Page 47 of Deadly Conflicts

13

Thirteen

“How much longer?”

Mandy appeared at James’ elbow and fixed him with a cute smile. She was dressed down in simple cut-off shorts and a Jaws tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, but she made James’ heart skip a beat when he gazed at her.

“We haven’t even put the burgers on the grill yet,” James replied, waving his spatula for emphasis. “Chill out, wife. I will feed you. Don’t fret.”

“I love it when you use words like that,” Mandy teased, resting her chin on his shoulder. “I’m hungry, though.”

“You know, there’s a simple solution to that problem.” Grady stood next to James, a beer in his hand. “You could always pretend you’re the wife and do the cooking.”

James punched his brother’s arm and shook his head. “Don’t say things like that to her.”

“That’s right,” Mandy said, feigning anger. “It’s not a woman’s place to cook food anymore. Get out of the past, butthead.”

James loved it when his wife got feisty – especially with Grady. They had a unique relationship. They fought like cats and dogs – almost like brother and sister – but when she was really upset, he was almost always the one who helped her out of her doldrums. They enjoyed messing around with one another, though. “That’s right,” James said, bobbing his head. “Not only is this not the past, but in the present we don’t want food poisoning. There’s a very good reason why my wife doesn’t cook.”

Mandy frowned, affronted. “Hey!”

“Oh, baby, I love you more than anything,” James said, adopting a soothing tone. “We both know you can’t cook, though. If we didn’t have a phone to order takeout and I couldn’t grill, we would starve.”

Grady snorted. “You guys are totally screwed if the zombie apocalypse comes to pass.”

“Yes, but if the sharkpocalypse comes we’re going to be the winners,” Mandy said, poking the end of Grady’s nose for emphasis. “We’re not going to help you either. I’m going to let the sharks eat you so we can get away.”

“That’s so ridiculous I’m not even going to comment on it,” Grady said.

“And the zombie apocalypse isn’t ridiculous?” James challenged.

Grady shrugged. “It’s a lot more probable than the sharkpocalypse,” he said. “I mean … all you have to do to get away from a shark is stay on land.”

“Not if the polar ice caps melt and the world is flooded,” Mandy pointed out.

“I never thought of that,” Grady said, taking Mandy by surprise and grabbing her around the waist. “Let’s test your swimming prowess out right now, shall we?”

“Let me go,” Mandy said, vainly wriggling against Grady as he shuffled her toward the pool. “I don’t want to swim.”

“Oh, no,” Grady said, struggling to hold onto Mandy without spilling his beer. “You’re all mouth. I want to see you swim from the shark.”

“James!”

James lifted an eyebrow but otherwise remained motionless. “What’s up, baby?”

“If you let him throw me in the pool there will be no fun and frolicking for you tonight.”

It was an empty threat. They both knew it. Still, James always wanted to be his wife’s hero. “Let her go, Grady.”

Grady stared him down for a moment. “What if I say no?”

“Then you’re not getting any food,” James shot back. “She’s wearing her favorite shirt. The chlorine will ruin it.”

“You guys are absolutely no fun,” Grady said, reluctantly releasing Mandy and grunting when she elbowed him in the stomach.

Mandy hurried back to James and wrapped her arms around his waist. “My hero.”

James couldn’t help but smile. “That’s a role I’ll gladly take,” he said. “Just for saving you, though, you have to hold off on the onions tonight.”