Chapter Four - Gruyére Guys

"YOU…" I HOBBLE to my elbows and scoot back over broken shelves, wood scattering behind me. My quivering gaze drifts from Cheddy's massive grin to the ground where a block of cheddar vanished. "And it…"

"Where's Mateo?" Roq leaps into my line of sight, his face gnarled in anger.

My purse rings, drawing the curiosity of Cam who's back in his black leather. After digging through my bag, he pulls out the still-screaming phone. "What do I do?"

Put that down. It's not yours!

The words tap at the back of my skull, but all my lips can form is, "Cheese?"

"It's been twenty years!" Roq fumes.

"Oh? Yes, hello yourself?" Cam says, placing my phone in front of his mouth.

"There was cheese," I mutter, pointing back to the ground before swinging my finger up to Cheddy. "Then you."

"Uh-huh. I understand. Yes, Madam." Cam shuffles over, my phone extended at the end of his arm. "I believe it's for you."

Numb, I take my phone only to get a blast of motherly rage. "Who is that man?" My thumb ends the call and I drop my hand.

"Why are you…?" I whisper.

"We had a deal!" Roq keeps ranting. He lines his foot up to kick the garbage bag I'd spent all afternoon filling.

"What are you?"

Ring ring.

"Are you hiding any other mysteries in here?" Cam asks, digging through my purse.

Roq tears at his blue hair and bashes his foot right through the bag, tearing it in half. The day's worth of work spills out over the floor—my time worthless. All the while, my phone rings like the toll of a bell outside a courthouse, every chime drilling into my skull.

Popping up to my feet, a scream of hellfire unleashes from my trembling lips and I launch my phone. I think I'd been aiming for Roq's head, but it strikes the shop sign, knocking the hanging Goudafellas back on its chains. My phone swan dives onto the counter with a loud crack.

Every man stares at my broken phone, then back at me. Panting, I jerk a finger to each face. "What the hell are you doing here? Getting into my things!"

Cam raises his hands and steps back, though he twirls a tampon between his fingers like a cigar.

"Making a goddamn mess." I point directly at Roq who crosses his arms and lifts his head telling me he has no regrets.

I land on Cheddy, who's still naked. "Being a…"

My sanity snaps. I wrap my palms over my face, certain that if I close my eyes they'll vanish. This isn't real. They're not real. Inside my blind refuge, I cry out, "Cheese!"

Only the whir of the old boiler fills the air. I start to peek, uncertain what to fear—that they've vanished and I've gone fully mad, or there are still three partially naked men surrounding me.

Fingers brush against the back of mine. I jerk, nearly pulling away, but a soft voice calls out, "Shh, be still, Lady Violette." Cam braids his fingers around mine and gently guides them down. "Oh, my dear, you're beginning to bruise. Does anyone have a cold cut?" he asks, black hair scattering over his shoulder.

"There's mortadella in the vault," Roq says before turning over his shoulder. "Bree?"

I didn't even notice the quiet one lingering behind the support beam. He jerks his head at the attention, then scurries down into the basement. "Vault?" I ask, peering at the three remaining men.

"I believe you should sit. We all need to speak." Cam takes me by the hand, his fingers calloused—the veins flexing under his olive skin. He leads me toward an old barrel, shoves the mess, and dusts off the top before helping me onto it like a gentleman. As he bows, a loud harrumph breaks from behind. Cam spins to glare at Roq. "Or do you intend to pitch a tantrum all night and learn nothing?"

"Do what you want. You always do."

"I'm afraid that introductions were cut rather short last eve. You know our names, but not our identities. We are…"

"Who are you?" Roq interrupts, peeling Cam away from me.

Nervously, I clench my hands in thin air. "I'm Violette Ree–"

"Yes, yes. But why are you here? What has happened to this store? Where is Mateo? That bumbling fool would never leave this place in such distress."

Tears build in my eyes at this trespassing asshole calling my beloved uncle a fool. Ice cuts through me and I cry out, "Uncle Mateo's dead!"

Three jaws drop. Cam turns away to glare at the wall. Cheddy begins to well up, his fist shaking at the news. Roq's the only one who doesn't flinch. His lips twist in a knot and he sunders the air with the single word, "Dead?"

I nod and drop my gaze.

With a growl, Roq runs his hands back through his blue hair and walks away. They fall silent digesting the news. The air hardens to sludge as if death hides in every inch of the shop.

"Who's dead?" Bree's soft voice pipes up.

Cam and Roq reach for him at the same time, catch the other, and snarl before turning away. Confused, Bree weaves forward with a hunk of sausage in his hands. "For the bruise," he says nearly placing it on my head. I reach for the sausage, uncertain if ancient cured meat will help, and my fingers brush over his.

Bree's face turns pinker than the mortadella. He turtles into his collar and scuttles back.

"Thank you," I say. Even if they are strange, partially naked men trespassing in my uncle's cheese shop, there's no reason to not be polite.

"You're welcome," Bree breathes before he joins the others in a huddle and repeats his question. Cam whispers the answer in his ear and sweet Bree's entire face crumples. "But he was so nice."

