“Fair,” I said.
She smirked.“Besides, my old man looks good in leather.”
“So does mine.”I blurted the words before my brain caught up.
Casey’s grin spread.“Yours, huh?”
Heat hit my cheeks.“I am going to pretend you did not hear that.”
“Oh, I heard it.I’m recording it for posterity.”
“You’re evil,” I said.
“Yeah,” she agreed.“You’ll fit right in.”
* * *
Back at “our” house, the quiet felt deeper after a day full of voices.
I toed off my shoes by the door and hung my borrowed club hoodie on the hook.The picture frame Kane had given me before went on the little shelf beside the TV.My mom’s smile caught the light.The others in the picture were close friends of the family, ladies I called my aunts.
At first, I’d worried they may end up hurt because of the crap Jason had brought down on our family.But thankfully, no one bothered them.I’d tried to distance myself from them once I’d realized what my brother was up to.I wasn’t sure if it worked.If they knew about the aunts and hadn’t gone after them, then perhaps they’d decided they weren’t good enough leverage.
Kane dropped the small grocery bag we had snagged from the clubhouse on the kitchen counter.“You tired?”
“Worn out,” I replied.“Not sleepy yet.”
“Same.”.
An idea bubbled up before I could squash it.“Let me cook.”
“You already ate,” he pointed out.
“So did you,” I countered.“I didn’t say we needed food.I said let me cook.I want to do something nice for you that doesn’t involve guns or crying.”
His eyes warmed.“Yeah?You trying to spoil me?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Okay.Kitchen’s yours.I’ll stay out of the way unless you set something on fire.”
“That only happened once,” I reminded him.
“You set something on fire?”he asked.
“Popcorn,” I said.“Microwave.Wrong button.Long story.”
He laughed and leaned against the doorway while I dug through his pantry and the little fridge.The options were limited: pasta, jarred sauce, some ground beef, a bag of shredded cheese, half an onion, butter, milk, eggs.
“Okay.I can work with this.”
I boiled pasta, browned meat, doctored the sauce with onion and spices.Tossed everything in a baking dish I found under the sink and covered it in cheese.While it baked, I made garlic toast out of the last of the bread.
I hadn’t realized how much I missed cooking until the house filled with the smell of tomatoes and melted cheese.Back in my old life, preparing meals became one of the few things I controlled.My brother did things that endangered me, put me on a chessboard for men like Roth.But even then, I held onto control in my life where I could find it.
Kane watched me from the doorway, eyes wide as I transformed basic ingredients into comfort.
“This smells amazing,” he said when I pulled the dish from the oven.
