Roman's Choice (Saddles & Second Chances Book 1) (10 page)

Snapping her chin up, she found Roman standing in the doorway. He looked good enough to eat in his sleeveless flannel and worn jeans. His hat was pushed back on his forehead, exposing his crystal blue eyes and hair-peppered jaw. “You weren’t supposed to see this. I thought you’d be working.”

“I’m taking a break.” He strolled to the island and stopped, looking down at the floor. “Is that a new rug?”

She laughed. “No, that’s Bojangles—washed and brushed.” The dog rolled onto his back as if he wanted to show off his clean fur.

“Well, well, Bojangles. You talked the lady into giving you a bath and allowing you in the house. I always knew you had it in you. Now, about this…” He slid his finger through the flour-coated counter.

“I managed to get some flour into the bowl, but I don’t think that’s the problem.” She picked at the slimy blob.

He chuckled. “What are you making?”

“Crust for a pie,” she admitted, feeling her cheeks warm.

“I’ve never made one myself, but I do know the butter is supposed to be chilled first.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve never made one before either.”

She gave her head a shake. “That obvious?”

“Commendable effort, sweetheart.

“Wasted effort,” she moaned. “It might take me a bit longer to get the hang at cooking. Let’s hope the stew doesn’t burn.”

“If all fails, I have freezer bags of homemade chili we can defrost.” He rounded the island. “Do you know how to use the microwave?”

“Yes, I can use the microwave.” She picked up a pinch of flour from the bowl and tossed it at him.

“Hey!” He laughed, swiping his hand across the island and then sweeping his fingers across her cheek.

“Oh, that’s how you play, huh?” Dipping her hand into the glass jar, she grabbed up a handful of flour, and tossed it at him. The flour splattered all over his face and down the front of his shirt.

“You’re going to get it now.” He slid his fingers into a bowl of butter, smearing it all over his palm. “I hear butter makes your hair prettier.”

She took a step back, holding up her hands in surrender. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t? Sweetheart, if you think I won’t, then you don’t know me very well.” He strolled two steps closer and she backed up, rounding the island, still facing him.

“Okay, I’m sorry about the flour, but at least it’ll swipe right off. Here, try this.” She grabbed the damp cloth from the counter and tossed it him. He caught it and laid it back down.

“Too late, darlin’.” He rushed forward and snatched one arm around her waist, holding the butter inches from her face, so close that she could smell the creamy richness.

She laughed as she pressed her hands against his chest, pushing, but only slightly. He teased her, but he didn’t do as he had threatened. Instead, he lowered his face to hers. “There’s something I couldn’t stop thinking of since I woke up.” He pulled her against his body.

“Yeah? I’d like to hear exactly what that is.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing when he nuzzled her cheek with his chin.

“My pleasure. You look hot covered in flour.” He pressed his mouth to hers, slipping his tongue between the seam of her lips and parting them.

She opened to him, loving that he’d stopped by to reward her with his touch.

Then she felt a vibration in his pants.

“Now that’s a new feeling,” she said.

“Sorry. Probably one of my brothers with a question.”

“Then by all means, answer it. I’ll start cleaning.”

She’d just started wiping the counter down when a knock came on the front door. She looked at Roman who was busily explaining the details of a project to the person on the other end of the line and didn’t seem to notice. Uncertain of what she should do, she finally decided just to accept her role.

Pulling open the door, a camera flash blinded her. She brought her hand up to shield her eyes when another flash came.

“What the hell! This is private property.” Roman was beside her, gently pushing her back as he darted onto the porch, grabbing the man with the camera by the shirt collar and pressing him against the railing.

“Oops, please, let’s not let things get out of hand.” A neatly attired woman stepped beside Roman, trying to wedge herself between him and the pale-faced, wide-eyed man who was clinging to his camera with one hand and attempting to push Roman away with the other. “Pippa? Do you remember me?” The woman looked over Roman’s shoulder, her dark eyes pleading.

