Page 42 of Renard's Deliverance

Renard crossed his arms over his chest. “Yep. But I’m guessing you’re not here to ask for a cup of sugar.”

“Considering I live across town, no I’m not,” Jake said dryly.

“Good call,” she told Jake, stepping around Renard. “Because I don’t have any sugar.”

Renard stepped back in front of her before he turned to give her an incredulous look. “You don’t have sugar?”

“Why would I need sugar?” she asked.

“For your coffee?”

“Don’t take it. Just creamer.”

“What about on your oatmeal?” he asked.

“Urgh, why would I want to eat that?” She made a face.

“Baking?”

“Darlin’, do I look like I know how to bake?”

“Renard, could you move out of the way?” Jake said with exasperation in his voice.

“Nope, don’t think I could.”

“Do you really think you need to protect Opal from me? I’m the sheriff.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t hurt her,” Renard said.

“It should mean that,” Jake replied. “It does mean that. I would never harm any woman, Opal included.”

Renard didn’t move.

Dear Lord.

Reaching out, she pinched his back. Or she tried to. There was no excess fat or skin to pinch.

Damn. The man was built. Wasn’t he a chef? Did he not sample his own food?

So instead of pinching him in the back, she tugged his arm. “Move.”

Renard turned again to give her a look. “I’m protecting you.”

“I don’t need protection from Jake.” She stepped to the side again.

This time, finally, Renard didn’t move.

Maybe he could learn.

But when she tried to step closer to Jake, Renard flung out his arm to stop her.

Well, hell.

The man needed to chill in a big way.

“Put your arm down,” she ordered.

“Then you stay where you are,” he countered.

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