Page 18 of Gooey

Leading my girl out of the room, I shut the door behind us and start walking with her hand-in-hand. I have to purposely keep my steps short and slow so she can keep up, but I don’t mind one bit.

“What kind of food do you guys have here?” she questions, looking up at me with a curious look. Before I can answer, she makes a funny face, cutely scrunching her nose. “What do you even do here? My dad always just said it was top secret.”

“We have a bunch of different food,” I reply with a shrug. “What have you been eating this whole time, sugar?”

Shyly, she lifts a shoulder. “Stuff he could grab easily I guess. Granola bars, fruit, candy, sandwiches.”

There’s that itch to kill a deadman again.

“Well, we’ll have to get you some nice hot food then.” Scratching the back of my neck, I continue to answer her second question. “And the facility’s exact location is a secret, but what we do is nothing nefarious, I assure you. Oil stuff, research, engineering, welding… we do a lot. Me personally though? I run things, stepping in wherever, if I’m needed.”

“Sounds like too much work,” she quips. “You deserve a vacation.”

Squeezing her hand, I tell her, “Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure the rest of my life is going to feel like a vacation with you at my side.”

“Aww,” she gushes, tucking into my side as much as she can while continuing to walk with me. “You’re a big sweetie, you know that?”

I would have never described myself as sweet before, but I can admit I’ll always be sweet to her. I’ll be whatever she wants me to be.

“Just for you, sugar.”

She practically swoons, making a happy little noise and lifting our hands to kiss the back of mine. Moving forward, we enter our destination and the dining hall comes to a near-silent pause as we’re noticed. My spine straightens and I resist the urge to pull Winter behind me to shield her from prying eyes.

“You okay, handsome?” she asks quietly.

“They’re all looking at you and I hate it,” I grunt.

She frowns. “You want to keep me hidden too?”

Too. Like her father did.

“No, never,” I reply firmly. “I just want to stab all of their eyes out. You aren’t theirs to look at.”

“But I’m yours?”

“Fuck yes, you are.”

Her responding smirk is priceless. “Then it doesn’t matter if they look. I’m a taken woman. I’m also a hungry woman, so?—”

Caring more about taking care of her than who gets to see her, I interrupt her sentence and bring her over to the food options. It doesn’t take long for her to pick a pasta dish, a small bag of chips, and an electrolyte drink.

It doesn’t take long for her to convince me to eat at one of the tables rather than going back to our room either.

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