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3
Fantasy Fodder
“What can we do?”I ask Romero.
His face is set in stern lines. For some reason, his anger on my behalf sends a little thrill through me. “He’s harassing you, so the first step is for you to file a police report and get a restraining order. After that, Kara will track down this Turnbull and try to find out who his clientis.”
His mention of Kara and the work she’ll be doing reminds me that this is going to cost money we don’t really have. Maybe they’ll let us pay them in cheese. “I haven’t asked about your feeyet.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry aboutit.”
My arms cross before I’m aware of it, an instinctive rebellion against him seeing me as someone who needs his charity. “We’ll pay you.” It comes out sounding brittle.
He moves close and tilts my chin up, his thumb resting in the dent there. My breathing goes shallow. ”You can work something out with Kara. Whatever you arrange will be fine, so ... don’t worry aboutit.”
Now I feel like a jerk. “Okay. Sorry.”
He smiles, and my heart flipflops in my chest. Damn, he’s gorgeous. I want his hands all over me; I want to wrap myself around him while he shows me his best moves.
My sisters come in then, and I feel an irrational flicker of jealousy when Romero moves away. I sent them off to finish the milking without so much as an introduction, so good manners take over. “These are my sisters, Brianna and Quinn.”
He shakes their hands, all professional courtesy, then asks me, “Is now a good time for that trip to the police station? I can call Kara and ask her to meet us there.”
The twins look like Christmas came early. “We’ll go with you,” Bree says, not even trying to hide her eagerness.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Sorry,” I tell Romero. “We don’t get into town that often.” To Bree I say, “It’s the police station, not themall.”
She does roll her eyes. “Wake up, sis. The police station is infinitely more interesting than themall.”
Romero’s fighting a smile. “It’s all right. I can drive you allin.”
Bree doesn’t give me a chance to turn him down. “We’ll just … go … freshen up,” she says, and she and Quinn beat a hasty retreat. A moment later their footsteps thunder up the stairs and I open my mouth to apologize.
“It’s really okay,” Romero says before I can speak. “I don’t have anything pressing on my schedule this morning.”
I shouldn’t begrudge my sisters a trip into town, even if it means them intruding on my time with Romero. “Thanks. We should follow you in, though, so you don’t have to bring us backhere.”
He raises an eyebrow. “First of all, that truck you have parked outside looks pretty decrepit.”
“It still runs,” I say defensively. “Dad kept it in really good shape.”
“I’m sure he did. But all the same, I’d feel safer if we all went in my car. And secondly ...” He moves in on me again. “I don’t mind bringing you all back because after that, I’m taking youout.”
The man does not waste time. I smile. “Okay, then.”
His thumb grazes over my lower lip and I feel it deep inside. Romero lowers his head, brushing his lips over mine, softly, and a tiny whimper of need escapes me. He responds at once, sealing his mouth to mine, and a dark, wild energy rushes between us in the instant before the twins come clattering down the stairs.
We break off and stare at each other. Romero’s eyes are glowing; every cell in my body seems to tremble in reply. Footsteps sound outside the kitchen, and he takes a stepback.
Quinn comes in wearing a cute little powder-blue sundress, followed by Bree in an all-black rock-star outfit, jeans and t-shirt and boots.
Bree baked this morning too, and has a batch of cookies cooling on the counter. She gets out one of the boxes we used to use for the farmers’ market and starts packing the cookies in it. “Since we’re barging into the police station, I figure we should bring a peace offering,” she explains.
I do roll my eyes then, to let her know I’m wise to her, but don’t object. My sisters have put makeup on, and now I wish I had too, especially since I’ll be going out later. That decides me. “I’ll be right back,” I announce, and make another dash out and up the stairs.
A hint of blusher, a swipe of mascara, and some lip gloss, and I hurry back down to find everyone waiting for me. When Romero catches sight of me, something primal flickers in his eyes. I almost jump him then, sisters or no sisters, but manage to behave myself.
We follow him out to his car, a gleaming black sedan, one of the pricy ones. Not super luxe, but not cheap. My sisters aim for the back seat doors, saving us all the indignity of tussling for the passenger seat next to Romero.
