Page 10 of Roped in Chaos
“Uh—food?”
Asher snorts, and my grandparents snicker.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but unless you’re around for dinner, which Asher normally isn’t, so you’ll hardly be as well, you cook on your own. We don’t just stop what we’re doing to cook a meal. You’re either here for it or you aren’t.”
“Oh. I, uh?—”
“Please tell me that you’ve cooked before,” Asher butts in.
“OfcourseI’ve cooked before, like..”
“Oh my god. You’ve never cooked.”
“I’ve made my pre-workout. And protein shakes.”
“Peter…” Asher coughs out. He has his hand over his mouth, probably to cover some ridiculous smile he has plastered on his face. “Phillis…what have you gotten me into?”
“Well, Asher,” Phillis says, “She can be taught. Give her a break.”
“Yeah give me a fucking break, Asher.” He stops smiling and stares at me. Oh shit, what’d I do?
“Well, you have fun with that.” He goes into the fridge to grab some ham and cheese and plops it on the counter. He pulls a couple of slices of bread out of the bread box and proceeds to make a sandwich. Phillis and Peter retire to their room, so it has gone silent except for the slight shuffle Asher is making. My stomach rumbles and breaks the silence. I grab at it like that’ll help, and I see Asher eye me over his shoulder.
“Want one, Princess?”
“I’m not a princess. But yes…with tomato, lettuce, and mustard.”
He scoffs and shakes his head.
He turns around holding a sandwich and takes a couple of steps toward me. He leans an arm down on the island while keeping the sandwich up in front of my face and stares at me.
“Beg for it.”
“Ex-Excuse me?” I say. I look around to see if anyone else has heard this, although I already know we’re alone. He leans in closer and maintains eye contact.
“Ha!” he barks, leaning back again “I’m just joking. Enjoy, Princess.”
“I’m not a fucking princess.” I grit.
“Prove it then” he hollers as he walks out the back door to whatever dirt-covered thing he’s doing next.
Fine, I fucking will.
“Phillis! I need to go shopping! Care to join?”
Chapter8
Tell Me Something I Don’t Know
Esme
We load up into the truck and head toward town. I didn’t realize that to go shopping, we had to drive thirty minutes one way. I’ve also been informed that if we’re going ‘into town,’ we’ll have to run some errands. I don’t care right now. I’m just excited to scratch the itch. I haven’t beenrealshopping in like five days. I had to buy a dress for the funeral, but I wouldn’t count that.
“So, where are we going to shop?” I ask.
“Well I was thinkin’ we’ll head to Ranch Land and see what they have first, and we can pick up some chicken scratch.”
“Where?”
