Page 33 of Rules to Love By

“Iris didn’t owe you anything either, did she? And she raised you, so whatever makes you think that, stop it.”

“Bossy.”

“You know this about me.” He turned back to his cooking. “And besides, I dare you to try and leave without Mildred locking you in.”

“For the record, that’s creepy.”

“Oh, please. Say that louder. I want her to hear you.”

“She can hear me.”

The basement door creaked open, one slow inch at a time, and the back door shut, the pot skidding loudly across the floor.

“See?” Marcus said. “Creepy.”

“You dared her to be creepy. She rose to the occasion. She’s like that.”

Marcus got up and replaced the pot in the back door, then shut the basement door and held it shut. It shuddered under his hand, like Mildred was trying to open it again. “Okay, okay,” he muttered. “I get it. Not like I was actually going anywhere, so you don’t have to lock me in the basement. Slow your roll, you weird pile of bricks and sticks.”

Tris snickered. “Sleep with one eye open tonight.”

“Do you think if I wait until morning to shower, she’ll have forgotten to turn off the hot water on me?”

“Wouldn’t put money on it.” Tris pulled a pan out of the oven to carry it over and scoop the wellington and roasted potatoes onto his plate. “Eat up.”

“God, that smells good.”

“Did you expect anything else?”

“Not from you and Kreed.” Marcus dug in, and for a time, his focus was all on the delicious food while Tris began to clean up for the end of the day and prep a few things for the morning.

In the background, their server, Jake, quietly came and went for coffee and desserts and to wash dishes.

“So,” Marcus said finally, sitting back, stomach full and the queasiness finally dissipated. “Did you talk to Kreed about your plans?”

“What plans?”

Marcus tilted his head. “The shelter.”

“What about it?”

“You are planning on running the kitchen over there, right?”

Tris shrugged. “I thought about it. But I’ve never run a kitchen.” He shot a glance at Marcus. “You have.”

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“Why?”

Marcus squirmed.

“You know you can do it.”

“I sort of like being a handyman. I seem to be not terrible at it.”

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