Page 81 of Three Pucking Words
I, on the other hand, am flattered. “You told her about me, huh?” I ask, eyebrow arching with interest. “Was this after you ditched me at the aquarium? Or when I made you have dinner with me while we went over how my career works?”
There’s a lot more I’d like to know, but something tells me I’m not going to get any answers.
All she says is, “Neither,” in a quiet tone.
And that only makes me more curious, but I drop it for now. “Come on in. Gemma has been waiting for you and Puck since she woke up. I had to bribe her to get changed and brush her hair.”
Honor follows me in, stopping in the foyer with the same hesitancy as usual when she’s in my space. Her eyes go to the spot I’d backed her into the wall, and her cheeks flush. What I would give to get in that mind of hers right now…
She clears her throat. “What did you bribe her with?”
I watch as she takes her shoes off and carefully places them off to the side. “A chocolate bar. That wasaftershe ate the last pumpkin donut and had half of a cinnamon roll.”
Honor’s eyebrows go up silently.
“I know. I’m a shit dad,” I joke.
“Daddy!” Gemma says from where she’s sitting on the couch watching a cartoon. “You’re not supposed to say that word. It’s bad.”
At least she stopped repeating the bad words she hears. Once, I said the dreaded F-word when I was with Sebastian, Tori, and Beckham, and Gemma came up to me and said,“We’re not supposed to say ‘fuck’.”
Sebastian spit his beer out.
Tori’s eyes watered as she laughed.
Beckham had no idea what was going on.
It took a while before it was drilled into her head not to say the words, but to remind me—and others, since she’s correctedSebastian a handful of times—not to say them at all. Instead, we’ve come up with new versions. ‘Fuck’ turned into ‘puck’, which was a random play on words that appeased her corrupted ears and amused the adults around her.
“You’re right, Cookie Monster. I’m sorry.”
I guide Honor into the kitchen, where a fresh tray of snickerdoodles are waiting on a plate. “Have one,” I tell her, sliding them closer to her. “There’s no pumpkin. Promise.”
“You didn’t have—”
“I wanted to,” I insist before she can finish her sentence. “I would have made more brownies since they’re your favorite, but I didn’t have the right ingredients. I debated on blondies, but they’re not as good in my opinion.”
She shifts her weight from one foot to another. “You don’t need to buy my friendship with food, Bodhi.”
It’s not your friendship I want,I almost say.
“I know,” I tell her instead. “But I enjoy baking for people I care about.”
It’s a neutral statement. Not too flirty to make her uncomfortable but blunt enough for her to understand she’s one of the few people I care for.
Apparently, shedoesn’tunderstand. “Is that an extensive list?”
I shake my head, watching her pick up a cookie. “No. It’s exclusive. I’m particular about who I let into my life.”
She stares at her cookie. “I’m honored then.”
I smile easily. “You should be.”
She rolls her eyes and takes a bite. I watch her a little too closely, and just about come when I hear the soft moan of approval. “These are…” She covers her mouth as she chews, shaking her head in disbelief.
Annnnd I really need to stop staring at her mouth before I have a full-on erection all day.
Clearing my throat, I jab my thumb toward the dining room. “We should start carving before Gemma loses interest…”
