lori king rough ride romeo (6 page)

circle, so she was hoping she wouldn’t be caught up in it. It was Drannon who

broke the tension by changing the subject.

“So how long will it take you to fix Hal, Vin?” Drannon asked, draping one

long arm on the back of Lacy’s chair.

“At least a week. I had to order parts in from Sioux Falls. You know how

slow the mail can be.” Vin answered. “Franki you’d better make yourself

comfortable for the long haul.”

The reminder that she was here for a purpose, and now had no way to fulfill

her mission fil ed her with a sick feeling. Vivi was suffering through God knows

what, while she was joking and firting with a table full of ranchers. It was

disrespectful, and guilt swamped her, stealing her appetite.

To her relief, Hawke once again diverted the conversation away from her.

“So Lacy, I hear you picked out the wedding colors.”

Lacy nodded her head making her long red braid bounce against her

shoulder, “Cream and lavender, but not the dark lavender. It’s more of a shade of

lilac.”

“I’m not wearing purple.” Drannon said, shoving a bite of food into his

mouth and wrinkling his nose at his fiancé.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, “No you’re not. You’re wearing

cream. Vin is the one wearing lavender.”

“What?” The word burst from Vin like a vehicle backfiring, and Franki

laughed along with the rest of the group. “The hell I am!”

“Oh come on, Vinnie! It’s just for a few hours, and it’s just the vest. You’ll be

wearing a gray tux over it, so it wil barely be noticeable.” Lacy said, turning her

eyes up at the rough looking man, and batting her lashes dramatically.

“No.” he said firmly, shaking his head.

“Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Drannon!”

Franki was sure that if Lacy had been standing she would have stomped her

foot in frustration. The redhead’s pale features were pink with irritation, and they

matched the fush in Drannon’s cheeks. It seemed the big man was particularly

offended by her choice of wedding colors.

“You’re not going to convince me, baby. I love you but I can’t make the man

wear purple for you.” Drannon said, hugging Lacy to his side and kissing her

temple. The gesture seemed to ease her upset, and she finally sighed.

“Okay, then you can wear cream too I suppose, but you’re both wearing a

purple fower in your boutonniere.”

Simultaneously the two brothers said, “Deal.” And then exchanged wide

grins.

Franki was beginning to see Lacy’s point about the testosterone saturation on

the ranch, as she listened to the men banter back and forth. They sounded like

they were a real family, but none of them looked alike, and Hawke had

introduced himself with a last name that was different from Roman’s.

“So are you all family?” she finally asked as everyone finished their meal.

“Yep.” Drannon answered with a nod and a look of pride. “We’re not blood,

but we’re family.”

She waited for more of an explanation, looking to Roman curiously. When

he just winked at her, she frowned back and asked, “Are any of you blood?”

“Nope, foster brothers.” Hawke explained, filling in the informational gap.

“We all came to Crawley Creek as foster kids, and never left. A few years ago we

went in together and bought the ranch from Abe, our dad.”

“Oh? So did he move?” she regretted her words when a heavy silence filled

the room.

“He died last year.” Roman said softly. His face had gone gray, but his

beautiful hazel eyes looked void of all emotion. “Heart attack.”

“I’m so sorry. I lost my mom four years ago. It never gets easier.” She didn’t

know what else she could say to fix her gaff. Clearly they were all still mourning

their father’s death, and she’d just thrown it back in their faces. Turning to

Marilyn, she forced a smile to her face, “Thank you for the lovely meal. I’m sorry,

but I’m just plain exhausted from my time on the bike the last couple of days.

Would it be terribly rude if I crashed early tonight?”

“Of course not, dear. There are extra towels in the bathroom across the hal

from your room, and tomorrow, I’l start serving breakfast around six in the

morning, but don’t rush. I can always warm you up something later.” The kind

woman patted her hand, and smiled sweetly as Franki rose.

“It’s nice to meet al of you. I’m sure I’ll see you all around tomorrow.”

Before anyone could delay her further, she walked quickly out of the dining room

and up the stairs. She barely made it into the bathroom before the heavy guilt

brought the small amount she’d eaten back up. Miserable, sad, and regrettably

lonely, she let herself cry as she sat on the bathroom foor.

Tears slid down her cheeks, but she couldn’t have said who or what she

actually cried for. Some of them were for her sister and the hell she was surely

facing, while others were just for her own circumstances, and the confusion that

tied her body into knots every time she was in the same room as Roman. A

stranger to her, and yet when he was near, she seemed to be just as much a

stranger to herself. Perhaps she’d be better off at the Motel 8 down the highway a

bit.

Chapter 7

Roman was concerned for Franki’s wellbeing. Or at least that’s what he kept

repeating in his head as he climbed the stairs and walked directly to the door

marked Sunfower Room. She’d looked pale when she skipped out of dinner

early, and he just wanted to check on her.

Rolling his eyes as he stared at the wooden door, he scoffed silently at his

own thoughts. The truth was that he wanted to see her again, and perhaps

question her about what’d happened between them earlier. It was clear there was

attraction on both their parts, but she didn’t seem happy about it.

Lifting his hand, he knocked softly and held his breath until the door

opened. The lamp was on behind her, and it gave her a soft glow as she frowned

up at him. Her beautiful hair was down again, and it curled wildly around her

face and shoulders. Bare shoulders. She wore some sort of stretchy material over

her breasts that left her shoulders and soft belly bare down to where a pair of low

rise shorts clung to her curvy hips. Seeing all that bare skin made his knees weak,

and he leaned heavily against the door jamb.

“Roman?” she crossed her arms over her bare midriff and took a step

backwards. “I thought you were Marilyn. Is everything okay?”

