Page 24 of July 27

From the moment Ruger told her he was getting a house for the both of them, her mood lifted at the prospect of living with him. Though, she kept reminding herself that it wasn't permanent.

Ruger made no mention of what his offer to live with him meant. She was afraid to assume it suggested he wanted her around. But those thoughts crept in and warmed her to a dizzying level.

Ruger pushed a KFC bucket toward her. "Hungry?"

The smell alone had her stomach growling. "Yeah."

"Dish us up a meal on those paper plates I bought." Ruger motioned to the counter.

She couldn't remember the last time she had fried chicken. Inhaling deeply, anticipating the meal. The mashed potatoes and gravy. The buttery roll.

Instead of making him eat standing beside the counter, she carried the plates to the simple two-person table underneath the window on the opposite side of the kitchen.

Sitting across from him, she quivered in awareness of the proximity. Even though they had more room in the cottage than in the room at the clubhouse, the atmosphere seemed smaller and more intimate. It was also quiet. Just the two of them.

She held her hands above the table, wavering on what to do. Normally, she'd use her fingers, but she'd never eaten chicken in front of someone besides her brother and his friends. "I should get forks."

Ruger held a piece of chicken in his hand and motioned at her plate. "I'll grab them. Go ahead and eat your chicken."

She picked the meat off the breastbone and put the piece in her mouth. The salty seasoning hit her tongue and exploded. She closed her eyes and moaned. It was the best thing she'd tasted in her life.

Opening her eyes, she picked another piece of meat from the bone and popped it in her mouth. She licked her fingers and caught Ruger staring at her. His food was forgotten.

She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and swallowed. "Sorry."

"Don't." He tilted his head. "Ever. Be. Sorry."

She leaned against the table, getting closer to him. "The chicken is delicious."

Eating was a second thought to her since Ruger saved her from the kidnappers. But today, her appetite returned with a vengeance.

He bit into the meat and grunted. She smiled, knowing he enjoyed the meal, too. It was crazy to be that happy when her life had completely fallen apart. But Ruger made her feel safe. He gave her the normalcy she only dreamed about having as a child. Something her dad and brother never achieved.

After she finished her chicken piece and half the mashed potatoes, she retrieved a Solo cup from the package Ruger had bought earlier and filled it with water.

Ruger stepped around her, throwing his trash in one of the grocery sacks and hanging it on the knob to the cabinet underneath the sink. "I'll have to get a trash bin."

She nodded. Earlier, they'd tried to think of everything they'd need to live in the cottage. She knew they'd forget a few things. The lack of unnecessary items never bothered her. She was happy as long as he was with her. It was easy enough to use the empty grocery sacks for trash—she'd done it many times before when living at home.

He'd done more than required for her to be comfortable in the cottage. She'd happily sleep on the floor if only to stay with him.

"What's that smile for?"

She put down the cup and flew at him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and pressed her body against him. Closing her eyes, she could only show him how much she appreciated him by touching him.

She'd been with him long enough to know he wasn't much of a talker. He shrugged off any intimacy, even though she could see how he looked at her. Nobody had taken such care of her, protecting not only her well-being but her mental state.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He kissed the top of her head. She sighed, wishing he'd kiss her on the lips and hold her longer. Instead, he stepped away from her and went into the living room.

She stood, dazed and with a full stomach from dinner.

Voices from the television filled the cottage, shaking her out of wishing for things out of her reach. She cleaned the kitchen and finished putting the remaining groceries in the cabinet. He'd even bought real silverware and a few sharp knives. Though, they'd have to wait until he bought dish soap. It was one of the household items they forgot on the list.

She put the knives in the sink. Pain heated her finger. She yelped, jerked her hand up, and grabbed her finger.

Blood sprang to the surface. The room spun. She swayed.

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