Page 7 of The Roper & the Author

“I’m actuallybien,” she admitted. “Fine, not good in this instance.”

“I can see that,” he said in a teasing tone as his eyes swept over her like the best compliment she’d ever received. “Very, very fine.”

She grinned. She was going to arch up and kiss him in front of his mother and nobody in the world would blame her for it. Abuelita would be cheering. Wherever she was.

The thought of Abuelita being in danger slammed into her like a hurricane. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“Hey now.” His grin disappeared. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No. No.” She shook her head. “You say everything far too right.”

Aiden, Nick, and Jared Coleville came in from the front of the house and Easton burst in from the back door. Walker straightened away from her, regret in his blue eyes.

Everyone worked together to bring dinner over to the huge table. Dinner was delicious and loud, and Marci was the center of attention. As an only child raised by her grandmother the past ten years and a reclusive author, she was not used to loud, boisterous gatherings and handsome, accomplished men asking her loads of questions. It was to their credit they all made her feel comfortable.

Walker, Easton, Millie, and Jared all asked questions about her family, her writing, her home, her college experiences, why she spoke in Spanish but her name was American, and how shecame up with the idea for the series that had the horrific son of the even more horrific King Frederick after her. Aiden and Nick already knew too much about her, so they listened or filled in details she missed.

The answers were easy—she had no family but Abuelita, at least none she was revealing tonight, her writing was her life, she’d built a guesthouse on Abuelita’s estate when she graduated from Florida State, she’d spent most of her university days with her head in the clouds composing stories, her name came from her father’s side not her Cuban grandmother, and all inspiration for stories came from heaven above, but everybody knew that already. They all smiled when she said that.

She couldn’t riddle out how King Frederick and now Wilhelm Frederick assumed she must have some spy in her back pocket to be able to write a story so eerily similar to King Frederick’s reign of terror. Stories flowed from her fingertips and inspiration from the good Lord as she got her ‘rear in the chair’ and tapped them out on her laptop. It wasn’t as if she planned to write about a demented military dictator overthrowing a country, invading other countries, murdering millions of innocents, and doing everything in his power to obtain a mighty secret weapon. The stories just came, and she was grateful for them. Except when they placed a target on her back from a scary dictator and now put Abuelita in extreme danger.

Aiden and Nick said their goodbyes after dinner. They promised to find Abuelita and come for Marci as soon as it was safe. She wanted Abuelita safe. She wasn’t so certain she wanted to leave this mountain paradise soon, not if the likes of Walker Coleville was here. Maybe they could just bring Abuelita here. She and Mama Millie would have a fine time together, if they didn’t get at odds because they were both feisty and ran things their way.

Marci helped the family clean up and then wondered what to do with herself. She wanted to ask Walker to escort her outside to see if the mountains were as big and intimidating and glorious as she thought. A horseback ride through the mountains? Oh my, she loved that idea. Sadly, the sun was already gone so they couldn’t see the mountains, but she could be with Walker and that was all that mattered.

Normally, she’d be itching to get to her laptop and type. She was itching to write down every detail of Walker’s words, blue gaze, unique scent, touch, and the mind-blowing connection she’d felt to him, but she didn’t want to be away from him, not for a moment. She could write all night long if needed. She couldn’t feel the crisp mountain air and gaze at the glorious mountains and more importantly have experiences and conversations with Walker all night long. She blushed at the thought.

“I’m sure you’re exhausted, dear,” Mama said. “Easton will escort you up to your room and be watching over you and sleeping in the room next door while you stay with us.”

Easton … Easton … What about Walker? One glance in Walker’s direction showed he didn’t like the arrangement any more than she did. She wanted to protest that she only wanted Walker and it was far too early to go to sleep, but what could she say that wouldn’t offend her hosts?

“Gracias.”

Easton smiled and walked to her. He put his hand on the small of her back and escorted her from the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Walker watching her go. His blue eyes called to her. Their connection was off the charts. Truly love at first sight. Did he feel it too?

She and Easton walked out of the kitchen area, through the living area, and to the stairs. She wanted to be a bold heroine andrun back to Walker, throw herself into his arms. Sadly, she kept walking.

“You realize how lucky you are having me as your bodyguard?” Easton asked, all cocky and teasing.

“Very lucky.” She laughed. “You are full of yourself, aren’t you, my handsome cowboy protector?”

“Hey now,” he protested, also laughing. “I am your handsome cowboy protector, and you read me like a book.”

“Good one.” She laughed too, though she wanted Walker to be her only handsome cowboy, hervaquero guapo. “I am an expert at reading books.” She wasn’t trying to flirt with Easton; he was simply easy to talk and tease with. How could she ask him questions about his twin brother? She wanted to Google Walker Coleville and see what came up. Any question heaven above couldn’t answer her friend Google could.

They stopped outside her bedroom door. Easton pressed his hand against the wall next to her. He looked very similar to his brother—tall, handsome, dark hair, blue eyes, well-built body encased in cowboy apparel—but he wasn’t Walker. It was interesting that from first sight she’d been instinctively drawn to one twin and not the other. Everything Walker said and the times they’d touched reinforced the draw. Walker made her comfortable and all lit up inside. What a miracle he was.

She wrote about similar situations, a heroine irrevocably drawn to one man while another felt like a friend or brother. Sadly, she didn’t have real world experience. No handsome boyfriends to speak of and her only brother had died ten years ago. The dozen or so dates in college with nice boys and a handful of dates with flirtatious tourists couldn’t really prepare a girl for the likes of a stud like Walker Coleville. Ooh, she had so much to write about right now. Thank heavens for that as it would keep her mind off of stewing about what might be happening to Abuelita.

“So you’re sleeping next door. Where does Walker sleep?”

Easton arched an eyebrow. “In his cabin.”

He had his own cabin. She’d like to see that.

“At least tonight,” Easton said. “Tomorrow morning he’s flying to Amarillo for a rodeo.”

No bueno, she wanted to cry out. “Rodeo?” she managed. “Is he a bull rider?”

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