Page 29 of Why Cheese?
Which is when the suddenly soft-spoken Roq pipes up, “Be careful with Cam.”
“Why? He’s been incredibly nice to me.” I slip my head through the shirt’s neck and wiggle my arms into the sleeves.
“Of course he is. He’s nice with everyone that catches his fancy.”
“And why is that a problem?” I ask and drop the shirt down my body. It’s baggy enough to fit two of me and the hem lands mid-thigh. Worse still, the sleeves dangle three inches past my hands. I try to roll them up, which is when I realize that one, Roq is turning around, and two, the neckline on his old-fashioned shirt falls right at my bra.
As he stares straight down my cleavage and probably to my belly button, a little burst of air escapes from his lips.
You’re being a whore. Stop it.
This isn’t the gremlin, it’s my mom railing at me for letting the wind catch my skirt, or accidentally splitting my pants on the playground. Turtling up, I try to clamp the bowing neckline closed at the center while also keeping my legs closed tight.
I don’t mind Roq looking, I just hate that it has to be at me.
It doesn’t make any damn sense, but my brain’s broken anyway.
He closes his eyes, then walks toward me.
Oh jeez. Oh, man. What do I do?
His huge, muscular body lumbers closer like a mountain rolling over a field. He manages to eclipse the one ceiling light, casting me in shadow. I try to meet his gaze, but his eyes are somewhere in the stratosphere.What if I see anything other than mild annoyance in them?
What if he’s disgusted with me?
What if he’s not?
The shadow slips to the side as Roq reaches into a cabinet. A spool of twine falls free. He measures a few lengths up and down his forearm before breaking it off the spool with his bare hand.
Using a gentle touch, Roq bunches the waist of his large shirt together, then wraps me up in the twine. It leaves me peering up at him through his pectoral cleavage, my hands limp at the side.
All of his focus is on winding the twine around my waist over and over. “For all of his light, easy words, Cam carries a darkness inside.” Roq knots the twine up, but he doesn’t step back. His wide hands drop near my hips.
My heart pounds in my ears. He’s very nearly but not quite touching me. Electricity leaps across the no-man’s land between us. I keep clenching my toes, in agony for him to either hold me or step away. Standing in this tiny apartment there’s no way to escape the scent of his body wafting from his shirt. I expect to smell cheese, maybe even fresh milk or whatever rennet is. Instead, I smell sweet hay, the sun on a meadow, and wool.
Tingling from the heat of his naked chest just a few inches from mine, my body drops into a cascade of panic. My fingers tingle and legs shake, then my voice drops as I nearly whisper at him, “Are you saying that to protect me or him?”
Roq settles his palms on my shoulders. The tips of his fingers reach past my collarbones, but he doesn’t touch my bare skin. He lingers there, peering down at me. Then, the giant man starts to bend down.
A loud bang breaks from the door. “Cheddy’s finished with the milk,” Cam calls from outside. Roq freezes with his back partially bowed, but Cam doesn’t come inside.
Standing up straight, Roq calls out, “Good. I’ll be down there to start the curdling process.” With that, Roq pulls open the door to a surprised Cam whose ear was just pressed to it. He tries to leap back, but can’t go far on the roof or risk going splat. I’m not sure if all the king’s horses would have a better time putting a cheese back together again.
For a moment, he doesn’t register Roq, then he catches me with burning hot cheeks in Roq’s shirt-turned-dress. “Did we have fun?” Cam asks, his voice damn near spitting hot tacks.
“She was contaminated. Here. Get Brie to wash this.” Roq tosses my shirt at Cam’s chest. He catches it, then peers back at me.
“I intended to handle it myself,” he says as Roq barrels past and works his way down the ladder.
“I know how you would ‘handle’ it.” Roq’s gaze is level with the top floor, but he beams a warning at me. I nervously fiddle with the knot he tied around my waist and watch Cam. Instead of wadding up my blouse, or throwing it aside, he folds it up for later.
If there is a darkness inside of Cam, maybe only Roq brings it out.
“My lady, that harsh fabric does nothing for your tender skin. Let us get it off of you post haste.” Cam makes a move for the twine, but he doesn’t unknot it.
“And wear what instead?” I ask.
“Who said anything about replacing it?” He winks at me and catches the twine. With a laugh, he tugs it and me closer.
