Page 22 of Cuts Like an Angel: Part 2

She stared at him for a long minute. “Fine. My name is Rosie.”

“Hello Rosie. I think you’re gorgeous. Can I take you out to dinner?”

“Why, because I …” He shoved a finger over her lips to silence whatever it was she was about to say.

“You say, yes William, I would love to, and when we come home, I’m going to let you take me to bed and have me for dessert.”

Rosie stared at him, the corners of her mouth twitching as she tried to hold her laugh in.

“Say it.”

“Yes William. I would love to.”

“And when we come home?” he said, raising his eyebrows at her.

“I’m not saying that,” she giggled, face flushing.

Her shoulders sagged as she glanced behind him at the pan and the stove. “I am really sorry, though.”

He grabbed her face. “Rosie, Rosie, Rosie. It’s just a pan, okay? I don’t care. We’ll go shopping tomorrow if it makes you feel better. But I have lots of pans.”

“You have one less.”

“Rosie …”

She sighed. “Promise you’re not bothered?”

“I promise.” He grabbed the pan as if to demonstrate and threw it back in the rubbish bin behind her. “Now, I’m starving. Go get changed, and I’ll get dressed. Something sexy so everyone can be jealous that you’re mine. But not too sexy. I’m hungry and would like to get out of the door.”

“But shouldn’t we …”

He shook his head before she could say more and then grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her towards the door, pushing her out of the kitchen. It was just a pan. Probably the one good trait he had because of his mother was caring about people rather than things. He’d craved people forever. But things … they were always there.

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