I frowned, taking him in. Was he serious? That’s what calmed him down? The guy needed to drink some wine then because that worked much better than cooking.
“Go check your blood sugar. Breakfast should be ready once you're finished.
“You don’t have to worry about me; I’m not your problem.”
“You’re my employee, so yes, I do. I can’t afford to lose another staff member, not right now anyway.”
I watched him shuffling through the kitchen, grabbing a carton of eggs, milk, and bread. Part of me knew he was right, but a part of me didn’t want to do as he said because I hated taking orders from anyone, especially men. At the same time, I also didn’t want to end up in urgent care again.
When I returned to the kitchen, he had two plates with eggs and toast on them and was pouring himself a glass of water.
“Well?”
“I’m fine, it was a little low but not as low as I expected.”
"You’re welcome.”
“Did they teach you that cockiness is unbecoming in the military because they should have.”
He isn’t amused since his lips are pursed in a perfectly straight line as he sits at the table.
“Once you’re done eating, I’ll take you back to the lakehouse."
“I appreciate the gesture but I’m really not hungry,” my stomach growled the second I finished speaking.Damn, stomach.
Nick looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.“I didn’t poison the food if that's what you're worried about.”
I rolled my eyes and sat down. As I ate, I could feel my body being replenished with nutrients, which also helped with my headache. We sat in silence for most of the duration of breakfast. I dropped a few slices of bacon to loco between the sounds of silverware clanking against glass.
The silence was pleasant. We both didn’t feel the need to bullshit or make pointless small talk. There was no need since hewanted nothing to do with me, and I wanted nothing to do with him.
After eating, Nick bolted outside like he couldn’t breathe until he was away from me. No words. Just out the door, fast. I followed, Loco trotting behind me, sensing the energy shift like he always did. Nick was halfway to his truck when I said, “Can we ride your motorcycle instead?”
He stopped mid-stride, spine stiffening before he turned around slowly, his eyes narrowing like he hadn’t quite heard me right.
“You’d rather ride the motorcycle?” His voice was tight, laced with disbelief.
“Yes. I don’t like enclosed cars.” I gestured toward the sky. “That’s why I got the convertible.”
He studied me, searching for the real reason buried under the excuse. “Are you sure you’re fine?”
I shot him a look sharp enough to slice. “I’m fine.”
His eyes flicked to Loco, tail wagging beside me. “And what about your dog?”
“Isn’t that what that’s for?” I pointed at the tiny dog carrier strapped behind the motorcycle like it was a joke waiting to happen.
Nick’s mouth curved into something between a smirk and a sigh. “Yes, but your dog is way too small to fit that. And besides, he needs the proper gear to ride. The new sounds, the engine—he’s never been on a bike. It could scare him, cause him to jump off.” His gaze turned serious. “And I don’t think you want to take that chance, princess.”
The word burned, but not more than the mental image of Loco flinging himself off a speeding bike. I exhaled. “Ugh, fine. But I’m riding in the back.”
Nick rolled his eyes and reached for his back pocket. “Are we always going to have this argument every time we drive somewhere?”
I clocked the cigarette box in his hand and my stomach flipped. “Uh, you are not smoking in the car. I’ll throw up.”
He scoffed. “Dramatic much? Last time I checked, it’s my car.”
“That didn’t stop you before.” I folded my arms, already defensive, already pissed that this felt familiar.
