Cherie knew he was talking about the complete withdrawal of all American military personnel from the Middle East country. “Do you think we’ll get into another war like we did in Afghanistan and Vietnam.”
“Who knows, Cherie. There have always been wars and rumors of wars since the beginning of mankind, so no one knows until shit happens and we’re drawn back in.”
“I don’t know why, but I keep thinking about my brothers.”
Reese rested a hand at the small of her back. “Your brothers will be all right. One of these days, they’ll meet the loves of their lives and make you an auntie.”
She smiled up at him. “An auntie who will spoil the hell out of my nieces or nephews.”
“A niece who will be wearing designer shoes and carrying a designer bag before she’s two.”
“That’s not nice, Reese.”
“Okay. Maybe I should’ve said when she’s twenty-two, so she can strut and profile with her gorgeous auntie.”
“By that time, I’ll probably be close to or over sixty, and I doubt I’ll be wearing four-inch stilettos.”
“You wear heels that high?”
Cherie walked into the kitchen with Reese and sat on a stool at the island. “Yes.”
“How tall are you?”
“Five-three. If I were wearing heels you wouldn’t appear that much taller than me.”
“I’m six-four, so I’ll always appear a lot taller than you.”
She rested her elbows on the island’s quartz countertop. Reese was tall and all muscle without appearing bulky, and she wondered if he worked out to stay in peak condition. He’d also worn all-black, and the black mock-V-neck sweater and slacks made him look more imposing.
“Are you certain I can’t help?” she asked again.
“I’ve set the table in the dining room, so there isn’t much else for you to do.”
Cherie wanted to tell Reese that she wasn’t used to sitting and doing absolutely nothing. Whenever she sat down, it was either to eat, read, or watch television. “What are you doing Super Bowl Sunday?” she asked when television popped into her head.
Reese turned to look at her. “I’m scheduled to work the eight-to-four shift.”
“Eight at night to four in the morning?”
“No. Eight in the morning to four in the afternoon. Why?”
“I’m hosting a Super Bowl party at my house, and I’d like you to come. Kayana and her husband and Leah and Derrick will so be there. We’ve decided on a Mexican-inspired menu because we just finished discussingLike Water for Chocolate.”
“Are you certain you want me to come?”
Cherie rested a hand at her hip. “If I didn’t want you to come, I never would’ve said a mumbling word to you, Reese.”
“Okay. Count me in. Is there anything you want me to bring?”
“Yes. Yourself,” she repeated what he’d told her when inviting her to his house.
He wagged a finger at her. “Remember, we southerners don’t come to one another’s homes empty-handed.”
Cherie knew she, Leah, and Kayana would have everything under control when it came to the menu. “I don’t want to argue with you, Reese. Bring whatever you want,” she said in a harsh, clipped tone.
He turned and glared at her. “I don’t argue, Cherie, so please don’t confuse me with some of the other men in your past.”
Cherie recoiled as if she’d been slapped across the face. She didn’t know why Reese had brought other men into the conversation when it wasn’t about them. “You had no right to say that to me.”
