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“Sure thing.”
He turned on the water and attempted to hold the chicken under the faucet, giving up after a moment and instead grabbing the spray hose. He pressed the trigger, water firing out of it like a gun, and hosed the chicken down. “Is that it?”
Haven wasn’t paying attention to him, wrist deep in a bowl of stuffing, the gooey bread sticking to her fingers.
“Haven.”
“What?”
He pointed the hose at her when she looked his way, on a whim pressing the trigger at close range. She gasped as a blast of water shot her neck, instinctively flicking her hands as she tried to shield herself. Raw stuffing flew in his direction, a clump of it smacking him in the face.
“You bi—” He cut himself off abruptly as her eyes widened, choosing to shoot her again instead of finishing.
Chaos erupted as she dodged toward him, trying to pry the hose from his hands. They wrestled for it, shoving and grabbing, as water from the spray soaked both of them. Haven managed to wiggle past him and got her hand on the faucet, turning the water off as laughter erupted from her chest. “I can’t believe you. I’m soaked!”
“You started it.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You ignored me.”
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Same difference.”
Wiggling out of his grasp, she grabbed the bowl of stuffing and pushed it toward him. “Can you handle the rest?”
He considered her question. “As long as it doesn’t involve any fucking voodoo shit with chicken hearts.”
She laughed. “Forget about it.”
“No, tell me what to do. Just gimme a job that doesn’t deal with organs.”
“Or water,” she mumbled, looking around. “Can you, uh, chop vegetables?”
“Yeah, I can do that.” He smirked. He could work a knife, at least.
Haven pulled out some carrots, celery, potatoes, and onions, and she gave Carmine instructions, but all he heard was that he needed to cut them up.
They were vegetables—how hard could it be?
Haven shoved her mixture in the chicken, instructing Carmine to throw the vegetables in the pan with it. He chopped the celery and carrots with no problem but the potatoes were trickier because she didn’t tell him to peel them first.
Or did she? He hadn’t been listening.
Carmine got to the onion and eyed it suspiciously. Haven looked at him as he removed the skin, but she stopped him before he could cut into it.
“Do you want me to do that?” she asked. He shook his head and she reached past him, grabbing some vinegar and rubbing it on the cutting board. “Vinegar messes with the chemical process so it doesn’t burn as much.”
He raised his eyebrows curiously. “Jeopardy?”
“Just a trick I picked up along the way. Open flames help, too. I can get you a candle.”
o;Why are you surprised?” he asked, playfully repeating her words from the day before. “You’re his son’s girlfriend.”
She glanced up at Carmine and raised her eyebrows. “Am I?”
“Are you what?”
“Am I your girlfriend?”
He hesitated at her question. “I don’t know, are you?”
