He could buy his own goddamn new underwear. He just wasn’t used to people dealing with things without being asked to.
He didn’t think the kids in his family even knew how to do laundry, and that included the twenty-year-olds.
Hell, at Momma’s place there was a big industrial machine they all used. He’d even brought a load of laundry home when he came back this time.
Mitch came out carrying an empty laundry basket. “If you’ll stick your stuff in here, I’ll soak it in some OxiClean for eight hours or until morning. Then I’ll re-wash everything. It ought to fix a goodly amount of it. It hasn’t been long.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to make a big deal?—”
Mitch looked at him, lips pursed. “Yes, you did. You were mad. You had a right to be mad. Those are your clothes. I get it, trust me, I understand that. My girl is just trying to be adecent human being and help you out.” Mitch’s dark eyes were like holes burned in a blanket. “So it’s like when she burns the fucking toast or the eggs, or when she tries to hang a picture and she puts the hammer through the wall or any of the ten thousand fucking things kids will do that are mistakes and that are a pain in your ass. If they’re not doing it to be assholes, then I’m not going to get on to them for it. I will teach them about what they’ve done wrong so we can learn to do it again and do it right. I’m trying to make it so they can grow up to be reasonable human beings. That’s my fucking job, you see, to raise reasonable human beings that are decent and good and smart and useful. I will have her apologize to you, and I will remind her again not to touch your things ever and to always check for anything red. Is that okay? Does that work for you?”
“I don’t need an apology.”
“Well, unfortunately that’s part and parcel of the whole gig. When you do something wrong, you say ‘you’re sorry’ and you try to make it right.”
“She already said she was sorry.” Cam blew out a hard breath. “I told her she didn’t need to apologize. She said to tell you that Sarah was out with the dog, and that the little one was taking a nap.”
“All right, give me your laundry. Let me get it soaking.”
He wasn’t sure how this had happened. How he’d gone from being righteous and mad to being in big trouble because he’d hurt this little girl’s feelings, but it pissed him off.
It also made him feel about two inches tall and made him ashamed of himself.
He had to figure out a way to make this better. “Does it work?”
Mitch blinked at him. “What?”
“The cleaner stuff; they say you can dip it in and it works. Does it really work to get stains out?”
“Well, not that quick, but yeah, it kind of does.” Mitch stared at him like he was out of his damn mind.
“Well, I can do that. Don’t worry about it.”
Mitch’s lips curled in a grin again, which was good. He’d rather have Mitch laughing at him than mad at him to be honest. He hated having feelings and shit, but they sure had been turned on their head. “They get to you, don’t they?”
“Who?” Cam felt like his ears were all blocked up by his shoulders, which were hunched hard.
“The kids. They get to you. They’re super sweet, and they don’t mean any harm. They’re just kids.”
“Yeah, well I haven’t spent a whole lot of time around them even though I have a million nieces and nephews.”
“I know.” Mitch gave him a tilted head, pursed lips sort of look. “That’s weird, cowboys and kids, it’s like a natural milieu.”
“When I figure out what the hell that means, I’ll come up with a reply that just crushes you like a ton of bricks. But right now, I don’t even know how to use that word in a sentence like you just did.”
“You’re not as dumb as all that, Cam. Now, he puts the laundry in the basket, okay?”
“Quit with theSilence of the Lambsvoice.” He glared at Mitch. “You’re still not supposed to be carrying shit. Hand me the basket. I’ll put the laundry in it, and I’ll take it to the laundry room.”
“You’re not gonna get me to argue if you want to do the work.” Mitch handed the basket over.
“What’s Bekka’s favorite fast food?” Cam couldn’t believe he was even considering this, but he was going to run into town, buy a couple of packs of T-shirts, socks, and underwear, and then he would pick up fast food on the way home.
“She likes a crispy chicken sandwich, tater tots.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you what. I’ll get these in the washer. I’ll go ask Bekka to forgive me for being mean. I’ll go get the food and I’ll be back.”
That way he could get out of this crazy house for a few minutes and remember who he was and what he was all about.