"Death rarely cares for the character of a man," Cam says with a shrug.

They gather together in a small circle, hands clenched and heads bowed. I can't tell if they're mourning my uncle or celebrating his death. Maybe both?

"How?" Roq asks. His gruff voice softens and a lilt slips out. I can't place the accent beyond somewhere European. His steel eyes sharpen with such intensity, I forget how to make my tongue go. "How did he die?"

"His liver, it…it died."

"Oh no, do you think it was my brandied ciders?" Cheddy cries out.

The others pat him on the shoulder in comfort. Only Roq sneers at his innocent reaction. "Use your brains. We were out for nearly twenty years. He would be geriatric by now."

"That's no reason to spit on his memory. We need to plan a wake," Cam insists.

"A wake for the man who betrayed us." Roq glares at them before winnowing back on me. "And what do you know of him? You claim to be a niece."

"Grand niece."

Cam breaks from the huddle. His eyes cut down my body like a measuring tape. "At a guess, not a day over twenty…five?"

I blush so bad I watch it creep down my arms. He licks his lips and groans out, "Oh."

After giving a disgusted snort, Roq zeroes in on me. "You are the next of kin, then? Come to take ownership of this shop?"

"I… I didn't even know he left it to me. One day lawyers called, which I didn't answer because it had to be a scam. But they kept calling so I answered to get them to stop. Which is stupid because it just lets the scammers… They said I had to get here quickly to take ownership or else the land would default to the city. I never intended to own anything."

Roq's hefty eyebrows peak in surprise. Every man stops what he's doing to focus on me. "You speak as if you have no intention to continue the store."

I shrug, uncertain what to say.

"Are you saying you do not wish to be our new mistress?" Cam asks.

The mere question churns my stomach, but the way he says it while tapping his lips rising in a laugh causes a whole other box of fireworks to go off inside. Mistress to four strange men living in the basement of a cheese shop? Sure. Why not? My mind toys with the idea of me in head-to-toe black leather cracking a whip on four chained men. Oh my gosh! Delete that image, now! If I so much as picked up a whip, I'd be more likely to take out my own eye than hit any hard buttocks…

"Don't think about their butts!" I cry out, forgetting to keep it in my head. "Um…"

Roq doesn't respond. Bree pulls more of his hair in front of his face. Cam gives a teasing wink, then turns to the side to show off his muscular derriere. It's Cheddy who spins fully around and clenches both of his glutes with a laugh.

Why isn't the ground opening up and swallowing me whole?

"We need to make arrangements," Roq says like I didn't just make a fool out of myself.

Cam rolls his eyes. "Not again. We're finally settled."

"If Miss Reely…" Roq says my name with a hint of disdain, his gaze daring me to challenge him. "…has intentions to put this place on the market then we are no longer safe."

That statement catches all four of them. They touch their foreheads, then their lips before shooting me rather judgmental glances. I didn't even know they existed twenty-four hours ago and now I'm supposed to be their…mistress?

"Unless." Cam dances toward me and stops just before he glances a hand to my shoulder. "The angelic lady would deign to take us on as her obliging apprentices."

"The…what?" I gulp, fully lost.

Roq sighs. "Weren't you the one who voted against this arrangement in the first place?"

Through gritted teeth, Cam spits back. "Can you not comprehend the difference between a walrus of a man holding our leash versus this delicate, gorgeous creature?" With no one to stop him, he picks up my hand and presses it to his lips, his velvety eyes not breaking from me for a second.

The gremlin in my brain grabs onto the word gorgeous and bats it around like a cat with a milk lid. I try to close my mouth, fearing I might be drooling, as Cam places my hand on my lap. He shoots a snarl at Roq. "Even your holy brain can appreciate that."

I brace for Roq's derisive snort, but he's gone quiet and contemplative. The others glance from Cam back to Roq looking like kids hoping their parents will take them to McDonald's.

Bree nudges his shoulder against Roq's back, not even swaying the brick of a man. "What if it's not safe for us to move?"

"That cellar's perfect. Dark. Quiet. And so many leftover bricks for me to lift." Cheddy raises both of his arms, then flexes. His brick-honed biceps harden so fast light gleams off of the oiled skin, blinding my eyes.

One by one, the four men debate without saying a word. It's a lot of dramatic eyebrow flares and lip twitches before they each turn to me. After a stretch of dead silence, Roq prompts, "Well…"

Me, be in charge of, no—the mistress of—four dangerously hot men? Four men who seem to think that clothing is optional? Men that live in the cellar of a cheese shop like gorgeous, often-naked vampires?

"I…" My tongue dries as I stumble into each of their eyes. Cheddy's gleam, Cam's scheme, Bree's hide, and Roq's… I stop at his glaring defiantly. He seems to do that a lot. "I don't even know what you are."

"We are…" The unshakable certainty crumbles. Roq bites his lip, drawing my attention to just how pink they are against his skin.

With boundless energy, Cheddy shouts, "Were-cheese!"

"Where's the cheese?" I ask. Spinning, I point to the mummified dairy in the trash bag. "There's the cheese."

