“Well, I’ll be damned,” Cam laughs, looking at Warrick.
Not speaking, Warrick nods, and Cam shrugs and nods back. Clearly, they’re having some kind of conversation that I’m not privy to. I want to be annoyed and demand to know what they’retalking about, but I don’t know either of these men. The only reason we’re here is so the sheriff’s department will know who to arrest if I turn up dead or abused in a ditch. Jesus, what am I doing? This man is a stranger. An attractive stranger, but a stranger nevertheless. I should not have gotten in his car with him, and I definitely should not be considering going home with him, even if it’s only to sleep in his spare room because he found out I’m homeless.
“I changed my mind,” I say quietly, trying to tug my hand free of his hold. “I should go.”
Scowling, Warrick flashes me a lethal look, then turns to Cam. “Cam, please assure Verity that she will be completely safe with me.”
“He won’t hurt you, Verity. He’s a good guy, well-known and well-liked since he moved to town. My sister lives just up the road from his place. I’m going to give you her number and send her down to check on you. If she’s even slightly concerned about you, she’ll get you out of there, and she’ll call me so I can make sure you’re okay,” Cam assures me, the amusement gone and replaced with seriousness.
“Your sister?” I question.
“Her name is Cora. Cora Barnett. She lives just a couple of minutes’ walk from Warrick’s place, and she’s crazy protective. In fact, all the women in her family are, and the moment they meet you, they’re going to take you under their wings. Would you like me to video call her so you know who she is before she turns up on Warrick’s doorstep?”
Glancing at Warrick, I turn back to Cam and nod.
Taking his cell from his pocket, he taps at the screen, and a few moments later a female voice answers. “Hey Cam, what’s up?”
“Hey, Cora. Warrick made a new friend, and she’s going to be staying with him at his place, but he brought her to thedepartment so that I could vouch for her safety with him. I told her that you lived right up the road and that I’d let you know she was there. Why don’t you say hey?” he says before he turns the cell around and offers it to me.
On the screen is a woman with bright red hair pulled up into a ponytail. “Hey, I’m Cora,” she says brightly.
“Hi, I’m Verity.”
“So Warrick, huh?” she asks.
“He offered me his spare room to stay in while I’m in town,” I tell her, hiding the truth that I’m homeless and have been living in a tent.
Cora’s lips purse, then she slowly starts to nod. “Okay. I’m guessing you guys just met?”
“Yesterday,” I admit.
“Makes sense,” she says, sighing lightly. “I’ll come visit you tomorrow, but be warned my crazy-ass husband and kids will probably be with me, and I’m eighty-five months pregnant, so I’m waddling and I look like I’m about to give birth to a whale, not a baby.”
“I don’t want to…” I start.
“It’s fine, I need to get out of the house. Plus, I’m exaggerating. I’m actually barely eight months pregnant, it just feels like it’s been eighty-five months since he knocked me up again. But real talk, Warrick is a softie. You’re safe with him, I promise. But if he does anything that you don’t like, leave and head up the hill and keep going till you hit a house. You’ll either find Hal’s place—he owns the Williams Ranch—or our house, and one of us will help you and call the cops no questions asked. But you won’t need to, because I’m pretty confident in saying that Warrick would never let anything bad happen to you.”
Oddly, even though she’s a complete stranger too, something in her words reassures me. I’ve seen women lie a million times before, and despite not being great at it myself, I’m pretty goodat knowing when someone else is lying, and Cora isn’t. She truly believes that I’m safe with Warrick, and unless I’ve seriously lost my touch, I believe her.
“Thank you,” I tell her earnestly.
“You’re welcome. It’s nice to talk to you, Verity. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I agree.
“Have my brother give you my number. If you need anything, just call.”
I nod, then hand the cell phone back to Cam, who thanks his sister, then ends the call. After he pushes his cell back into his pocket, he hands me a business card with two printed numbers on it and a handwritten one.
“Those are my numbers and my sister’s,” he tells me.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“Thanks, Cam,” Warrick says, turning me and steering me toward the entrance. “Let’s get some food, amore mio.”
The next hour is kind of a blur. Warrick walks me back into his car, then drives us to a food truck that makes deep-dish pizza so thick I’m full after one slice. Instead of sitting at a table with a server, we sit opposite each other on a wooden picnic bench, eating in oddly peaceful silence.
“Are you ready to head home?” he asks, after I’ve refused more pizza for a third time.
