the flirtatious tone it had developed. “Caro is thinking of opening a bakery?”

Roane nodded. “Aye. There’s a lot to opening a business, but with the money her mum and dad left, even if the bakery failed, she’d be all right. Still, I think she should consider starting smaller—taking on orders for events like birthdays and such and seeing how that goes. If she builds up a strong enough reputation, then I don’t see why she shouldn’t consider opening up a bakery.”

That made sense to me, and I told him so. Over an hour passed as we talked about Caro, the farm, the supposed rumor West had started about book prices. We talked about everything but our no-go areas—my mom, my future departure from Alnster, and the attraction between us that was growing hard to ignore.

I was laughing at a story Roane was telling me about when he and Bobby were in Newcastle for Bobby’s bachelor party and Bobby had mistaken a real policewoman for a stripper.

“That doesn’t happen in real life.” I shook my head, giggling.

“I assure you it bloody does. He spent the night in the clink.”

“Are you telling Bobby’s stag do story again, Roane Robson?” Hazel appeared beside us, shaking her head in mock disapproval. “You know he hates you telling that story.”

“Only when you’re around.”

“Wait, wait.” Milly hurried through the tables to join Hazel beside us. We looked up at the two women in bemusement. “Okay, now you’re good.” She nudged Hazel.

Bobby’s wife removed her hand from her back. In it was a rolled-up piece of white fabric. She held it out to Roane. “A peace offering. For the other night when we were pestering you about your love life.”

“Evie here was right.” Milly gave him an apologetic smile. “We’re going to leave you be from now on.”

Roane and I shared a confused smile as he reached for the fabric. “Uh, thank you.”

Unfortunately, I made the mistake of taking a gulp of cider just as Roane unrolled the cotton fabric to reveal a T-shirt.

Printed across the front of the chest in bold large print were the words lady porn.

Laughter exploded out of me and with it the cider in my mouth.

It sprayed all down the front of the T-shirt as I began to choke in hysterics.

Milly and Hazel burst into peals of laughter as Roane shook his head, shoulders shaking with his own laughter as he used the T-shirt to wipe the cider that had landed on his cheeks.

I couldn’t even apologize, I was laughing too hard.

Stumbling out of my chair, I wrapped both my arms around Milly and Hazel. My heroes.

“You have to put it on.” I turned to Roane as I fumbled for the cell in my back pocket. “I need to take a photo for posterity.”

Although his lips twitched with amusement, he narrowed his eyes. “You’re joking, right?”

I took hold of the shirt and pressed it against his shoulders. “This is Instagrammable material right here,” I teased.

He eyed me for a few seconds. “You don’t think I’ll do it.”

Of course I didn’t. What man would?

Roane pushed back his chair, pulled the T-shirt over the top of the plain one he wore, and he leaned back, his arms by his sides. He raised one eyebrow as if to say, Well?

Christ, I adored him.

“Seriously?” I grinned, clutching my phone to my chest.

“Why not?” He gestured to Milly and Hazel. “They went to the trouble and I’m never wearing it again, so you might as well take a picture now.”

Practically humming with giddiness, I opened the camera and held it to Milly. “I want to be in it too.”

She was still wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes as she took the phone. I lowered to my haunches beside Roane, one hand on his shoulder for balance as I grinned at the camera.

It was only later, after Roane had taken off the silly shirt and said good night to me at the door to the store, that I looked up the photo on my phone to put it on Instagram. I was sitting in bed, still amused over the night’s events, when I opened the photo of us.

The smile dropped from my face.

Not because I was unhappy.