“You cook?” she asked.
“I do a lot of things,” I said.
“Like kidnap folks?”
I glanced at her. “Like keep folks alive.”
Her gaze held mine a second too long. Then she looked away first, lips pressed together.
I flipped the salmon, lowered the heat, and started a quick pan sauce. I sautéed asparagus in another pan with garlic and a pinch of red pepper flakes, then killed the heat and shaved parmesan over it. I plated it pretty. Joia Jones swore that mattered—“We eat with our eyes first,”she had drilled into me.
I set the meal in front of my wife with a fork. “Eat.”
She was full of questions; I could tell. I could hear her thinking,Why you being nice now? What you want? What you planning?I didn’t blame her, but I didn’t like it.
“‘Sit.’ ‘Eat.’ You gon’ stroke my head and give me treats?” she asked sarcastically.
I looked at her. “My strokeisthe treat. You know that,malyshka,” I murmured.
That warm honey skin immediately went red, and she looked down at the plate.She picked up her fork and took a little bite like she was scared. Then she glanced up at me like she didn’t want to admit it was good. Smiling, I nodded.
“Uh-huh. Fooled yo’ ass, didn’t I?”
I leaned on the counter across from her, arms folded, watching her.
“Don’t stare at me,” she mumbled around a bite.
“I’m not staring,” I lied.
She shot me a look. “You staring.”
“I’m making sure you eating.”
She rolled her eyes. “You could look somewhere else.”
“I could. I don’t want to. Nothing here is as beautiful. Nothing anywhere is.”
Her fork paused. She glanced up at me, and for a second, I thought she was going to snap on me for being corny. Instead, she looked back down and kept eating. When she finished, she pushed the plate away like she was annoyed at herself for enjoying it.
“I’m done.”
I looked at the plate—damn near clean. “Yeah, you are.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t piss me off.”
I decided to ignore that, slid her a glass of water instead. “Drink.”
“Targen!” she snapped.
“I’m sorry. I guess Iamused to giving orders.”
“I’m not your employee. I’m your w?—”
She stopped herself as I gave her a triumphant little smile. Yeah, I’d heard her little slip. I was gon’ have her part of the“My husband, my husband, my husband,”brigade real soon. I cleaned up while she sat there watching me. When I was done, I turned to her.
“You can shower. I?—”
She interrupted me. “Separately.”
