Mine to Keep (NOLA Knights #3) - Rhenna Morgan Page 0,53

catch phrase Anton used to preach to us? The one on assumptions?”

Roman chuckled, the rants their former vor had harped on insistently easily coming to mind. “‘Assumptions are the enemy. They will either cost you money, or get you killed.’”

“Yes, that’s it.” Smirking, Kir inclined his head. “You might want to remember that, my friend.”

Roman frowned. “In what regard?”

“Bonnie. She might want nothing to do with the things her blood family does, but they are different people driven by different goals. Perhaps you should let her choose how she feels about our family rather than make the decision for her.”

Roman held completely still. Didn’t so much as move a muscle outwardly. But his heart jolted at the thought.

His family was nothing like what they’d learned of Bonnie’s. His family had honor. Operated from their own set of rules and in the best interest of those around them. Innocents were protected at all cost.

But that didn’t address how reserved she’d been around him. How, while she’d opened up in general, she still kept a respectful distance. “She still hasn’t shown interest. She’s just now getting comfortable around everyone. Why would I jeopardize that with my own selfish actions?”

Kir smiled at that. “Just because she hasn’t shown interest doesn’t mean it’s not there. From what Cassie’s told me, Bonnie’s had few, if any, teachers in her life. Perhaps she doesn’t know what to do or how to make her interest known.” He shrugged and turned toward the hallway, but offered one last parting remark. “In either case, moy brat—assumption is still the enemy.”

Chapter Twelve

Off work at ten o’clock at night on a Tuesday. Talk about your foreign concepts.

Bonnie marched through the back door of André’s that Roman held open for her. The few days of low sixties they’d had over the weekend had given way to thick clouds and a never-ending mist that made the mid-forty temps feel more like zero.

Striding beside him into the employee parking lot, she ducked her chin deeper into her jean jacket and did her best to keep up. “You know, I’m fine staying until closing. My body’s used to late nights, and I didn’t even start today until two in the afternoon. Stopping at ten is like a half day for me.”

“You have worked enough.” The way Roman said it, Bonnie kind of got the impression he’d had a day from hell and needed some quality time vegging in front of one of the massive flat screens hung around his house. He opened the passenger door to his truck and held out his hand. “Now, we have some place to go.”

“We do?”

He nodded.

“Care to share?”

“I would prefer you get inside the truck where you’re not cold.”

She frowned at him, took his hand and climbed into the cab. “All right fine. Be tight-lipped about it.”

He shut the door behind her, but there was a tiny smile on his face before he disappeared around the back of the truck.

Mission accomplished.

She buckled her seat belt and bit back a grin of her own. Why she got such a thrill out of getting the big Russian sourpuss to lighten up she couldn’t say, but the last three days she’d made it her mission to do so. Making him watch Desperate Housewives. Talking him into a late-night run to a coffee shop for a latte. Giving him grief for leaving the toilet seat in the downstairs bathroom up. Of course, none of those things were really normal things she did or an issue for her, but it’d been fun watching his responses.

The strategy also did double duty in keeping her mind off the things Cassie, Evie and Ninette had said—all of which she’d decided couldn’t be right because there hadn’t been a single incident since Saturday that she could interpret as interest on Roman’s part.

Roman opened his door, situated himself and started the engine. The drive to his home in the Garden District wasn’t an overly long one, and the two times they’d driven it so far, they’d either had companionable silence, or Bonnie had done the conversational lifting.

This time, Roman barely made it out of the parking lot before he changed the game. “Tomorrow, we will go shopping.”

Bonnie looked at him. She couldn’t have heard that right. No man—especially one like Roman—willingly uttered those words to any female. “Huh?”

“Shopping. Be ready at noon. You need a new coat.”

She did? She glanced down the length of her at the tailored black slacks, white button-down and snappy black vest buttoned over it.