"No." Cam glances the tip of his finger to my chin and pulls me back to him. "What my eternally exuberant friend is saying is that we—"

"Become cheese," Roq interrupts.

A disbelieving chortle rattles in my throat. It so badly wants to become a belly laugh at the idea that a grown man could become cheese. But as I look into their staid faces, my laugh hardens into a stone in my belly. "Are you, you're not…serious?"

"Deadly," Cam says.

They're cheese people? Dairy men? My finger rises—denial ringing through my brain—and pokes Cam's cheek. His skin feels normal, smooth, and warm like a… He smiles, causing a dimple to form just below my fingertip. It obliterates all my similes, leaving me damn near brain-dead as I keep poking his face.

"You don't feel like cheese," I mutter.

"I assure you, my darling, I am very much flesh and blood." He catches my finger, then takes both my hands in his. Damn near purring in my ear, he asks, "Do you wish to see how real and famished the flesh is?"

"We aren't cheese now. We're men," Roq interrupts.

"Unless we eat cheese," Cheddy adds. "Then you better open a window or two because phew!" He flaps a hand in front of his face while plugging his nose. Cam sighs and steps away as if accepting he's lost a battle I didn't realize I was in the middle of.

"Can you…?" I inch to the edge of the barrel, my curiosity spiking. "Can you turn into cheese right now?"

"No," Roq insists.

"Why not?"

"Because we can't."

Of course, they can't. They're messing with me. They think I'm an idiot. Cheese men? Really? "Because you're lying. You're all escaped, prisoner-tunneling magicians!" I waggle my finger at them, realizing that I've been had. People don't turn into food. Duh.

"Are we magicians who were imprisoned or magicians that tunnel?" Cheddy asks.

"I believe we were prisoners put away for using our magic to create tunnels," Cam explains.

"Don't be idiots," Roq growls with such ferocity it shuts up not only Cheddy and Cam but me as well. I dip my head, afraid to catch his glaring eye.

A soft voice pipes up. "It's night."

Three men step to the side, revealing Bree. He's pushed aside his fallen hair to peer at me. "We're only cheese by day."

They're what, men by night and cheese by day? "That sounds—"

"Inconvenient," Roq interrupts.

"I was going to say like an excuse. You expect me to believe all of this sight unseen? Where were you in the basement? Why didn't I see any cheese down there the night before?"

"Oh"—Cheddy smiles wide—"that's because of the—"

"The fact we were hiding," Cam speaks over him, slapping Cheddy on the arm. "We're quite good at hiding in our cheese form."

"Or else we get eaten," Bree whispers. All four men touch their foreheads and lips again.

They're having a laugh at me. This is a prank. There's gotta be cameras hidden in the overhead pipes and microphones in the toppled shelves. Ones that the cop completely missed. Or he's in on it. They all are. It makes way more sense for everyone from the lawyers to a random cop to be pranking me because cheese men aren't real. "Why would anyone want to turn into cheese? How can you turn into cheese? Why cheese?"

"That's a long tale." Roq sighs with centuries of exhaustion.

I grimace, realizing too late that I spoke aloud again.

"For now we have our future to tend to. If you will not honor the deal we struck with your uncle…"

"What deal?" I fidget in place, my buttocks warning me that asses were not made for barrels.

"In exchange for room, board, and protection by day, we provided him with his stock." Roq extends his hands out toward the cubby holes and upended shelves.

"You…you make cheese? But you are cheese."

"Do people not make people?" Roq asks rhetorically.

Cam leers forward, his lips nearly pressing to my cheek. "Would you like me to show you how?"

A low snarl from Roq and a lift of his massive hand sends Cam flitting away. "I meant the cheese, of course."

"Right."

"So you kept the store full and my uncle hid you away?" I ask.

Before answering, they shoot a worrying glance at each other. "That was the original agreement, yes," Roq explains. "If you would consider keeping the store open, and us in your employ, then there's no reason we can't carry it on. For Mateo."

My mouth tumbles into a frown at the mention of my uncle. If he really kept four strange men in his basement then why did I never see them? Why didn't I know about the cellar? I thought I was his special cheese fairy.

They're looking at me again. I wince at the reminder and stare at the store not as a property but as a shop. It's filthy and torn to hell. Reopen it? I don't know the first thing about running a business, or cheese. I don't know the first thing about anything. If my mom heard this…

Oh god. I peer over at where my phone landed. Pieces of plastic are scattered across the floor, my only connection to the outside world severed. She's gonna kill me.

No, she's gonna chain me to my bed for a decade. That will be what kills me.

"I don't know…" Five million dollars versus the claims of four strange, delusional men who are probably lying to me. It shouldn't be a contest. With that money, I could do anything I want. But…my teeth ache at the idea of letting anyone down, especially these men who seem desperate if not completely insane. "All of the food is rotten. There's no cheese to sell."

Roq grins with immense pride and the others begin to chuckle.

"What?" I ask.

It's Roq of all people who extends his hand to me. I ease my fingertips across his palm, then watch as it swallows my hand whole. With a gleam in his eye, Roq declares, "Let me show you."