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Hmph. Diablo with kids. I can’t picture it.
“Do you want kids?” I ask suddenly because now I am insanely curious.
“Fuck no.”
The way he says it, so quickly and so damn assuredly makes me laugh loudly.
“Do you?” he asks, his eyes wide.
“Fuck no.”
We smile dopily at each other before we each turn away. We are not bonding. Fuck no to that too.
Slowly, I show him how to properly sort clothes and how much detergent to put in. He’s a man of extremes, always putting in too much or not enough, leaving his clothes horrendously soapy or unclean.
“I will never separate my whites from my darks. This was a waste of time.”
He lies. The worst fucking liar. I saw the way his brows met in concentration as I explained it all. No one has ever sat him down to teach him shit. His father surely didn’t have the time and his mother is long dead. Someone has to do it. Might as well be me.
“You will.”
“I don’t even own anything white.”
“You will.”
“Fuck no. I used to and kept getting stains on them. Embarrassed my brother and my dad. They wouldn’t be seen in public with me. Apparently, large ketchup and mustard stains don’t look respectable.”
“They don’t. But now you know how to wash them, just in case you change your mind. And if you ever get a stain like that on a shirt, let me know. I’ll help you remove it. There are tricks to that.”
Diablo eyes me. “You won’t be around when this is over.”
He’s right. I’ll either be dead or off to my next job.
“We’ll see.”
The machine churns loudly behind us as we make our way out into the hallway and then the kitchen. I know Diablo’s hungry, he’s been moaning about food since we got on the road. Just an endless stream of consciousness about how badly his stomach needs food.
“I’ll make you a snack.”
“I can do it myself.”
My eyes follow him as he scrounges around in the bags I brought in until he pulls out a block of cheese. I’ve seen what he can do to one of those. I’m not impressed.
“If you take a bite out of that…so help me…”
He grins at me, that lopsided smile, and waggles his eyebrows. “So help you what? What are you really going to do to me that you haven’t done already.”
My hand moves to my jaw, and I stroke it. “I can think of a few things.”
He swallows and sets the hunk of cheese down. “Fine. