Page 62 of Why Cheese?
The man nods to the two who obeyed him, then he zeroes in on the one who didn’t. “Camembert.” He stretches the word out like a parent using the dreaded middle name.
“Why? Are we being secretive again, Roquefort?”
Flaring his nostrils, Roq looks about to grab Cam by the scruff and hurl him down the ladder. Then he steps back and shakes his head. “No. I only wish to speak with her without your usualdistractions.”
Cam beams as if that’s a compliment, then he drops his arm off of me. “Very well…”
“Wait!” Realizing he’s about to leave me alone, I reach for him.
“Don’t worry, my dear. His bark is far deeper than his bite.” Despite his promise that he wouldn’t leave me not five minutes ago, Cam disappears down the ladder.
I’m alone, in the middle of the night, with a very large man that hates me. I shove my hands into my dress pockets to find my keys. Roq doesn’t talk to me. Instead, he inspects Brie’s paintings.
Is he going to yell at me for them?
A teeny tiny smile rises with the little sunrise. It almost soothes me, until he walks toward me. I leap back, struggling to get all of those keys between my knuckles. My back slams into the center counter. Lumbering like the gigantic, muscular bear that he is, Roq pins me in.
My neck heats up as I stare at his hands crossed over his chest, then at his hip cocked to the side. He could lurch forward in a heartbeat, grab me by the hair, take my ass, and…
“You’re wet.”
How the hell does he know that?
Unlike Cam’s lascivious once-over, and Cheddy’s blatant staring, Roq gives a quick glance to my chest. I slap my hands over my wet breasts, jangling the huge ring of keys. “There was an incident with a fountain.”
He snorts to himself. “The park. Of course, he went there. We need to speak.”
“Aren’t we?” I ask, my brain useless in panic mode.
For a second his lips twitch up as if he’s about to smile, but they crash to that familiar pouty frown. “About your intentions with this shop.”
“I forgot to tell the realtor,” I insist. Roq’s body sways closer to me. My first thought is to throw my hands up to stop him. My second is to let him bend me over the counter, leaving my third thought shaking its head in confusion.
Roq picks up my uncle’s old sign and staggers away from me. Holding the blank whiteboard in his hands, he takes a steadying breath. “I’ve been testy of late with you. I’m sorry.”
Wha’?The idea of an apology, especially from him, makes my skin shrink. “That’s okay,” I say, wanting to escape this awkward conversation now.
“You’ve been quick to offer help without much thought to what it will entail. A rare trait to find in someone.” Roq places the sign back on the counter, then he paces to the register. Staring at the pictures on the wall, he says, “It leads me to wonder why.”
“Well, we’re in this together.”
“I’m sorry, do you also become a curdled dairy product when the sun rises?”
The back of my neck burns and I rub it while staring at the floor. “No. But, I just thought, since you have all that cheese and need to sell it, why don’t I help you do that?”
“You do not reside in this city,” he states instead of asking.
I nod.
“Ergo, your life is elsewhere.”
I shrug. It’s hard to say I have a life anywhere.
He plucks one of the pictures of my uncle off the wall. “Yet you agree to remain here for three months while a million dollars sits on the table.”
“Five.”
Roq jerks around to face me. “What?”
