Page 20 of Cuts Like an Angel: Part 2

“I see how well that worked.” He held up her arm where blood dripped from a cut before pulling her up the stairs. She followed him, her eyes on his naked bottom as she went.

In the room, she got clothes from the drawers while William returned with a small metal box that contained band aids. She sputtered again, and it seemed to set him off as well. They both coughed as he wiped her cut with a cloth then bandaged it.

“Barely a scratch,” he wheezed. “Compared to what I did to the kitchen.”

She put her forearm over her eyes, fighting a sob.

“Rosie,” he said, pulling her in his arms. “It’s okay.”

She let out the sob on his chest. “So, the first secret’s out. I can’t really cook. I never had a lot of food to practice with. God, now I sound like a whiner. I’m not complaining.”

“Shhhh, I’m happy you can’t cook. Makes me feel useful. I’ll do all the cooking. I’ll let you clean. Deal?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around him. “I let Stitches out and got side tracked; then when I went to go back in, the door was locked.”

“It locks itself.”

“Right,” she quipped.

“How about we go eat at our favorite spot in the village? Remember? Where we met?”

She raised her face to his. “I would like that. Are they even open?”

“They are,” he beamed, like he was calming a distraught three-year-old. She felt like one after that stupid stunt.

---