Ugh. Sex vibes galore. The two of them are so in love it’s pukeworthy.
Except…it’s also kind of adorable. The sunshine of happiness that envelops them.
Part of me is envious.
Part of me knows I’ll never have that, so why be envious?
Seems like I’ve spent my entire life envying others.
It’s getting old.
“So what do you say, Kelly?” Leif continues. “First thing tomorrow, we go out. We’ll find you employment.”
“Do I have a choice in this?”
“Of course you have a choice. I’m not the boss of you.”
“Right. You’re just my personal bodyguard.”
“If you choose to think of it that way,” he says. “If I were you, I would choose to think of it as another person who has your wellbeing at heart and who wants to help.”
God. I’m having such a hard time trying to dislike this guy. He’s such a do-gooder.
“Fine,” I relent. “Tomorrow, we go out together, and we look for a job for me. But I’m warning you. It’s not going to be easy.”
“I’ve always loved a challenge.”
He smiles, and in that moment, a tiny bit of the ice around my heart melts.
11
LEIF
What the hell? I’m supposed to make sure she’s safe, so I can’t get out of spending time with her. This way, maybe I can help. This woman needs something in her life. I don’t know if a job is the answer, but it can’t hurt. Clearly she doesn’t like being beholden to the Wolfe family. I can relate to that. I like standing on my own two feet as well.
She stays quiet while I talk with Buck and Aspen, and the time passes until finally, the bell on the oven timer rings.
Buck rises. “That’s my cue. Baby, get everyone situated at the table, and I will present my feast.”
The table is a small oak rectangle in a dinette area off the living room and kitchen. I smile at the red-checkered tablecloth covering it.
Buck made it look like an Italian restaurant. All that’s missing is a round bottle of Chianti in a wicker basket. Instead, the Chianti is in a regular wine bottle.
“Leif, why don’t you take a seat?” Aspen nods. “And Kelly, sit beside him.”
I hold out the chair for Kelly and she sits down. Then I take a seat next to her.
Buck first brings in a plate of garlic bread.
“Aspen wanted me to make a salad but I decided you should just enjoy my lasagna without being forced to eat something good for you.” He laughs.
“Next time we have you over,” Aspen says, “there will be a salad.”
Kelly says nothing.
“Help yourself to some garlic bread, and I’ll get the pièce de résistance.” Buck heads back into the kitchen.
Aspen picks up the plate of garlic bread and hands it to me. I take a piece and give it to Kelly. She also takes a piece and hands it back to Aspen, murmuring her thanks.
Kelly murmurs when she’s being nice. She shouts when she’s being mean.
She’s an interesting individual, and I’m intrigued by her. I may as well try to get to know her since I’m forced to be with her.
Forced proximity.
Fun.
At least she’s nice to look at. She looks hotter than forty hells in that miniskirt, and her legs are shapely in the black tights.
“Here we are!” Buck strides in, strutting like a fucking peacock, carrying the lasagna while wearing red and white checkered oven mitts.
I burst into laughter.
“What the fuck is so funny, Phoenix?”
“You are. You and your oven mitts.”
“Would you rather I sear my hands on this hot casserole?”
“Sorry, man. It’s just kind of hilarious.”
“Why is it funny?” Kelly asks.
I turn and look at her. Her eyes are narrowed slightly. Is she serious? She’s really asking me why this is funny?
“Buck is a Navy SEAL,” I say. “We fought for our lives in Afghanistan, rescued people. And he’s wearing oven mitts.”
“And you find that funny?”
“I find that fucking hilarious,” I laugh.
She cocks her head. Maybe she just doesn’t get it, and that’s okay.
“It’s okay,” Buck says to Kelly. “We’ve been giving each other shit since we first met.”
Kelly nods slightly.
“It smells fantastic.” I inhale. “Tomatoes, cheese, and lots and lots of meat.”
“Don’t forget the homemade pasta noodles,” Buck says.
“You made homemade pasta?”
Buck laughs again. “Gotcha! My mom makes homemade pasta. I don’t have that kind of time. Or the patience.”
“I’m sure it will be delicious as always, honey.” Aspen takes a seat.
“This casserole is hot.” Buck sets it on the table. “Hence the oven mitts that Phoenix finds so humorous.”
I choose not to make fun of Buck using the word “hence.”
“But since it’s so hot, just pass your plates to me, and I’ll serve you.” Buck nods to Kelly. “Ladies first.”
Kelly’s cheeks flush a beautiful pink as she hands him her plate. “Just a small piece, please.”
“You got it.” Buck puts a massive piece on her plate.
“That’s a small piece?” she asks.
“Yeah. If you’re Italian.” Buck puts the same size piece on Aspen’s plate. “Here you go, baby,”
“Hey, I didn’t ask for small piece.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty head. There’s plenty more where that came from.”
I hand Buck my plate. “I’ll have a fucking giant piece.”
“You got it, Phoenix.” He slaps a huge portion onto my plate, nearly knocking the slice of garlic bread off the side of it. I set my plate back down in front of me and inhale again.
Robust Italian food. Good stuff.
When you grow up with a Norwegian mother, you get a lot of lutefisk and lefse. It’s good, but there’s nothing like good old southern Italian cuisine.
“Dig in.” Buck unfolds his napkin and places it across his lap.
I cut off a small piece of lasagna with my fork and bring it to my mouth. I blow on it and then slide it between my lips.
Damn. Buck can cook. I swallow against the heat of lasagna. “How is it that I’ve never had this before?”
“The ingredients weren’t readily available in the trenches of Afghanistan.”
I put my fork down and make a face at Buck. “I mean since we been back, dickhead. I’ve had your antipasti but not this.”
Kelly stiffens beside me. Is she offended that I called Buck a dickhead? Hell, we’ve called each other worse.
“I don’t know. The antipasti takes about thirty seconds to put together. Other than that, I haven’t done a lot of cooking. You and I have been going from one place to another working for the Wolfes. But since Aspen and I can’t have our honeymoon, I want us to at least have a good home-cooked meal.”
“It’s delicious. Even your garlic bread is delicious.”
“Thanks, Phoenix. But I’ve got to be honest. All of this is nothing compared to what my mom can do.”