Page 92 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

The Husband

Catherine POV

“What are you doing?”

Catherine continued dumping clothes into the washer. “Putting a load of clothes into the wash.”

Another load.

“What does it look like, Cross?”

“It looks like something we hire the maid to do, Catty.”

Catherine shot her husband a look. “Except we have an eighteen and fourteen year old who both like to change clothes twice a day—more sometimes for Cece. And you—”

“I don’t change my clothes twice a day!”

“No, but you can’t seem to find the laundry basket, either.”

Cross quickly snapped his lips shut at that. He couldn’t deny it was true. Staying silent was his second-best defense.

“We do have a maid that comes in twice a week to help with all of this, though,” Cross pointed out. “You clean before the woman ever even gets here. What are we paying her for again?”

“She dusts well. I hate dusting. It’s well worth the cost.”

“We pay her to dust.”

“She does it especially well, though.”

Cross nodded. “Probably because it’s literally the only thing she has to do when she comes here.”

“And your point is …?”

Her husband rolled his eyes, but smirked all the same. “Fine, babe. Whatever you say.”

“Cece also dropped off two bags of clothes she wanted washed. Figured I should get them done before I head to Cali next week since you still don’t know how to run this washer, and all.”

“Hey—”

“I joke,” Catherine interjected, smiling.

Cece was trying the whole college thing. Catherine could see the same disinterest she once showed for college reflecting back from Cece. She had to let her daughter figure it out on her own, though. That way, Cece wouldn’t have any regrets about her choices in the end.

Like everything else in life.

Even if it scared Catherine to death.

“I just threw her stuff in with ours,” Catherine said. “Might as well do it all at once when I have five minutes.”

“You know,” Cross murmured, leaning further into the doorway. “Cece spends just as much time living here as she does at her apartment. You still do all her laundry, and take her over enough cooked food when she doesn’t come here to eat to feed a small army. I’m not sure she understands the concept of actually moving out on her own, Catty, because this isn’t it. In case you were curious.”

“She only stays here when Juan is out of town,” Catherine replied. “I think she gets lonely without him, and we are her piss-poor substitute.”

Cross glowered. “I am her father. I am not a piss-poor substitute for anything, or anyone.”

Just the way his tone darkened made Catherine grin.

“It’s a good thing for Juan that you like him,” she said. “Otherwise, I might be concerned about his life.”