Mine to Keep (NOLA Knights #3) - Rhenna Morgan Page 0,15

backpack in her lap and placed her hand in his.

His fingers closed around hers, the sheer size of his hand overwhelming and the heat of his touch sinfully potent.

He’s just helping you down. Not tugging you into bed, dumbass.

Maybe not. But damn, the contact felt good. So did the crackling power that radiated off him.

He tugged her forward, and she put one foot on the running board. She shifted to step the rest of the way down and the backpack she’d completely forgotten slipped off her lap. She grabbed for it, knocking her whole body off center, and her foot slipped.

The next thing she knew, she had both feet on the ground and was nearly plastered shoulders to hips against Roman, one of his arms firm around her waist and his free hand holding her backpack.

“Easy, malen’kaya koroleva.” The hand he had planted low on her spine skated upward, making every nerve ending in its wake come alive. “Take a moment.”

A moment? As rock solid as he was, the only thing keeping her from wrapping her arms around his torso and hanging on for dear life was good old-fashioned mortification. And he smelled delicious, too. A mix of some sexy soap or cologne, freshly starched shirt and one-hundred percent man.

Good grief, how long had it been since she’d gotten laid?

Seven months, twenty days and roughly sixteen hours. Right before you found out that last asshole charged up your one credit card.

She cleared her throat and firmed her shaking hands against his chest, grateful the truck’s door had blocked most of her clumsy exit. “Sorry about that.” Taking a shaky step back, she hazarded a look at his face.

Focus.

Pure concentrated focus.

All of it lasered firmly on her.

And not like he was annoyed either. More like he was struggling to understand something that eluded him.

Um, yeah. Probably trying to figure out what the hell possessed Cassie to hang out with you.

Bonnie held out her hand toward her backpack. “I got it.”

He stayed perfectly still, his study of her so intent it was all she could do not to fidget.

She reached for the bag and tugged it from his hand. Or tried to, for all the good it did her. “Seriously. I’m good.”

He nodded, though it looked like he was answering some internal dialogue rather than agreeing with her claim. A second later, he stepped back and motioned her forward, but kept her backpack. “After you.”

Two steps out from behind the truck door, the cold January air and a trio of curious stares hit her all at once. The men in particular seemed shocked and agog. Though, they schooled their expressions quick enough when Roman moved in closer to Bonnie’s side and pressed a hand to the small of her back.

Cassie noted the action, too, and a sly smile crept onto her face. She moved in close to Bonnie’s free side as soon as they were close enough. “You okay?”

“Depends. Does being embarrassed as hell count?” She slowed as soon as the backyard came into view. “Holy cow. That’s a whoppin’ sight if I ever saw one.”

The pool wasn’t an Olympic size by any stretch, but it also wasn’t a tiny thing either. Laid out in a simple rectangle, there were neatly trimmed hedges, fancy sculptures and flowers that probably shouldn’t even be alive this time of the year surrounding it.

“I know, right?” Cassie said, urging Bonnie toward the raised patio with its stone balustrade and fancy outdoor furniture. “When we get over this cold snap, we’re having some friends from Dallas down for a barbecue. You should come.”

Roman and the other men fell back a few steps and let the two of them go head.

Bonnie lowered her voice. “Ease up there, missy. I’m pushing my social quota just stepping foot in this neighborhood. Plus, I’m pretty sure your idea of a barbecue and mine are polar opposites.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Cassie paused long enough for Roman to open the door for them both. “If yours involve beer, a ton of food and men beating their chests for most of the afternoon, then we’re probably pretty close.”

Hmm. That did sound like a normal barbecue. They probably had those fancy IPA or imported beers and ate steaks instead of on-sale, pre-made patties from Walmart, though.

Rather than follow them in, the two men lingered outside on the patio. Which was kind of insane, because the kitchen that greeted them was big enough to house a whole football team without anyone touching shoulders. Warm taupe walls