Page 58 of Stables

Dixon spins Paisley around so she’s facing us in a makeshift triangle.

It’s almost like we’re a little family. The realization makes my chest hurt.

Thisis how things are supposed to be.

Not fear, pain, and misery.

God, I hope this isn’t fleeting.

When he takes his hat off and sets it on the far side, then sits with his legs towards me, I can’t focus on anything else but how close he is.

But then the first taste hits my tongue. It’s the most delicious steak I’ve ever had.

He freezes, staring at me.

Shit, did I do something wrong?

Guiltily, I take another bite.

Oh my. It’s even better than the last.

Dixon groans a deep earthy rumble and drops his chin, shaking his head.

“What?” I mumble. “I’m sorry.”

His face snaps up. “Don’t apologize. I’ve never heard someone enjoy an old bull steak so much.” Flames lick through his irises. “I’ll bring you the finest cut off a finished steer if you promise to make that noise again.”

All I can do is nod, and swallow.

“More?” Paisley waves her fat fork in the air at me.

I’m thankful for the distraction.

All the ribeye is gone, only flattened pieces of zucchini remain.

I don’t think she’s eaten a single piece of the vegetable.

“I have plenty.” Dixon deftly slabs off another piece and disassembles it in no time.

“Thank you.” I feel bad that he’s the one feeding her, but when I glance down I’m surprised to see I’ve already eaten three quarters of my own portion.

I guess I was hungrier than I thought.

When everyone is finished, Dixon jumps up and starts gathering the dishes.

Is he for real?

“Does the dishwasher have clean or dirty?” he asks, balancing all of our plates easily in one hand.

“Um, it’s empty, but I, uh, I don’t have any detergent for it.” Heat courses up my cheeks and neck.

The soap is an expensive luxury I haven’t been able to buy for months.

Dixon pauses, staring down at the half-opened door, then turns and sets them next to the sink.

“I can get them, you cooked.” I feel like he’s done so much already, the least I can do is scrub a couple of plates.

His dark eyes narrow as they burn into me before he steps back. “Okay. I have to get the grill out of my bed anyway.” His mustache twitches. “The zucchini was a nice touch, thank you.”

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