Mayhem & Mistletoe, стр. 38
I narrowed my eyes. Phish Food was my favorite. “Is it the full-fat kind? You’re not trying to sucker me with the yogurt version?”
He snickered. “Full fat. I learned my lesson on that one.”
I huffed out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll thank her. But I won’t like it.”
“I expect nothing less.”
I paused before shutting him inside the truck. “I really did have it under control.”
“Avery, just thank her and get moving. Every muscle in my body hurts — like, really hurts — and I want to go home. I’ve had enough of your crap for one night.”
I hesitated. “If we get married, you’ll be stuck dealing with stuff like this forever.”
He cracked open an eye. “I know what you’re doing. Thank her and get your butt behind the wheel. And avoid Jake. We’ll talk about the rest of it at home.”
It was rare for him to be this cranky, and he had been hurt trying to protect me, so I decided to let it go. “I’m just saying. You know I can’t keep my mouth shut. This will hardly be the last time something like this happens.”
“I know. Now ... come on. I want my ice cream and bath.”
He was kind of cute, despite being bossy. “Okay. Half that ice cream is mine, though.”
“We’ll see.”
ELIOT’S GROAN SERVED AS MY ALARM CLOCK. Normally I slid into wakefulness over the course of an hour, but this morning my eyes popped open and I was instantly alert.
“What hurts?”
Eliot, on his side, rubbed his back and glared at me through narrowed eyes. “Everything hurts. I told you that last night.”
“Yeah, but I thought you were exaggerating because you wanted me to wait on you like a nurse.”
“That was part of it. Now everything really does hurt.”
I rubbed his lower back. “If you’re just pretending to be in pain for a free massage, I’m going to be really upset.”
“We can’t have that,” Eliot said dryly, briefly pressing his eyes shut as he let loose a muffled moan. “That feels good. Keep doing that.”
I frowned. I was the one who usually got the morning massages. “Is this how it’s going to be if we get married? Are you going to get all the massages while I’m forced to wait on you? I have to say, I don’t like the idea.”
Eliot cocked an eyebrow and snickered. He looked genuinely amused. “You are ... so much work.” He moved his hands up and cupped my chin. “Your mind goes to the strangest places. The only reason you’re waiting on me this morning is because you got me in trouble last night.”
That was a gross exaggeration. “You got yourself in trouble. I had everything under control.”
His eyes flashed with annoyance. “Stop saying that. You didn’t have anything under control.”
“You don’t know. I could’ve had it under control.”
“Avery, keep rubbing.” His tone was commanding, something that would’ve caused me to immediately do something annoying to regain the power position. Today, though, guilt had me acquiescing to his demands.
I gave him a full thirty minutes of kneading, even though I lost interest five minutes into the endeavor. Eliot actually had an extra spring in his step when we hit the kitchen. I expected him to cook breakfast. Instead he sat at the table and pinned me with an expectant look.
“Oh, man! You want me to cook breakfast, too?”
His smirk widened. “I am recovering from an injury I sustained while defending you.”
“I had it under control!”
His expression didn’t change. He simply waited.
“Fine.” I was over this nurse thing. Next time he could massage himself. “This isn’t making me want to do that thing you want to do. This is every nightmare I’ve ever had rolled into one. I hope you know that.”
“Oh, you’ve already decided you’re going to marry me.” He sounded smug. “You’re trying to argue with yourself over it, but we both know you’re going to say yes.”
I glared at him. “I know no such thing.”
“But you do.” He winked. “You know that I’m the best thing that ever happened to you. Part of you is even excited at the prospect of getting married.”
“Have you started smoking pounds of pot while I wasn’t looking?”
“I know you. The fact that you’re bringing it up regularly tells me you’re ready to talk about it. I’m ready when you are.”
His attitude rankled. “I have not been bringing it up.” I stomped toward the pantry to grab the cereal, but he made a tsking sound to stop me. “What?”
“I want eggs, hash browns and toast.”
My mouth dropped open. “You want me to cook?”
“You grew up in a restaurant family. I know you’re familiar with the concept.”
“But ....”
He remained in his seat, expectant.
“Fine.” I slammed the pantry door and stalked to the refrigerator. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“I cook you breakfast three or four times a week.”
“I don’t ask you to do it. I’m fine with cereal.”
“Cookie Crisp is not a healthy start to the day.”
“I never said I wanted to be healthy.” I grabbed the eggs from the refrigerator and searched for one of the bags of shredded potatoes. “Cookie Crisp happens to be a fine way to start the day.”
“Only if you’re a sugar addict.”
I grumbled as I turned on the small television we kept on the counter. As a news junkie, I preferred catching up on world events before I started chasing stories.
“Do you think Jake knows why we were there last night?” I asked.
“I think he’s suspicious.” Eliot leaned back in his chair. He seemed content to watch me work, which should’ve been grating, except I recognized what he was doing. It was a test, to see how far I’d come. I could’ve gone against my instincts and tortured him a bit, but I didn’t have the energy. Besides, he’d been injured trying to protect me. Part of me wanted to coddle him simply because of that, which was a sobering realization.
“I think he