you’re referring to the clear fact that you hate being attracted to me.”
“Oh my God,” Bethany sputtered. “My head is going to explode.”
Wes gestured at their enthralled audience. “What’s all this?”
Bethany sighed. “Food. We brought food.”
“I don’t want charity,” Wes said after a beat. “If that’s what this is, I’ll thank you kindly to take it on home.”
Rosie stepped forward and her soft voice was like a balm over the whole situation. The tension ebbed immediately when she joined Wes on the porch, laying a hand on his arm. “Let’s start over. I’m Rosie. This is . . . everyone.” Smiles and murmurs followed. Wes spotted Dominic standing among the women and nodded in recognition. “We’re a tight-knit community here and I think we might have been a little overzealous. We’re not here to deliver charity, we’re just excited for the chance to be good neighbors. Everyone here has been the recipient of the same at some point.”
Transferring his attention from Rosie to Bethany, Wes started to say something when a little girl bounded out the door, stopping in front of Bethany.
“Oh,” Bethany said, sweeping the hem of her coat back. “Hi down there.”
“I’m Laura. You look like Elsa.”
Bethany blinked. “Who’s that?”
“Elsa in the movie Frozen,” the girl replied, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Ah, come on. You must know, Bethy,” Wes said, a grin spreading across his face. “She’s the ice princess.”
A moment passed. “Let’s not call me Bethy.”
Wes chuckled on his way into the house. “Come on in, ladies. And gentleman. Don’t worry about taking your shoes off.”
Dominic and Rosie traded an amused glance when the little girl took hold of Bethany’s hand and dragged her into the house. “Let’s go. I’ll show you Elsa. I have the doll.”
“Oh. Um . . . sure.”
Dominic put his hand on the small of Rosie’s back and guided her into the house. The whole place whipped into chaos within seconds, women piling coats onto the couch, rooting through the fridge to make a spot for their offerings. A doll in a blue dress sang about letting it go loud enough to drown out conversation. In the midst of it all was Rosie. She toed off her gold heels and directed traffic, taping a meal schedule to the fridge. She bit off strips of tape and slapped them on dishes, writing expiration dates in Sharpie.
Again, Dominic found himself struck dumb by her talent. How she moved so gracefully, answering questions as she worked. When Laura was finished playing with the shrieking doll, she danced into the kitchen, poking foil-covered trays with a finger. “Are there—”
Rosie handed her a cookie.
Dominic found himself backing toward the door. As much as he wanted to stand there and absorb the light and warmth from his wife all night, he couldn’t. Witnessing the proof of how much Rosie’s giving nature had been stifled was too much. He could almost feel his heart growing to accommodate these new parts of her. Another part of him warned it was too late, though. He’d hurt the woman he loved—and without the benefit of a time machine, he didn’t know how to repair the damage he’d done.
Dominic curled a hand around the doorknob, but Georgie’s voice stopped him.
“Where are you going?”
A silent breath left him. “Will you just tell her I’m proud of her?”
“Dominic—”
He walked out of the house before Georgie could try to convince him to stay. He couldn’t. Couldn’t let another minute pass wherein he was the roadblock standing between his wife and what she wanted most.
As soon as he reached the bottom of the porch, Dominic dialed Stephen’s number and held the phone to his ear. “Hey,” he said, when his friend answered. “That realtor we used to buy the house. Mine and . . . Rosie’s new house.” He swallowed hard. “You think she could help us put it back on the market? Priced to sell.”
Rosie had no idea how much time had passed between walking into Wes’s house and looking up to find Dominic gone from his post beside the door. It could have been twenty minutes or two hours. God, she hoped it wasn’t two hours. She’d only meant to get everything put inside the refrigerator and give out meal assignments, but the questions kept coming, and before she knew it, she wasn’t merely planning cuisine for the household, she was commiserating with Just Us League members about their kitchen disasters and giving them tips to avoid catastrophes in the future. Every time she