I didn’t want her to know I went out of my way to set it up for her, though, so I lied and told her that it had been there for anyone who needed to crash over. I didn’t miss the way she sprayed it down with disinfectant before taking boxes in there either. She probably thinks one of my brothers was in there.
She would be pissed if she knew. Little Miss “I don’t need help from anyone” would lose her shit. So she will never know. I will never tell her.
I look down the hall one last time before I head into the kitchen. She might not want me to help her unpack, but at least I can make us dinner.
Standing at the fridge, I look at all the items I took out to prepare. This can either piss her off or make her feel at home. It’s worth a shot either way.
It doesn’t take me long to chop the onion and bell pepper. I’m rinsing the cutting board when she comes into the kitchen.
“I was going to get a glass of water,” she mumbles.
“You don’t need to explain yourself. This is your home too. If you want water, you get water. Want food? The pantry is yours. I’m not labeling food and shit. You take what you want,” I inform her as I mix the spices I pulled out with the wet mixture I started.
“I don’t want to take advantage of you. I will contribute to the household. I can pay half the bills or the mortgage. I’ll bring home food. I’ll clean.”
I let out a sigh. “Rain, I don’t need you to pay bills. The house is paid off, so there is no mortgage. The bills? Covered. If you want to buy groceries, I won’t stop you, and I sure as hell don’t expect you to clean up after me. You aren’t here as my maid. You are my wife. This home is mine, but it is also yours, and I would really like you to think of it that way.”
She comes and leans next to me on the counter as I add the meat to the bowl before grabbing gloves for my hands.
“Dad always mixed it with his bare hands,” she murmurs.
“He did. I never could stand the greasy feeling on my skin afterward, so I use gloves.”
I see a small smile form on her face before she turns and grabs a glass.
“He always loved meatloaf. I didn’t know you knew how to make it.”
I listen as she fills up her glass with water while I mix the meat with my hands.
“I spent many nights at your house watching your dad cook. Of course I would learn how to make his favorites,” I remind her.
“It seems surreal to me. I barely saw or spent time with you over the years, but you had as close a relationship with my dad as I did. You knew him like I did, yet it almost feels like an alternate reality.” She makes her way over to me, leaning her hip against the counter once more.
“You meant the world to him. He always talked about you.”
She lets out a soft laugh. “So that’s how you know so much about me.”
No. It’s because I pay attention.
I don’t say that, though. I don’t respond at all.
After several moments of silence, she speaks again. “So I can watch whatever I want on TV?”
“Yep. All my streaming services are on there. Feel free to make yourself a profile.”
“Cool. I’m taking a break then.”
I glance over in time to see her saunter from the room. It’s then that I realize she has changed. No longer is she in jeans, but now she is wearing the tiniest shorts I have ever seen.
I try to look away, but I can’t. Not when I can see bits of her skin as her hips sway.
I swallow hard.
I can’t go there with her. Not unless she wants to. It’s only day one, and the temptation is already at a new high.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER
