Chapter 20
“I ’m glad you brought Cruz,” Brenda said as she chopped tomatoes for a salsa. “Gosh, he’s taller than I thought. He’s a hottie.”
“Mm-hmm.” Rosie pressed her lips together. Hot didn’t begin to describe Cruz. A walking mountain of muscle and fierceness, soaked in sexual dominance and drizzled with secret sweetness? That might be a start.
“Girl, you’re blushing.” Brenda bumped shoulders with Rosie.
A soft giggle slipped past Rosie’s lips. “He’s just so…” she shook her head. “I don’t have the right words. He’s just amazing.”
Brenda pinned her with a fess up look. “Have you guys…ya know…”
“Mm-hmm,” Rosie repeated, feeling her cheeks go crimson.
“Oh my god! Yes!” Brenda now bumped her hip into Rosie’s. “Good for you, girl.”
Rosie gazed out the window over the sink at Cruz talking with his buddies. The guys on the road crew were all in shape, but even among them, Cruz seemed bigger and more muscular. “He’s nothing like I expected. Not that I knew what to expect. He’s kind of dangerous, and he’s strong and in charge, but sweet too.”
“I guessed the sweet part, if he’s willing to be drafted into royalty duty with my two,” Brenda said. “I’m happy he’s good to you. You look happy.”
Rosie smiled. She was happy. As much as her life would let her. Her secret stood between her and honest, true happiness like an invisible fence, threatening to shock her if she dared cross it. But for today, this weekend, or however long things with Cruz would last like this…she’d be happy. “We might leave early,” she murmured to Brenda.
“Oh?” Brenda dumped her tomatoes into a bowl. “Oh. It’s like that.”
“It’s like that.”
“Shoot girl, I can’t blame you.”
Rosie worked on her potato salad and remembered how Cruz had touched her just a short while ago. His hand on her butt…just thinking about it made her bite her lip. Tonight she had plans for an impromptu outing she doubted he’d been on before. She glanced up again, not seeing him in the circle of chairs with Julio and Carter. But the two guys were laughing, as they looked to—
“Oh my gosh!” Rosie pointed at the window with her mayonnaise-covered spoon.
“Oh no. Those two…” Brenda covered her mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to stifle a giggle.
“Oh my ….” Rosie could only stare at Cruz, who was in the “castle,” as the girls had dubbed the back of their yard. Their playhouse was there, with a “moat” made of seashells bought from the dollar store. An old sheet that they’d painted hung as a backdrop. It started as a mountain scene, but had quickly become a hazy blur of pink and purple sparkly paint.
A kid-size table and chairs sat in front of the moat, and Cruz was about to lower his big frame onto a tiny pink plastic chair. Ariel had a teapot and tea cups in hand.
“I don’t know if I should laugh or rescue him,” Brenda said, hand still over her mouth.
“Your girls are tenacious. I vote for rescue before he ends up with a tiara.” Rosie set her spoon down. “This is done, anyway. I’ll set it on the table.”
“Thank you. I’ll watch the princess show a little longer.” Brenda giggled. “Oh, and can you grab the extra plates and cups by the sliding door and bring them out?”
“Sure.” Rosie walked out of the kitchen into the adjacent family room. Next to the sliding glass door sat a table piled with plasticware. Rosie loaded the stacks of plates and cups in one arm, then reached for the silverware—
“—you see that man out there? Good Lord.”
The voice came from the living room at the front of the house, and Rosie froze, guessing it belonged to Carol Keplinger, one of Sundown’s residents.
“It’s too much. My Joe has his Navy tattoo and I get it and all, but that’s just one! Not all over.”
That would be Carol’s friend and neighbor, Marge.
“I know, and I can’t read that stuff. God knows what it says. And what they all mean. I heard he was in a gang in the city.”
Rosie didn’t move. Barely breathed. Carol and Marge must not realize she was there. Her ire spiked. How dare they?
“I heard he was in prison!” Marge dragged out the last word, saying it with palpable distaste. “For murder!”
“But he was released ‘cause they found out he really didn’t do it,” Carol went on. “But you know, they don’t just stick innocent people in prison. He had to have done something. You know?”
