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"I, ah..." was a pretty awful cook.

"Anything will do, hop to," he demanded, pushing me off his lap and I took my feet in a weird little daze.

Hop to?

Hop to?

He would pay for that later. I gave him a look that told him just that. "Fine," I snapped, making my way toward the kitchen.

"Trained her pretty good," Renny said, just to goad me. "She couldn't follow an order for shit when she showed up."

I was pretty sure an actual growl escaped me as I turned into the kitchen and went for the fridge that Repo always kept well-stocked. It was full, of course, but I didn't know any recipes.

But I grabbed about half the contents of the fridge and dropped them on the counter anyway. I was leaning down trying to drag a giant pot out of a cabinet when I heard a male voice from above me. "Not much of a cook, huh?" Laz's voice asked, making me straighten, pot between my hands.

I put it down on the stove. "Why would you say that?"

"Honey, you took out a bottle of maple syrup along with the butter, hot sauce, and all the meat and fruit in the fridge."

Okay, so maybe I wondered if maybe you made dishes a little sweet when you added a little syrup. And apparently that was wholly wrong.

"He knows I don't cook," I let him in on. "He's just flashing around his peacock feathers so he looks like a badass around you new guys."

Lazarus chuckled, putting the hot sauce, butter, and maple syrup away. "So the pot," he said, jerking his chin toward it. "Were you thinking soup or stew or chili?"

"I was thinking of throwing everything in it and see what happens."

"A fire, most likely," he smiled, making little crows feet form next to his eyes. I found them endearing. "My ma, growing up, we didn't have a whole fuck of a lot of money, not even for food. So she used to make what she called Kitchen Sink Soup when we had just little bits left of a bunch of shit. She hated wasting anything."

"Kitchen Sink Soup?"

"Yeah, meaning everything but the kitchen sink," he let me in on, reaching for the spinach and ripping it with his hands and dropping it into the pot. "Funny thing, no matter what she threw in, it was always good. Not even you can fuck it up," he said with a smirk that I found I really liked.

"So what can I do?" I asked, looking at the pile of food.

"Peel carrots and then slice them."

"I can handle that," I agreed, looking through all the drawers before I finally found the peeler.

Then we set to work, talking occasionally.

"Your mom didn't cook?" he asked as I dropped some of the onions I had been chopping into the pot.

"My mom was into appearances. So she would order in and plate the food then toss the take-away containers and pretend she cooked."

"Why the fuck would she do that?"

"Because she was looking for any way to make her husband love her," Renny supplied, making me jump hard, jerking my head over to find him leaning in the doorway, looking like he had been there a good long time.

He was right, damn him.

And that was personal.

"Don't worry, Mina," Laz said, as if sensing the tension between me and Renny, "there are other ways to a man's heart than through his stomach."

"Laz, the back bar needs to be cleaned," Renny said dismissively.

Lazarus stiffened at the same time I did. Because Laz was in recovery. Renny knew that. And he was making him go clean the back bar? For no reason?

"Not a problem is it?" he went on, his tone dead.

And there he was- cold, unpredictable Renny.

I had started to forget he existed.

"Nope, not a problem," Laz said, shaking his head as he went to the sink to wash his hands. "Just let it simmer and don't touch it," he told me, giving me a small smile. "It should pull through just fine."

"Thanks for your help," I called to his retreating form as Renny pushed off the doorway and moved in. I advanced on him immediately, shoving my finger into his chest. My voice when I spoke was low and livid. "What the fuck was that about?" I hissed.

"He does what he's told to do. I told him to clean the back bar."

"He's a recovering alcoholic, you ass!"

"And now we will see if he has self-control around those bottles," he shrugged.

I exhaled hard. Anger wasn't going to work on this version of Renny. I had seen him and Duke go at it several times and it never changed anything. Better to approach him with calm.

"Why are you being a dick right now?" I asked, tone even.

"I'm doing my job. You're supposed to be doing your job too. Or did you forget that?"

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