Page 37 of Knotted Laces

Enough.

This is Cam Jackson.

BabyJackson.

I cannot be thinking of his ass or his big dick or?—

Thunk.

I jump as he sets a plate in front of me then one in front of the chair across from me and folds his big body into it.

“Eat,” he orders quietly, passing me a napkin and fork. “And don’t bitch about the green stuff. It’s good for you.”

“It may be good for me,” I mutter, but I pick up the fork and start eating, finding myself pleasantly surprised by the taste—it’s not have bad, but, “it’s still green.”

Mirth in his golden-green eyes. “Yeah, baby. It’s still green.”

My lungs freeze, and I know I should tell him off for using that endearment, but…

I can’t.

It settles somewhere in me, across a deep-seated wound that I didn’t know I had.

A man calling mebaby. A man cooking me dinner. A man looking after me.

I mentally slap myself.

I’m fine. I can take care of myself and?—

“Can I have a Snickers?”

I look up, shocked to see his plate is already empty, and roll my eyes before passing over the requested candy bar. “Jackson hollow leg syndrome strikes again?”

A big shoulder lifts and drops. “Not my fault that you pick at your veggies like a toddler.”

I purposely stab a piece of broccoli, shove it in my mouth, and chew. “See?” I say around my bite. “I can eat my vegetables.”

It just doesn’t mean I like them.

A grin. “Yes, I can see that you’re enjoying them so much.”

“Not my fault you can’t cook.”

His grin widens. “Rude, Ats.”

There’s a mix of relief and disappointment when he uses my name instead ofbaby, but I push it aside, finish the green stuff, and then start in on the chicken. “You’re not a half-bad cook.”

“And you bring good Car Snacks.”

I roll my eyes. “Cool it with the cockiness, mister. I’m still pissed I had to come and wake up your drunk ass.”

That grin fades, and I kick myself. “I’m sorry.”

I set down my fork. “No,” I say. “I’m being a bitch. I was worried about you and mad you left the door unlocked and frustrated that you scared your family.”

And that you were naked, and I saw?—

Enough.

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