“Calista Donavon from the Chronicle Post?” She’d met her once at a charity event.

“Yes. It’s me. Can you call off your bodyguard, please?” There was a slight tremor to the woman’s voice.

“You know these people?” Roman shot her a questioning glance, his eyes deep in color.

“Yes, I do. Please let go of the poor man. I think you’ve scared him enough.” Although she didn’t like being blinded by the flash, she didn’t want Roman to smash the man. Most men would be frightened of a man Roman’s size, and the cameraman certainly didn’t try to deny his fear.

“I’m sorry just to show up like this,” Calista explained. “Your manager said you were interested in speaking with me for a write-up on your new book. He said he’d take care of the arrangements.”

“I get poor phone service out here,” Pippa mumbled. And she hadn’t checked her emails in a while.

Calista’s gaze skimmed Pippa. “Looks like this marriage thing suits you. Your complexion is rosy and is that flour?” She rubbed her finger over Pippa’s shoulder, wiping away some of the white residue.

“Oh, yes. I’m making a pie.” And wearing more flour than was in the bowl. “You said you want an interview?”

“We’ve all heard about the marriage.” The woman dropped her gaze over Roman and smiled broadly. “Now I see why you were in a hurry to snag your cowboy.”

Roman still had a sharp edge to his jaw, but he’d released the man who was now swiping the wrinkles out of his shirt.

“Yeah, when you’re in love, why wait.” Pippa chuckled and wrapped her arm around Roman’s waist, feeling his muscles ease some.

“Will you answer a few questions? I promise they will be painless. People want to hear more about this relationship you’ve sprung on us. And you, Roman Jericho, are stirring up interest too. Relationship expert and rodeo star. Now that’s a combination worthy of a story.” She winked.

“Ex rodeo-star,” Roman mumbled.

Calista didn’t acknowledge him. “And you said you’re making a pie? Can we grab a couple of photos of you working in the kitchen? Ten minutes and we’ll be out of your hair, unlike the flour.”

Pippa looked up at Roman, wanting his agreement, and he smiled. “Yes, sweetheart. You should show off that wonderful pie you were in the middle of preparing with those purty little hands.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.

Camera. Interview. Pie. Everything disappeared on the breeze as something warm and perplexing grew in the pit of her stomach. She could have easily forgotten they had company, until Calista cleared her throat. Pippa forced her brain back on track. “I’m afraid it’s not quite done. The pie.”

“That’s okay. No problem. We just want to get a couple of shots, not the entire baking process. It’s not a cooking article, after all.” Calista was already heading toward the door with the cameraman close behind, but walking a wide circle around Roman.

“Okay, fine. I don’t see a problem with that.”

“Imagine the readers once they realize how in love you two are. It’s obvious.” Calista tapped her pen on her notebook. She stepped inside of the house and gave the living room a quick inspection. “Before we get started, will you tell us how you two lovebirds met?”

“Where we met?” Pippa croaked.

“Don’t be coy, darlin’. She’s a little shy when it comes to talking about that day.” Roman seemed as comfortable as a pig in a blanket. “She showed up at a rodeo event wearing the cutest pair of shorts and smile I’d ever seen. I took one look at her and knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that this woman was going to be my wife. It was written in the cards for us.”

Pippa melted into the wooden planks. She leaned into him, caught up in his words and the feeling building between her thighs. She needed to get control of herself before she gave Calista something very interesting to write about.

“Pippa, any new keys to a successful marriage now that you’re married yourself?”

She weeded through the clustered paths of her brain. How could she be expected to think at a moment like this? “Have fun learning each other. An exploration of mind and heart.”

“And in bed too?” Calista brazenly asked.

Pippa smiled. “I did marry a cowboy, didn’t I?”

Calista fanned her face with her notebook. “Are all of your brothers single, Roman?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She jotted a note. “Maybe you’ll introduce me.” One corner of her mouth quivered.

