“Whisky,” my voice broke on his name and I shoved my face in his chest. I dropped the ice on the floor and clutched onto his sweater at either side of my face.
Then it hit me and it hit me hard. I pushed away, out of his arms and stomped my foot. “That fucking asshole! ” I screamed.
Shamus woofed.
My eyes turned to the dog. He was standing at the edge of the cabinets, his body tense, staring at me.
“Sorry Shamus,” I said.
At his name, his tail started wagging and he came and pressed against me. I leaned down to give him a body rub and picked up the ice. I tossed it underhand into the sink and kept rubbing Shamus’s body but looked up at Hank.
“I’m going to fucking kill that motherfucker,” I announced.
Hank stared down at me.
“He pushed Indy down the stairs,” I continued.
“Roxie, calm down.”
“I’m not going to fucking calm down. I’m going to hunt that bastard down and murder him.”
“Oh fuck,” Hank rocked back on his heels, his eyes went to the ceiling, his hands went to his hips.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothin’.”
“What?” I asked, louder.
His eyes came back to me. “You aren’t huntin’ anyone down.”
“Wel … no,” I said, staring at him like he was crazy. “I was just saying that because I’m mad as hel . I wouldn’t begin to know how to hunt him down.”
“Let me handle it,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Seriously.”
I straightened from the Shamus Body Rub and Shamus sat on my feet.
“I said okay.”
“Indy comes to you with any bright ideas, you say, I’m handling it.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Jet, Daisy, my fuckin’ sister, come to you with grand schemes, you tel them I’m handling it.”
“Okay,” I repeated, my brows drawing together, thinking maybe he’d gone a little round the bend. “Whisky, are you al right?”
“I know how those women work. You want to get even with Flynn, you’re angry and they’l talk you into it.”
“Hank, I said I wasn’t going to –”
“It won’t even seem that way. They’l make it seem like it’s your idea.”
“Whisky.”
“Tex either.”
Good God.
“Hank, I said oh…kay. ”
“Promise me.”
Jeez!
“Hank!”
“Just do it, Sunshine.”
I sighed. He had gone round the bend.
“Okay, I promise.”
He stared at me a beat then he took in a breath. Then, his fingers slid into my hair on either side of my head and his fingers slid into my hair on either side of my head and he did a little shake. Pieces of straw came out, not a lot, four or five and I watched them float down.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I watched the straw settle on his tiled floor.
He used his hands on my head to tilt it up to face him. “I don’t want to hear you say you’re sorry again.” He didn’t say this nice or sweet. He said it angry.
I swal owed and stared.
Then I said, “Hank?”
His hands went to the sides of my neck. “You aren’t the cause of this, Flynn is. Got me?”
I nodded.
“I’m not angry at you. I’m just angry,” he said.
“Okay,” I said, for like the bil ionth time in the last five minutes.
He moved on to another subject and I had to admit, I was relieved.
“How’s your hand?”
“It hurts like a mother,” I told him.
I watched as his anger slid away and he smiled at me. I smiled back. We shared a moment of happiness at the thought of me getting my own back, even a little bit, with Bil y. His arms came around me and he pul ed me to him, his hands drifting down my back, fitting my body to his.
Shamus backed out from between us and sauntered to his doggie bed in the TV room. He was a smart dog; quickly learning the dril between Hank and me.
“How’s everything else?” Hank asked, his voice had changed, sounding slightly husky.
changed, sounding slightly husky.
I didn’t have to ask what he meant; his hands and tone were doing the talking.
I tilted my head back to look at him and slid my arms around his waist. “I’m fine.”
“You owe me,” he said.
I blinked at him then remembered.
“Oh. Yeah.”
He gave me a light kiss. “Let’s get you a hot shower, some ibuprofen and we’l go to bed.”
I nodded.
“Then you can erase my day,” he told me, turning and tucking me into his side, his arm around my shoulders.
We started walking to the bedroom.
“Maybe you should erase my night,” I told him.
“No, I’m thinkin’ you should erase my day.”
“My night was worse than your day,” I said.
“I had a ful shitty day, you just had a half a shitty night.” This was true.
“Okay, I’l erase your day,” I said.
He hit the lights as we walked out of the kitchen.
Chapter Eighteen
Tangerine and Chocolate Wedding
I was lying on my bel y, my arms around a pil ow, fast asleep, when I felt the sheet slide down my back, low, lower, lowest, to come to rest at the top of my behind.
I twisted my head around sleepily and looked at Hank’s shadow in the dark.
“Whisky?” I cal ed, stil groggy.