“Mmm-hmm, you’re right. I can’t believe Brenda invited him, and he’s just sitting right there like he’s a regular normal man.”
Carol sighed loudly. “I don’t like it.”
Rosie’s blood heated as the unfairness of their judgment slammed into her. No way. Cruz was a better man than any she had met. Her feet sprang into action, walking her to the arched doorway that opened to the living room. Carol was fixing a stray curl of poufed hair in front of a mirror on the wall, while Marge fanned herself with a magazine. They both turned surprised eyes on Rosie.
“Are you talking about Cruz?” Rosie forced calm into her voice.
“Why…” Carol turned to face her, looking only slightly guilty. “Hi, Rosie. You’re friends with him?”
Friends. Sure. That’s all these two needed to know. “Yes.”
“Well, we’re just kinda worried. I mean, for ten years he’s been in prison.”
“Serving time for something he didn’t do. He’s innocent.” Rosie glared.
Marge gave her a near-pitying look. “Oh sweetie, we know that’s what the papers say, but you can’t be too careful. Who knows what things he learned in jail? I bet he could kill a man with his bare hands.”
“Marge!” Even Carol looked aghast.
Rosie counted to ten in her mind because yeah, given what she’d seen of Cruz fighting, she wouldn’t be surprised.
She also never felt safer than when he was around. Confrontations weren’t her thing, but she couldn’t stand by and let Cruz be judged on his appearance and his past. She didn’t care if she came across as a bitch. “You two need to stop. He’s a good man who works his ass off on Palmer’s crew every day.”
Carol tilted her head. “Rosie…”
“Shane’s met him. Denver too.” She may as well toss that in. Shane was a living legend in Sundown. Everyone respected him. “Get to know a man before you start saying nasty things and spreading rumors.” She turned on her heel and walked out before she said anything more. She didn’t trust herself when she got emotional. She tended to talk way too much.
Carol and Marge didn’t deserve more of her time and words. Not now, at Brenda’s party where her two little princesses could only see Cruz as a prince.
Prince, knight, hero—all titles he would shun, but that in her mind, he wholeheartedly deserved. She blew out a breath as she stepped into the sunny yard. Country music played on the radio and all the guests had drinks in their hands. Uncle Steve was working at the gas grill. Rosie beelined for a rectangular table covered in a red and white checked cloth and set down her things. This day was going to be good, and tonight was going to be even better.
She wasn’t going to let the negative nellies get in the way. Hands now free, she threaded through the crowd, stopping by Julio and Carter, who sat smirking in the direction of the girls and Cruz. “Bet you two didn’t even try to help him out.”
“Hey, who am I to deny two little ladies?” Julio shrugged.
Carter just laughed. “This is some funny shit. And I had to do this last summer.”
“You did not, that was Matt who they kidnapped to play their game,” Julio shot back.
“And notice he’s not here this year.” Carter arched a brow.
“Well, I’m gonna rescue him,” Rosie said.
She walked past the jumble of other guests, some sitting, some standing. Ninety-nine percent of them she knew, and gave passing hellos and excuses as she neared the pretend castle.
Stepping close, she cleared her throat and put on her queen voice. “And what, pray tell, is going on, princesses?”
“Oh, oh! Aunt—I mean, Queen Rosie, look! A prince is visiting from a faraway land. We must let him stay with us,” Ariel said.
“It’s the rules,” Iris added.
“A faraway land?” Rosie tapped a finger on her chin. “Well, we must certainly be good hostesses and make him comfortable after his long journey.”
“He should get a big bed! A giant one!” Iris said. “The kind princes sleep in.”
Cruz arched a brow. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”
“Where’s your crown?” Iris demanded.
“I…left it at home.” Cruz pinned Rosie with heated eyes. “On my bed, I believe. My very big bed.”
“Of course.” Rosie’s cheeks warmed and she thanked the stars that the girls didn’t pick up on their carnal undercurrent. “Girls, princes don’t wear their crowns while traveling. They could fall off during battle with evil swordsmen or get lost in the dangerous woods.”
“That’s okay, we have extras!” Ariel exclaimed, and ducked into the play house.
“Do you have a horse? Iris asked dreamily. “I want a horse but Mommy says they eat too much.”
