Page 43 of Unstable

She tipped her face up to him and grinned. “That sounds perfect.”

That smile of hers hit him like a sucker punch, stealing his breath and threatening to cut him down at the knees. It lit up her whole face, brightening everything around them. Even beneath those sunglasses, her eyes were so wide and so blue that he could drown in them. Like this, she made him feel like he was ten feet tall, the center of her whole world.

His gaze traveled the length of her, from the top of her head to the tips of her pink-painted toes. She was absolute perfection, everything he never knew he wanted. Everything about her drove him absolutely crazy. Thoughts of Irina consumed every free moment, and she had him so tangled up in knots that he swore he was going to lose his mind before this was over.

He sighed as they set off down the sidewalk. Looked like his hand was going to get a heck of a workout over the next few days.

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

Irina couldn’t help the little bubble of happiness surrounding her as they headed toward the restaurant. It was the first time Roman and Irina had truly been out of the house, and she was so excited she wanted to throw her arms wide and dance for joy. Over the past few days, she had learned to never take anything for granted, especially not being able to go out any time she chose.

A host greeted them as they climbed up the wide wooden steps. “Two tonight?”

“Yes, please,” Irina replied.

He tipped his head and grabbed two rolls of silverware. “Inside or out?”

Irina looked up at Roman. As if reading her mind, he nodded to the deck out back. “Outside.”

The host made a notation on his seating chart, then led them to a small table on the deck overlooking the ocean. “Gabi will be right with you.”

Roman grabbed a laminated menu from the condiment stand in the middle of the table, and Irina glanced toward the horizon, turned burnt orange from the setting sun. “This is beautiful,” she said.

As soon as the words left her throat, a pretty, young waitress—Gabi, according to her name tag—appeared by their table. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Iced tea for me, please,” Irina said.

Gabi nodded at her request then turned to Roman. A tiny kernel of jealousy lodged in Irina’s throat as Gabi’s eyes drifted over Roman’s wide shoulders and biceps that strained the sleeves of his dark polo. Completely unaware of her perusal, Roman ordered a Coke, then turned his attention back to the menu as the waitress reluctantly dragged her gaze away from him and drifted inside.

“What are you having?” Roman asked.

His eyes lifted to hers, and she forced a smile. “I haven’t looked yet.”

She had been too busy watching the waitress check him out to even look at the menu. Unaware of the detour her thoughts had taken, Roman continued. “Get a steak if you want one.”

“Maybe.” Irina picked up a menu and began to scan the items, then let out a soft sigh as she gestured to the ocean lapping at the shore just a few hundred yards away. “As good as it sounds, I’m probably better off ordering seafood.”

“Probably.” Roman grinned. “I’ll take you to a steakhouse next time you’re craving a steak.”

Next time? Irina’s cheeks burned as she dropped her gaze back to the menu in her hands. The waitress came back to deliver their drinks, then took their orders. Irina decided on the shrimp and scallops while Roman ordered an entire platter of seafood, plus several sides.

She glanced at him, amazed, as the waitress returned to the kitchen. “I don’t know where you put all that food.”

He leaned back in his chair and patted his flat—and very ripped—stomach. “I burn a lot of calories.”

Irina let out a very unladylike snort. “Must be nice to eat whatever you want and burn it all right back off.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed. “You need to stop listening to all those people. I’ve watched you pick at your food like you’re afraid to eat it because they’ve drilled it into your head that you’re somehow not good enough. There’s nothing wrong with you. Don’t let those idiots make you feel bad, because you’re absolutely⁠—”

He cut off suddenly, his gaze darting away as he gave his head a little shake. “You’re fine the way you are.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but he picked up his phone and began to fiddle with the screen. Irina watched him for a moment, not missing the tense set to his shoulders, the slight tic in his jaw. A warm glow flared to life around her heart, and she felt the heat climb over her chest and up her neck, and into her cheeks.

He thought she was perfect—he’d said as much earlier. She tried so hard to be confident, but she always seemed to fall short of the mark. People were always comparing her to someone else, and everyone had an opinion on how she should be. She’d heard it all—she was too fat, too thin, too pretty, too plain, too honest, too fake.

She’d be lying if she said Roman’s words didn’t affect her. Thank God she still wore her sunglasses so she could conceal her expression. Despite years of trying to harden herself, she still wore her heart on her sleeve, and her eyes were like an open book for anyone to read. It wasn’t the first time he’d seemed to look straight into her soul and known exactly how she felt.