Page 47 of Dairy and Deadly

“This?” He quirked one eyebrow at her, pretending confusion.

A warm shade of pink tinged her high cheekbones. “Us.”

“Oh, so now there’s anus?” He was tickled to hear her attempt to slap a label on it. For him, a label wasn’t necessary. He’d already peeled back her feelings about him, and it was enough. For now. He wasn’t ready to defend himself to his brother-in-law over falling for a woman they’d both previously labeled as shallow and self-serving. Clint had some serious praying to do on the matter first.

She ignored his jibe. “If there’s anything to this,” she jabbed a finger against his chest, which he happily flexed for her benefit, “it’ll stand on its own merit. I willnot,” she raised herself to her tiptoes to bring them nose to nose, “have you accusing me of using you as an emotional baseball bat on Johnny or anyone else!”

“Anyone else?” he taunted. It was all he could do to resist smashing his mouth against hers again. “Exactly how many others am I competing with for your kisses, darling?”

Fury leaped into her gaze. “While we’re being nasty to each other, you need to watch your step with Ashley.”

His gaze narrowed on hers. “Jealous much?”

“Focus!” Caro bit out the word so vehemently that he chuckled. “I’m telling you she’s dangerous.”

“Any proof?” There was no way he was throwing his new coworker under the bus on the word of a jealous rival.

“The truth will come out soon.” She looked genuinely disturbed at the prospect. “There’s a lawsuit coming down the pike that’ll land her in a heap of trouble. One that’ll label her as a dirty cop, just like her dead partner.”

It was troubling news indeed. “How do you know this?”

Caro expressively raised and lowered her shoulders. “We’re both from Dallas. It’s plastered all over the news there.”

“Well, then.” He searched her gaze and found it difficult to read. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll pass the word on to Johnny. Discreetly, of course.”

“What if he doesn’t listen?” There was a warning note in her voice. “Ashley seems to have him beneath her spell.”

“He’s my brother-in-law,” Clint reminded, hoping he wasn’t the one who’d been enchanted by a sorceress. “Which is why it won’t take much for him to guess there’s something between us. There’s the risk our secret will come out if I say anything to him.” He dropped his arms, knowing he had a powerful lot to pray about in the coming days. To him, Ashley was about as dangerous as a wounded bird dragging a wing behind her. But what if it was only an act?

“Do what you have to do to make him listen to reason.” Caro’s expression lost some of its severity. “In the meantime, you need to be careful, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!” He cupped her face between his hands. “You got any other marching orders before I finish loading up boxes?”

Johnny setup an appointment with Farmer Monty to meet for breakfast the next morning. In true Monty Chester style, he insisted on meeting in his own kitchen and stirring up some breakfast for them.

He sailed across the eat-in kitchen with two plates teetering with mountainous piles of pancakes. Berries and syrup dripped down the sides, with a dollop of whipped cream on top. He set the plates down on the rustic farm table with a flourish, sliding Johnny’s closer to him.

Then he climbed on the bench across from him and folded his hands. “Shall we say grace?”

Johnny bowed his head while Farmer Monty said a blessing over their food. “Amen,” they chorused at the end. Then he dug in. “Thanks for the pancakes!”

“Watching you clean your plate is all the thanks I need, kid.” Farmer Monty took his first bite, and they munched in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“What would you like to drink?” The aging farmer abruptly laid down his fork. “Milk, orange juice, coffee, tea?”

“How about a glass of water?” Johnny preferred milk with his breakfast, but he was a bit of a milk snob. He only drank it straight from his own dairy farm.

Farmer Monty rolled his eyes. “I exclusively stock your brand around here if that’s what has your knickers in a wad.”

As much as Johnny would like to believe it, he wasn’t buying it. “What about your new herd?” For reasons he still didn’t understand, the grizzled old farmer had recently invested in a couple dozen dairy cattle and installed a few milking machines.

“Bah!” Farmer Monty waved a hand dismissively. “They’re not mine. I’m just letting an old friend park his herd here until he can get the proper equipment set up at his place.”

Johnny’s curiosity stirred. “Is it someone I know?”

“Probably not.” Farmer Monty shrugged. “Martin’s great-uncle died long before you arrived in town. We figured his heir would sell the place since he was born and raised in Dallas. Instead, he’s making noises about dividing his time between the city and country.”

“Martin?” Foreboding settled in Johnny’s gut.

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