I cleaned my hands off on the gray-striped dishtowel Clare had ordered to replace Elisabeth’s pink ones. “So put on a jacket.”
She tipped her chin to the plate of meat. “You know I could pan-sear those and no one would have to put on a jacket.”
“I love your food, but you’ve cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day since we’ve been here. After two weeks, I think I can handle a meal.”
“But you’ve bought all the food, and Tessa new clothes, and…” She trailed off, biting on her thumbnail again.
“So?” I drawled.
“So I need to be pulling my weight.”
“I’m not saying you don’t. But you don’t have to pull all the weight.”
“I’m not pulling all the weight. I mean…I’m not sure cereal can even be considered ‘cooking breakfast.’” She tossed me a pair of air quotes.
I arched an eyebrow. “Did I have to pour the milk?”
She shyly glanced away. “Well, no.”
“Then it’s considered cooking breakfast.” I grabbed the plate and headed around the bar. “Besides, you put forty dollars’ worth of steaks in a frying pan, we’re gonna have problems. There’s one way to cook a steak, and it’s on a grill. End of story.”
She rolled her eyes as I stopped beside her.
“Now, get up here and give me a kiss, pull on a jacket, and meet me on the deck.”
She stood off the stool and lifted up on her toes to touch her lips to mine. “You want me to grab you a beer?”
I shot her a grin. “So you do understand the fine art of grilling.”
She rolled her eyes again. “I’m teachable.”
I chuckled before turning away and calling out to Tessa, “Sweet girl, we’re going outside. You want to come, or are you waiting on pins and needles to see if he can actually find the girl to fit the glass slipper for the seven thousandth time?”
She laughed loudly. “Dis not Cinderella, Heaf!”
I scoffed. “Oh, well, excuse me. You gonna be able to tear yourself away?”
“After he kiss her,” she said, turning her attention back to the TV.
I bulged my eyes over my shoulder at Clare. She was now in one of my hoodies and carrying a beer my way.
“Why is her favorite part always them kissing? This does not bode well for our future.”
“She’s a girl, honey. She’ll be chasing boys around the playground, trying to kiss them first chance she gets.”
I curled my lip and shook my head. “Hopefully, Roman pays well, because I see a private all-girls school in her future.”
Clare smirked and called to Tessa, “Okay, baby. We’ll be on the deck. Come out when it’s over.”
“’Kay,” she chirped.
I was contemplating how hard it would be to check her into a convent before preschool when I felt Clare’s hand on my back.
“Let it go,” she said. “I’m starving.”
Begrudgingly, I led the way to the sliding glass door.
“Hit the alarm,” I said, shifting the plate of steaks to one hand so I could take my beer from her.
After she disarmed the alarm, she slid the door open and we both walked out.
She started to close the door as I emptied my hands on the side of the grill.
“Leave it open,” I told her.
She continued to slide it shut. “All the hot air is escaping.”
“Babe, leave it open so we can hear her if she needs anything.”
“I’ll just crack it. I need to talk to you about something private.”
“What kind of private?” I walked over and caught the top of the door over her head. “Leave. It. Open.”
She narrowed her eyes and thinned her lips. “Above and beyond wasting money on heating the backyard, you’re going to freeze her out in there if we leave it all the way open.”
I shoved the door wide open. “Good. Then she’ll be forced to come out here to ask for a jacket and hopefully miss the fucking kiss.”
She laughed but gave up on the door.
I twisted the top of the beer off and went to work on the grill. “What’d you want to talk about?”
“Well,” she started at the same time my phone began ringing.
Tomlinson’s number showed on my display.
“Hold that thought,” I said, lifting the phone to my ear. “Light.”
“We picked up Brock Nolan today,” he stated as his greeting.
My back shot ramrod straight, and my gaze sliced over to Clare, who was lounging in the white Adirondack chair she had long since claimed as her own.
Nolan was Noir’s number two. He was one of the few men he’d trusted with Clare. Which was insane even for Noir because, by all accounts, Nolan was off in the head. I wouldn’t have trusted that scum with a goldfish, much less my wife and child. I had often seen him lurking around at the gym. And not just because he was keeping tabs on her. His eyes were always aimed at her ass or tits.
“He with Noir?” I asked.
Clare’s attention snapped to mine.
I pushed the button to put him on speakerphone.
“Nope,” Tomlinson said. “But guess what? The asshole hasn’t stopped chirping since we got him in custody.”
“No shit?”