“Make my wife look as special as she is in your article and that can be arranged.”

As they started for the kitchen, Pippa grabbed Roman’s hand and held him back, whispering, “You totally have her wrapped around your finger. Now I see why all of the women want to get to know you better.”

He turned to her, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “There’s only one that I want to get to know better. Let’s hurry and get Calista and her shadow out of here so we can work on that very thing.”

“I like that idea.”

CHAPTER TEN

PIPPA SNUGGLED DEEPER into the warm cocoon of the blanket and stretched her legs, her toes bumping something at the end of the bed. Opening one eye to a slit, she saw that Roman’s side of the bed was empty. The sun was up outside and considering he left the house at daybreak, he should have been long gone. Closing her eye, she attempted to drift back to sleep and into a dream of her adoring husband wrapping his arms around her…

The springs in the bed squeaked as the bump at the bottom of the bed shifted.

Coming to a sitting position, Pippa bit back a scream.

Sitting at the end of the bed was a little girl with dark hair and pale blue eyes—the Jericho blue eyes. Pippa blinked and rubbed her eyes. “Umm…hi.”

“You’re the lady who married my Uncle Ro?”

“Yes and you’re Roman’s niece, Brie.”

She nodded and her lopsided pig-tails bobbed. “That’s me. Daddy told me you moved in.”

Pippa realized she was only wearing a bra and panties and pulled the sheet back up to her shoulders. “Does your daddy know that you’re here?”

With a quick shake of her head, one of the tails slipped further and the hair band fell out. “No, he’s working. My sitter fell asleep again. I was bored. There’s nothin’ to do.”

Pippa sat up straighter. “Do you get bored often?”

“Sometimes.” She tossed something shiny up in the air and caught it with her other hand. “Do you?”

“Not often.” Pippa smiled. “What do you have there?”

“My good luck marble.” She held up the colorful globe proudly.

“That’s very pretty. I used to play with marbles when I was a kid. I had a favorite that was called a cat’s eye.”

Brie’s eyes widened. “A cat’s eye?” Her bottom lip puckered.

“It wasn’t a real eye. It only looked similar to a cat’s eye.” Silence grew between them as they stared at one another, sizing each other up. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

“I had eggs, but I’m hungry.” She shoved the marble into her front pocket.

“I tell you what. How about I get up, fix you breakfast, and give your uncle a call to let him know you’re okay. We wouldn’t anyone to worry.”

With a nod of agreement, Brie bounced off the bed and onto her sandaled feet. “Want this?” She grabbed the robe from the chair and held it out.

“Yes, thank you.” Pippa accepted it. While the girl busied herself looking through Pippa’s make up and spritzing the perfume, she slipped from the bed, pulled on the robe and tightened the belt.

“This is pretty.” Brie held up a tube of lipstick. “Can I put some on?”

“Hmm, I don’t think that’s your color, but I do have something that you might like.” Pippa rummaged through her bag and found pale lip gloss. “Here you go. It’s new and a perfect shade for your pretty skin tone.” The little girl’s eyes lit up and she took the offering, uncapping the tube and applying it across her lips. Pippa’s heart tugged, remembering that Roman had told her that the little girl’s mom had left when Brie was a baby. “Yup, just what I thought. A perfect shade for your complexion. Now how about we find something to eat. I’m starving.”

Together they stepped into the hallway and Brie slipped her tiny hand into Pippa’s. She’d taken an instant liking to the little girl and was amazed at how much she looked like Roman—the entire Jericho family. Downstairs, Pippa found frozen pancakes and popped them into the microwave while Brie sipped hot chocolate. Pippa dialed Roman’s number. He answered immediately.

“Hi, Roman. Is anyone missing a little girl?”

“I’m missing a woman. But if you want to call yourself a little girl…”

“No, silly. I had an unexpected visitor show up this morning. Brie.”