Page 14 of Why Cheese?
Roq sighs. “Weren’t you the one who voted against this arrangement in the first place?”
Through gritted teeth, Cam spits back. “Can you not comprehend the difference between a walrus of a man holding our leash versus this delicate, gorgeous creature?” With no one to stop him, he picks up my hand and presses it to his lips, his velvety eyes not breaking from me for a second.
The gremlin in my brain grabs onto the word gorgeous and bats it around like a cat with a milk lid. I try to close my mouth, fearing I might be drooling, as Cam places my hand on my lap. He shoots a snarl at Roq. “Even your holy brain can appreciate that.”
I brace for Roq’s derisive snort, but he’s gone quiet and contemplative. The others glance from Cam back to Roq looking like kids hoping their parents will take them to McDonald’s.
Bree nudges his shoulder against Roq’s back, not even swaying the brick of a man. “What if it’s not safe for us to move?”
“That cellar’s perfect. Dark. Quiet. And so many leftover bricks for me to lift.” Cheddy raises both of his arms, then flexes. His brick-honed biceps harden so fast light gleams off of the oiled skin, blinding my eyes.
One by one, the four men debate without saying a word. It’s a lot of dramatic eyebrow flares and lip twitches before they each turn to me. After a stretch of dead silence, Roq prompts, “Well…”
Me, be in charge of, no—the mistress of—four dangerously hot men? Four men who seem to think that clothing is optional? Men that live in the cellar of a cheese shop like gorgeous, often-naked vampires?
“I…” My tongue dries as I stumble into each of their eyes. Cheddy’s gleam, Cam’s scheme, Bree’s hide, and Roq’s… I stop at his glaring defiantly. He seems to do that a lot. “I don’t even know what you are.”
“We are…” The unshakable certainty crumbles. Roq bites his lip, drawing my attention to just how pink they are against his skin.
With boundless energy, Cheddy shouts, “Were-cheese!”
“Where’s the cheese?” I ask. Spinning, I point to the mummified dairy in the trash bag. “There’s the cheese.”
“No.” Cam glances the tip of his finger to my chin and pulls me back to him. “What my eternally exuberant friend is saying is that we—”
“Become cheese,” Roq interrupts.
A disbelieving chortle rattles in my throat. It so badly wants to become a belly laugh at the idea that a grown man could become cheese. But as I look into their staid faces, my laugh hardens into a stone in my belly. “Are you, you’re not…serious?”
“Deadly,” Cam says.
They’re cheese people? Dairy men? My finger rises—denial ringing through my brain—and pokes Cam’s cheek. His skin feels normal, smooth, and warm like a… He smiles, causing a dimple to form just below my fingertip. It obliterates all my similes, leaving me damn near brain-dead as I keep poking his face.
“You don’t feel like cheese,” I mutter.
“I assure you, my darling, I am very much flesh and blood.” He catches my finger, then takes both my hands in his. Damn near purring in my ear, he asks, “Do you wish to see how real and famished the flesh is?”
“We aren’t cheese now. We’re men,” Roq interrupts.
“Unless we eat cheese,” Cheddy adds. “Then you better open a window or two because phew!” He flaps a hand in front of his face while plugging his nose. Cam sighs and steps away as if accepting he’s lost a battle I didn’t realize I was in the middle of.
“Can you…?” I inch to the edge of the barrel, my curiosity spiking. “Can you turn into cheese right now?”
“No,” Roq insists.
“Why not?”
“Because we can’t.”
Of course, they can’t. They’re messing with me. They think I’m an idiot. Cheese men? Really?“Because you’re lying. You’re all escaped, prisoner-tunneling magicians!” I waggle my finger at them, realizing that I’ve been had. People don’t turn into food. Duh.
“Are we magicians who were imprisoned or magicians that tunnel?” Cheddy asks.
“I believe we were prisoners put away for using our magic to create tunnels,” Cam explains.
“Don’t be idiots,” Roq growls with such ferocity it shuts up not only Cheddy and Cam but me as well. I dip my head, afraid to catch his glaring eye.
A soft voice pipes up. “It’s night.”
