LOL: Laugh Out Loud (After Oscar, #2)(34)

He pulled back so he could meet my eyes. A frown crinkled his forehead. “You’d do that?”

What kind of question was that. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“You don’t even know them. Why would you want to spend time with them?”

I shrugged. “That doesn’t bother me. I meet strangers all day long.”

He hooked his hand around the back of my neck, pulling my forehead against his. “You’re a good man, Scotty. Thank you.”

His words warmed my heart. Enough that I felt like I might never be cold again.

Now I was the one whose chest needed rubbing. The last thing in the world I needed right now was an unreciprocated crush on this man. I was homeless, jobless, and bordering on hopeless. There was no chance in hell this ended well for me. I was lucky to have his kindness long enough to fill my belly and get a ride to the nearest town for a job.

I cleared my throat and moved away from him, looking down at the wide planks of the hardwood floor. “You go,” I said, nudging him away. Afraid if I didn’t let go now I never would, and that train of thought led to danger.

“Keep an eye on Marigold,” he warned. “She’s flighty and tends to make bad decisions, like walking off a job one time because she didn’t like the way her coworker parted her hair. Or the time she saw a painting she didn’t like at their uncle’s house and donated it to Goodwill without telling anyone. It was a Monet. They assumed it was a reproduction painting and sold it to some lucky thrift store shopper for forty bucks.”

My eyes widened. I couldn’t even imagine. Not just the part about Marigold donating her uncle’s Monet just because she didn’t like it, but even having an uncle who owned a Monet in the first place. It was another reminder just how different Roman’s world was from my own.

“I’ll make sure not to let her near my fine-art masterpieces,” I promised him.

The corner of his lips curled up. I liked that I’d been able to make him smile.

He pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose with a murmured thanks and retreated toward the master bedroom. I blew out a breath and returned to the kitchen.

“Okay,” I said, clapping my hands as I returned to the party. “Someone said something about everyone going to the spa? Sounds great. Awesome plan. I’m totally in favor. Manis, pedis, facials, massages. All things you can’t get here, which is why you should totally go ahead and go before someone else takes the best time slots. Why don’t we go ahead and make that happen?”

I realized at that point that the number of people in the kitchen had swelled. There was now an older couple who didn’t seem to fit with the vibe of the rest of the crowd. As soon as the older woman saw me, she beamed like we’d known each other for ages and came gliding toward me.

She took my hand in both of hers. “You must be Roman’s friend. Marigold was just telling me all about you.”

“Um.” I cut my eyes toward Marigold. She smirked at me. The woman had known me for all of five minutes—what exactly could she say about me? Then I realized the emphasis that the older woman had placed on the word friend and all and realized exactly what Marigold had probably told her. I was guessing it involved me and Roman and finding us in bed together. Great. The last thing Roman needed was to have that little tidbit of information find its way to the press.

“Yeah, about that… Roman is kind of a private person, so if you could keep that bit of info—”

“Oh posh.” The woman waved a hand. “If you think I don’t have better dirt on Roman Burke than that!”

“Yeah,” Marigold chimed in, reaching for another strawberry and popping it in her mouth. “Oscar isn’t exactly discreet when it comes to sharing details of his sexual exploits with his family.”

“I…” I didn’t know what to say to that. Sexual exploits? Family?

The older woman patted me on the shoulder. “Never you fear, dear, Roman’s secrets are safe with us.”

“And you are…”

“Oh dear me, so sorry,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m Gladiolus. Oscar and Marigold’s mama.”

This was turning into a regular family reunion. Or a garden party—I wasn’t sure which. “Are you going to the spa as well?”

“No, no, of course not. That’s more Marigold’s thing. Birch and I are taking Rosette to the Sugar Shack,” she said, nodding to the older man, who I presumed was her husband, and the little girl who’d awoken us. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the Sugar Shack was, but so long as it didn’t involve them staying with us, I was cool with it.

“We just dropped by to pick up the package,” she continued. “We’ll all be out of your hair in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

I looked around the room. “And the package is…?”

Marigold snickered next to her mother. “She’s kidding about the package.”

“Hush, dear. He doesn’t need to know.” Mrs. Oscar’s Mom sniffed.

“But Mom…”

“Zzttt,” she said, elbowing her grown daughter in the side. “Snitches get stitches, Goldie.”

Apparently that wasn’t enough to scare Marigold, because she didn’t stop. “The package is Oscar’s vodka stash. He’s always got the good stuff you can’t find anywhere else.”