Page 41 of The More the Merrier

“I suppose. You don’t think it’s weird?”

“Cameron, I work for a crime lord who brought home a stripper and made her his wife after knowing her for one night. I raised a son to be an amazing man with a strong moral code, even though he somehow works as an inside informant for the previously mentioned crime lord. You telling me that you want to share a woman, a Little, with one of my best friends isn’t weird. It’s just completing the circle. I’m more worried about how you’re going to share a girl with Andre’s lieutenant and still stay on the force.”

“Yeah, I thought about that, too, but before we can do anything else, we need to get her to agree to date either of us in the first place.”

“Fair point, my boy, fair point. No, that the dragons are in the oven getting their arses roasted, how about you grab the bacon and fry that up? Are you sticking around or do you need to get to work?”

“I have a shift in a few hours.”

“Okay then, I’ll see to it that your girl gets one of those dragons. Hop to it now.”

Chapter 7

Zanya

I wake up to a glass of orange juice next to my bed along with a note that lunch is waiting for me in the kitchen. As my nerves outweigh my hunger at this stage, I opt for a long warm shower instead. My bag is waiting for me on the rocking chair Cameron had used last night, and I blush at the memories.

Way to make it awkward, Zanya.

Before grabbing a fresh set of clothes, I take in the room around me. It’s small, barely big enough for the double bed, chair and dresser. But tucked away in the corner is a small bookshelf stuffed with colorful books. Upon closer inspection, they’re a bunch of fairy tales with very well-worn covers. These books were loved. Are loved, if their presence here is any indication.

The bed is covered in the softest blue blanket that looks like it was hand knitted and the comforter is a blue and white pattern covered in bright daisies. The lace at the windows are framed by curtains that match the bedspread and the overall feel of the room is cozy and sweet.

I’ve made peace with the fact that I’ll probably be here for a while, so I take an extra minute to unpack, finding a spot for each treasured possession. My pacifier and blankie get placed under the pillow, and BOB is hidden underneath my knickers in the drawer.

Finally satisfied that everything is where it’s supposed to be, I down the OJ, grab my change of clothes, and head to the bedroom door in search of the bathroom I was promised.

And walk right into Johannes.

“You’re up.”

“Great observational skills, big guy.”

“I came to see if you’re ready for lunch yet. Cam’s mom sent food down from the big house. After that, I’ve been instructed to take you to meet Andre.”

“Okay, can I clean up first?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a spare towel in there for you.”

“I brought my own, thanks, Johannes,” I say, waiting for him to move away from the door. When it’s clear he’s not going to, I tilt my head to the side and look at him questioningly.

“Big guy?”

“Yes, Little Mouse?”

“Was there something else or can I have that shower now?”

Realization lights up his face and he stumbles backwards, rubbing the back of his neck. For a giant, he’s pretty adorable.

Once I’m clean and fresh, I head out in search of the kitchen. I pad down the hallway on socked feet and come across another bedroom. This one is much bigger and incredibly masculine. The room is made up of dark blues and grey and the required big-screen television is against the wall opposite the bed. Up next is a small study, the walls lined with bookshelves. A ridiculously old computer is on the large desk. If it wasn’t for the fact that the place was immaculately clean, I’d have said no one has set foot in there since the early two thousands.

“This was myOuma’shouse.”

I’m startled by Johannes’s voice behind me. He’s staring into the room, looking at the old desk, lost in his head.

“I spent every Christmas here as a child. She was the housekeeper for Andre’s parents. When I turned eighteen I stopped coming, believing I was too big and grown-up to visit her. Then she got sick. She didn’t tell me how bad it was ‘til it was too late. When I got here I only had a few weeks left with her. I nursed her to the end and haven’t been back to South Africa since. When she passed, Andre offered me a job.”

The sorrow in his voice is tangible, and I can’t take it so I grab his hand with my own.

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