“Why don’t you?”
It was a logical question, and I’d known it was coming, even if I’d hoped it wouldn’t. “I’m something of an outcast,” I said, figuring she’d put it together eventually if she hadn’t already.
“Why?” she pressed.
I glanced over at her, unable to hide my incredulous expression. Realization dawned on her face once more.
“Don’t tell me it’s because of your mask,” she muttered.
“More like what’s underneath it,” I answered, turning off the stove.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s just the way things are,” I said with a shrug. She fell silent and when I looked over, I could tell she was deep in thought. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” she said quickly, meeting my gaze again. She seemed to want to say something else, but the door opened.
He had impeccable timing.
“Got dessert!” the brute said triumphantly, holding up a bag that looked like it was going to tear open and spill its contents any second. “Ice cream, cookies, cake… I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got it all.”
I looked at Bells for her reaction, and she just stared blankly at him. “Did you buy the entire store?” I asked flatly.
He flipped me off again, somehow, while carrying the groceries over to the counter. For once, he was trying not to stare at Bells, who wandered over, leaning in curiously.
“Cookies?” she asked, picking up one of the packages.
“Can’t call it home without some good old-fashioned junk food,” Dean said with a cheesy grin.
I rolled my eyes and started moving the place settings away from all the clutter he’d piled on the counter. When I turned around, he was looming over the stove, the wooden spoon I’d used to stir the pasta dangerously close to his mouth.
“Hey!” I scolded, snatching it out of his hand and whacking the back of it with the handle.
“Ouch!” Dean yelled with an audible snarl, rubbing his hand. “The hell was that for?”
“Baby,” I snorted. “If you want some, then sit down and wait like you’re not a complete animal.”
He glared at me, but he did it. Probably only because Bells was between us.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, darting back into her room. A moment later, she came out wearing a pair of snug black jeans and a white tank top that hung off her slender shoulders. It was a striking contrast to the harsh black shade of her hair, the damp strands curling enticingly around her smooth jaw. “This looks amazing.”
“It’s not bad,” Dean said, already halfway through a heaping plate he’d helped himself to. It was going to take a damn farm to keep this place stocked with him around.
“It’s amazing,” Bells agreed. She seemed to be in a much better mood now that she was fed. I decided to make a note of that. The care and keeping of humans wasn’t exactly something they taught us in school.
“I’m glad you like it,” I said, not quite sure why my face felt warm all of a sudden. She stirred all kinds of foreign sensations within me, some easier to accept than others.
Dinner passed in a surprisingly amiable fashion, and when it came time to clean up, Dean snatched the dishes Bells had gone to collect.
“I’ll get it,” he insisted.
“I can manage it just fine,” I told him.
“Don’t be silly. You cooked,” Dean said with a provoking smile I couldn’t exactly call him out on without looking paranoid.
I sighed unhappily, but resigned myself to the fact that this was how things were going to be for the foreseeable future. It wasn’t quite what I’d imagined, but that was probably a good thing.
Chapter 11