When he tried to speak, his voice came out as a croak, and he had to clear

his throat and start again. “No. I mean, yes...I mean, everything is fine. I just

wanted to check on you. You ran out of dinner so quickly, and you looked a

little…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you again.”

He wanted to kick his own ass for his rambling. Never in his life had a

woman made him this off balance. Charm was his game, and he played it well, so

why was he suddenly unsure of himself ?

“I’m okay, just really tired. The road trip version of jet lag I guess. Thank

you for checking on me.” She said, giving him a small smile. She reached for the

door, but then hesitated and glanced over her shoulder at the interior of the

bedroom as if unsure of her next move, too. The light washed over her face and

he noticed tear tracks on her cheeks and a slight puffiness to her eyes. His

stomach clenched and before he could stop himself, he took her into his arms,

delighting in the softness of her curves against him.

“I don’t know what made you cry, Franki, sugar, but please let me help you

fix it,” he said into the hair on the crown of her head. Her palms were fat against

his chest, but she wasn’t pushing him away. She just stood there in the circle of his

arms, muscles taut. She reminded him of a doe on the verge of feeing a threat.

“I’m fine, Roman, I swear. I just needed a good cry I guess.”

He kept holding her, expecting her to resist, but the longer they stood there,

the more she sunk into him, and he couldn’t seem to let go. “Why? Was it talking

about your mom?”

“I—” Again a weighty pause ensued, and he held his breath. “It’s family

problems, but it isn’t my mom. I’ve grieved plenty for her. Listen, I can’t really

explain right now. Suffice it to say I’m under a lot of stress.”

His fingers were stroking up and down the line of her spine, enjoying the

softness of her bare skin this time. She was delicate. Like Sera’s fine china that

still sat in the china hutch. He could feel the hairline cracks in her suit of armor

and he wanted to shatter it so that he could see what was underneath.

At the thought of something underneath his cock hardened, and she

instantly took notice, pulling back.

“Roman, I can’t do this. What happened earlier was a mistake. I was half

asleep and didn’t… I don’t even know you.” She put a few feet between them, her

arms once again wrapping tightly around her midsection covering up the tiny

jewel that glinted in her navel.

“What is there to know? I’m twenty-nine, a Taurus, I like riding horses,

playing video games, drinking beer, and you.”

Her eyes narrowed and she cocked her hip. “Really? That’s the pick-up line

you’re going with? Well, forgive me if I don’t fall to my knees and praise God for

my good fortune. I think I’ll pass.”

“You have a thing against Taurus?” he teased, growing more and more

irritated at her rejection.

“No, it has nothing to do with your zodiac sign,” she huffed, and leaned

against the door. “Honestly, I’m not going to be sticking around here much

longer, and I have way too much on my plate to consider adding a fing in. I need

to be focused on finding my sister and not—”

Roman’s ears perked up. “Finding? What do you mean finding your sister? Is

she lost?”

Instantly the blood drained out of Franki’s face and she seemed to shrink

into herself in front of him. “I-I didn’t mean that. Slip of the tongue. What I

meant to say—”

He glared at her, and this time it was him crossing his arms defiantly. “Don’t

lie to me. I can help you if you’ll let me, but you can’t lie to me. What did you

mean when you said you needed to find your sister? What’s happened to her?”

Franki was trembling, and his ire fizzled as his need to protect her grew.

Taking her arm, he stepped into the room and pulled her to the bed making her

take a seat. Lowering himself to his knees in front of her, he took her chin in his

hand. “Franki, tell me.”

“She’s gone. Goat took her, and he’s making her into a whore.”

The words were so horrendous he had to play them through his head twice

before he accepted what she’d said. “Who is Goat?”

“Her boyfriend. I guess her pimp now. She met him online, one of those

quick dating sites, and she fell head over heels for him. Then a few weeks ago

they both just vanished. Everything in her place was gone.”

“So what makes you think he took her? And why do you think he’s her…

pimp?” The word tasted bad on his tongue, but the churning in his gut was more

for Franki’s heartache than anything else.

“She called me.” Reaching over to the bedside table she picked up her

phone, and fipped it on. “From a phone she stole from a client.” The way she

said the term made it clear what she meant, and Roman wanted to vomit.

“What did she say exactly?”

“He drugged her, and took her out of state. She said they’d been traveling all

over the place never staying in one location more than a few days. He was taking

her to these houses where other women were, and like her they were al forced

to…well, you know.” She finched, and shook her head, “She’d seen a newspaper,

that’s how she knew she was in Montford. The phone ran out of minutes before I

could get more information. All I know is she’s out there somewhere being forced

into prostitution, and I have to help her.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Franki instantly felt a wave of relief wash over her as she spilled out the

whole sordid tale to Roman. It was like someone had just lifted the weight from

her back and she could finally stand straight again. He seemed shell-shocked by

her words, but he didn’t doubt her for a second. In fact his first reaction was to

insist they call the Montford Sheriff and report everything.

“They won’t help me.” She protested.

“How can you say that? You met Bran this morning, and he helped you.”

She snorted, “Sure, he helped me, but it was obvious in that situation that I

was the victim of an accident. Why would he believe me anymore than the

detectives in St. Paul did when I first reported this crime? No one wants to believe

that there are people out there heinous enough to kidnap a woman and force her

into prostitution.”

Roman began pacing, and she felt the loss of his presence at her side acutely.

In a matter of hours she’d somehow become dependent on his support. Sure, it

had been years since she’d had anyone to rely on in a time of crisis, but that

didn’t mean a stranger was the right person to pick for the job. Stiffening her