Page 86 of Why Cheese?
“Holy shit, holy shit. Oh my god, I can’t believe—!”
My phone rings, deflating me in an instant. “Hi, Mom,” I mumble and twist the lock four more times.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Parmesan Problems
A MONTH AND a half flew by in a blink. My days were spent greeting customers, ringing up cheeses, and answering questions. After a few weeks, my palms stopped sweating every time I made change, and I even got a few chuckles for my cheese puns. Even though walking the floor selling off decadent and discounted cheeses wore me down by the day, my body would vibrate in anticipation of nightfall.
I’d scoop up my latest dinner, or pull the delivery from the oven, lock the front door, and wait. The closer we drew to summer, the more excruciating the waiting became. Every day it took a few more minutes until the basement door flew open and four men greeted me with smiles.
Something had changed with them too. Brie’s sun paintings hung all around in the basement, lightening the dour cellar. Cheddy would drop his work—literally—to sit with me, slyly asking how I was doing. Well, as slyly as Cheddy could do anything. Okay, not much changed with Cam—who was as smooth as ever. But Roq…
Where do I even begin with Roq?
He’d eat up in the store with all of us, even telling the occasional joke over a plate of pasta. They were confusing and I needed Cam to explain later, but Roq smiled with each one. While he’d spend most of his night making more cheese, he didn’t devote all of his hours to it.
In fact, Mondays became date night. A moonlit picnic in the park, a walk to the new art gallery twenty blocks over, a movie. That was an interesting experience. I hadn’t thought much of suggesting we catch a show. It wasn’t like they didn’t have movies twenty years ago. But the moment the men sat down and the screen faded from black, they hollered, cheered, and shouted for the entire three hours. Thank god we were the only ones catching a ten p.m. showing of the latest generic action flick. Of course, when Cam wasn’t cajoling the good guys with the rest of them, he’d pull me across my seat until I was nearly on his lap.
Every night I’d try to stick it out with them as long as possible. And every night but Monday, I’d crash before one a.m. That’s when one of the men would ‘help me’ to my room. I didn’t get to sleep until two or three in the morning.
Forty days left.
I’m exhausted, I’m happy.
I need a break.
But…
I twist the chalk in my fingers, doing my best to not glare a hole through the number. I’d started counting them down from ninety as a promise to myself. Ninety days until I’m rich and back home. With fifty gone, I…I don’t know what I want. Home seemed like another planet. What’s back there for me anyway? Certainly not—
“Mmm.” Cam draws his nose along the nape of my neck and breathes in. “New perfume?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“I can’t quite place it.” He nuzzles my throat, his deep breaths tickling me. I giggle and brush my fingers through his hair. “Sweet, but also spicy. With a bouquet of wildflowers and…” He nips my shoulder right next to my dress’ strap. “Musk.”
“I’m not wearing anything,” I tell him, a giggle rising.
In one fast swoop, he twists me around like a music box ballerina. The second I fear I’m going to fall, Cam drapes his hand on the small of my back, catching me. “Neither am I,” he snickers and dips me with a kiss.
“Cam, how’s the…?” Roq slips around the corner, catching us in a half-lewd act. With a sigh, he taps his clipboard on the counter and watches. “Are you finished?”
Jamming a hand to his hip, Cam stares Roq up and down. “I know you don’t considerthisfinishing, For.”
The tops of Roq’s cheeks turn pink and he looks away. “We have a lot of work to do. The soft cheeses…”
“Are rock hard at the moment,” Cam says with a cheeky grin. He bends down and pulls up his pants. “Ooh, and difficult to tuck away.”
“Mind the zipper,” Brie calls from his easel. He’s been working on a painting to put in the window. This one’s a still life of various cheeses while a huge sunset streaks across the sky behind them.
“I caught myself in one once,” Cheddy says. “Every tooth bit into tender flesh. Which wasn’t as unpleasant an experience as I’d expected.”
“Chedward,” Cam chides him. “Save your nefarious kinks for Monday when we have the time to explore them. Otherwise, you’re just being a tease.”
“Sorry,” Cheddy calls with a wave. He drops a huge wheel of cheddar onto the counter and starts to slice it with a ten-inch knife. The blade whirls so fast, I can barely trail it before a dozen perfect wedges rest on wax paper.
“Now that I’m trussed up—” Cam draws his palm up the tent in his trousers. “—what has yours in a knot? Mice in the larder?”
