Page 170 of Mayhem and Minnie

“Well…” I start, clearing my throat.

“Well?” She taps her foot against the floor.

She’s wearing the platform sneakers I bought her, which make her slightly taller. But she’s still a little tidbit who’s awfully cute when angry.

“You’re highly entertaining,” I finally say. I nod to myself—yes, that’s good. “You provide me with daily amusement.”

She gawks at me.

“Am I a circus animal to provide you with daily amusement?” she asks in outrage.

“Minnie.” I sigh. “You’re misconstruing everything I’m saying.”

“Then say better things,” she cries out.

“What do you want me to say? Tell me and I’ll say it,” I add, hoping to pacify her somehow.

My stomach rumbles. I was too lost in my research that I forgot to eat. It’s been hours. And I don’t want any other food than hers. I’ve gotten too used to it, and switching to anything else will be a huge downgrade. Nah, scratch that. Eating anything other than food cooked by Minnie would be both a tragedy and a betrayal—both to my stomach and to her.

“That’s not the point, Marlowe. You have to say it because you feel it, not because I tell you to say it. Otherwise, it’s not genuine.”

My lips flatten in contemplation.

“I’m not good with words,” I mutter under my breath.

“What’s that?” she asks, taking a step forward.

“I don’t know what to say because I’ve never had to say something like this before,” I say with a sigh. “I don’t know what you women like or what you want to hear.”

“The truth,” she simply states. “I want to know that you value me for more than the services I provide to you. Because anyone can do that.”

“Now wait a moment,” I interrupt her. “That’s not true. No one can cook the way you do. No one can make me smile the way you do. And certainly no one can make me overlook my duties the way you do.”

She flutters her lashes in disbelief.

“Thank you. The first two are positive. But the third… I’m not sure how it can be a good thing that I make you overlook your duties.”

“But don’t you see?” I grit out, exasperated. “I’m someone very set in my ways. I never stray from my routine. No one could make me do that—except you.”

She’s still staring at me, so I continue, trying my best to see things from my perspective.

“You’re lively and cheerful and you find joy in the smallest things, which in turn makes me find joy them, too. I’ve never had that before,” I admit. “You’re like a ray of sunshine that’s snuck through the grids of my window and I’m doing my damn hardest to trap it inside and never let it go.”

She’s quiet for moments on end as she regards me. I’m almost sweating thinking I might have said something wrong—again.

But then she speaks.

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she murmurs.

My lips slowly spread into a smile.

Coming toward me, she raises herself on the tips of her toes and presses her lips against my cheek.

My heart stops in my chest.

I gulp down nervously.

Her lips linger on my cheek, and I have to fight against myself to not pull her into my arms and ravish her right then and there.

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