“Isn’t everything in here all-natural?”

“Yes. Most of it. The only thing about the pure line is that it’s…limited. There’s only hand soap in a dispenser.”

“All right.” This customer, like most of the other customers who have asked me a question beyond how are you, goes hesitantly toward the back of the store. She does not look enthusiastic. Chalk that up to another sale lost.

I do my best to put on an encouraging smile for Marjorie, but her frown only deepens.

Yeah. This job isn’t going to last the shift.

But in an attempt to make another ten dollars, I slap a grin on my face and turn to face the next customer.

I feel the smile drop right to the floor.

I never expected to see him in here. To see me like this.

The days where I wore cute skirt suits are two weeks gone. I put all of that stuff away—all the high heels, all the eyeliner, everything. Those things belonged to a different woman. A woman who was playing a role that wasn’t rightfully hers. I’m done doing that.

Roman doesn’t appear to notice any of that. He’s looking at me with the same intensity he did on all of those precious days we spent together. I take him in with a sweep of my eyes and a wrench of my heart. He’s so sexy that he makes my mouth water. I keep my hands studiously away from my chest and my pounding heart.

“Excuse me,” he says, lifting the same bar of soap from the front display. “Do you work here?”

I motion lamely to my apron. “Yes. How—how can I help you?” The heat in my face is a dead giveaway, and I want to cover my cheeks with my hands. I don’t do it. I’m done hiding the real me from the world. I won’t hide it from Roman, as much as I’d like to.

“I wanted to know what you think of this soap.”

He steps closer, holding it out under some pretense of me reading the label, but I can’t look away from his eyes. They’re so blue. I could dive right into them and never come out.

“This soap,” he prompts. “I’d like to know whether it would be wise to purchase it.”