Page 83 of Skin Deep

Chapter26

Harrison

It was the middle of the night. My brothers were out doing whatever Cash Kelly had them doing. They were going to crash at a safe house after, especially because of what had happened yesterday. The detective who was on the case decided to leave two unmarked cars on the street for a couple of days in case anyone came back. Kelly didn’t like it, because this was his game, but with everything going on, what was he going to do?

Georgina and I were in the kitchen, raiding the refrigerator. She had on my old sweatshirt, old ball cap turned backward, and nothing else. The sweatshirt fell past her thighs, and it only upped how sexy her legs were. Everything about her deserved to be immortalized in some way.

I never wanted to procreate with a woman so badly in my fucking life. I’d wear these old sweatpants for her until it happened. She couldn’t keep her hands off me when I did.

“You want me to make fresh pasta?” she said, holding out a carton of eggs. Her eyes narrowed. “What is that look for?”

She had no idea how many times my future had flashed before my eyes when I’d only had the seven days—when I was with her. But even after the seven days, it kept happening. And it kept adjusting to fit a life that would fit us.

I shrugged, downing a glass of orange juice. “There’s a lot of shit going on right now. Things are uncertain.”

“Nothing is ever certain.” She shrugged, placing the carton down. “These eggs might be bad, and we will not know it until after.”

The more time I spent with her, the more I understood what Nicodemo had meant when he’d said she was a complicated woman. He didn’t mean it in a negative way, either. He meant that she had more than one side. The fearless one, and the one that needed the sun. And in between them, she had many facets to discover.

She sighed when I slipped my hands around her waist, kissing the side of her neck as she poured out some flour on the counter and made a little hill with a dent in it. Almost like a small volcano. She cracked the eggs and put them in the indention. Her hands and steps were sure as she turned the ingredients into dough for fresh pasta.

“Look at that,” I said. “You’re magical.”

She laughed. “Not so much. I just know how to cook. You can boil water for me?”

“I can try,” I said with a laugh. “We’ll see if I don’t burn it.”

“Ooh, look who came to spend time with us.” She leaned down so Augustus could kiss her on the nose. He was still stretching his back legs. His paws reminded me of a lion’s, but he was hairy like a little wolf or bear.

“He’s only here for the food,” I said, setting the pan on the stove.

She gave him a piece of banana, and he took it into the corner, looking up at me like I might take it from him. He kept an eye out for Newman, too, who would try to dive bomb him for a piece. Lach took that little shit with him, though. Probably stashed him at whatever house he was staying at.

She laughed. “I will not let him take it from my boy!” She told him something in Sicilian, and I felt completely left out.

He was spoiled already. She’d bought him a ton of stuff, and the proof of it was all over the floor.

I took a seat at the table as she continued to cook. Conversation flowed easily between us as the entire house started to smell like a fancy Italian restaurant, though she used very few ingredients.

She asked about the bar fight at Rhinestone Cowboy Saloon. She’d been listening when the detective was grilling me.

“Wayne?” Her laughter rose to the roof. “What is a manure bag? Animal shit comes like this?”

“In fertilizer,” I said. “Which I think he was implying I was going to be.”

“Hahahaha!”

“You find that funny?”

“Sì,” she said, doing something at the stove that made steam rise around her. “You get a grump face.”

“What the fuck is a grump face?”

“You have a mirror close?”

“No.”

She turned around and made a pinched face, then laughed even louder. Then she sighed. “What happened after you were called a manure bag?”

---