Cruz gave the four-year-old such a serious and patient look that Rosie wanted to melt. “I do. He’s big and black and eats a ton.”
“Here you go!” Ariel burst out of the tiny purple door, brandishing a silver tiara. “It has the least sparkles on it, because you’re a boy. We don’t have any boy crowns.” She held it aloft.
Rosie was sure she planned to stick it on Cruz’s head. “Princess Ariel, that is very kind of you. But perhaps our visitor would like food and drink first. He’s had a long journey.”
“He can eat and wear a crown at the same time,” Ariel said.
Rosie knew that determined expression. Someone was going to end up wearing the crown and she wasn’t going to make Cruz suffer that fate. “May I wear it? I will need your expertise to attach it to my tresses.”
“Okay!” Ariel shouted.
“What are tresses?” Iris asked.
“It’s her long, beautiful hair.” Ariel very seriously grabbed a couple glittery hair clips. “Queen Rosie, you must sit down so I can put your crown on.”
Rosie sat in the tiny chair across the plastic table from Cruz. Slate blue eyes regarded her with a mix of humor, hunger, and something else she couldn’t put her finger on.
“You’re a natural, Queen Rosie,” he murmured softly. “And you have good timing.”
Tiny fingers worked on her hair. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“I think you should be a king instead of a prince.” Iris crowded close to Cruz and leaned on his shoulder. “Then you can marry Queen Rosie. No one married her yet.”
Rosie coughed and wanted to crawl under her chair.
Cruz raised a brow at her and then looked seriously at Iris. “Is that so?”
“Nope.” Iris shook her blond curls. “You can do it.”
Oh my god. Mortification didn’t begin to describe this.
With a last push on the tiara, Ariel finished. “Yes! Let’s make him a king and then we can have a royal wedding!”
Rosie’s eyes widened. “Oh, my goodness. That is…”
Cruz grinned. “And here all I thought I was gettin’ was a comfortable bed. Didn’t know there was more.”
“You need a white dress and a very special crown,” Ariel said.
“And a veil that’s as long as the yard!” Iris shrieked.
Rosie could see the wheels in the girls’ heads turning. Oh, boy. This wasn’t how she expected today’s make-believe adventure to go. “Princesses, the king and I shall have dinner now. We will discuss your idea. But please remember, these arrangements take a long time.”
“Okaaay.” Both girls dragged out the word, somehow managing to combine their disappointment at play time ending and excitement at a pending wedding all into one word.
Cruz rose from his tiny pink chair and offered his arm. “May I escort you to the banquet table, my lady?”
“Ooohhhh,” Iris sighed.
“That would be delightful, kind sir.” Rosie stood and took his arm. Her body hummed with a mix of mortification from him being subjected to the girls’ whims, and wanting to collapse into a fit of giggles. And being completely turned on by the touch of his skin on hers. “Oh my goodness,” she whispered as they walked away.
“I never thought two tiny girls could be so determined.” His voice rumbled all around her. He released her hand only to slide his around her waist and pull her close.
She turned to gaze up into those slate blue eyes, embarrassment over the girls’ arranged marriage idea quickly morphing into pure delight that she was here with the sexiest, strongest man she’d ever met and he was treating her like, well, a princess. “I had to rescue you before you ended up with a crown or something pink.”
He glanced at the tiara on her head. “It’s better on you.” Abruptly his hand tightened on her hip and he stopped them on the lawn. “But your cowboy hat would look even better.”
She sucked in a breath, wanting nothing more than to leave this party right now. “Umm.” Yeah, he liked her hat. Memories of the raw hunger in his eyes when she’d shown it to him rushed back. She still couldn’t believe she had this effect on him, when he was the one unraveling every logical thought she ever had. “You’re bad,” she whispered.
“And you’re sexy,” he rumbled into her ear. “Let’s eat so we can get the hell out of here. And get to your secret plan.”
Oh god, her plan for later. That made her hot all over again. “Okay.” Why did he undo her so badly that all she could manage was one syllable words?
He was an irresistible force. A storm she’d walk into and gladly get herself soaked to the bone. No other way to explain it. Somehow, he’d gotten under her skin and she knew she’d never be the same.