Page 5 of Sinful Sharing

“I...” She trails off. “It’s complicated.”

“He’ll be here for three months. I’d rather know what I’m dealing with.”

“I know.”

“But?”

“But it’s Taylor’s story to tell.”

That answer doesn’t satisfy me. Not even close. It would be wise to know what I’m up against. “Did he kill someone?”

“Jesus, no. Of course not.”

“Then—“

“If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“I hope that won’t change how you accommodate him,” she replies. “He could learn a thing or two from you, Roman. He will be heading to law school next year, and while he might not need those skills in the courtroom, he could use some toughening up.”

Sighing, I stare out the kitchen window toward the cabins, seeing Jude’s silhouette moving against the graying sky. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you.” I hear the smile in her voice. “You’ve always been a good person, Roman.”

I almost laugh. She doesn’t know me anymore. In fact, she never really did. “I’ll call if anything comes up.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

She hangs up. The kitchen falls silent again except for the burbling of the pots and the hum of the refrigerator. I lower the phone onto the counter. That restless feeling is still there.

When Natasha first explained everything, it had sounded simple enough. A young man needed a break from the city. Who wouldn’t? I can’t imagine living among all that excitement. But after meeting Taylor, after getting a taste of his attitude, hearing that strain in Natasha’s voice convinces me there’s more to the story.

I switch off the burner beneath the pan before the meat burns. Three months. That’s all. I’ll keep the kid safe, collect the money and save the ranch.

Simple.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

I hope I haven’t taken on too much.

3

Taylor

“Look on the bright side, honey. No one knows you have an uncle living in Hallow Creek.”

Biting back my frustration, I drop my ass on the bed, my cell phone pressed against my ear. I’d spent the last five minutes airing my complaints about the state of this so-called ranch resort, and I doubt she heard anything I said. “Did you know they’re closed until the first week of December?” I ask.

Silence.

“Mom?”

She clears her throat. “Yes, Roman had told me.”

“And you conveniently forgot to mention it.” So typical of her.

“What difference would it have made?”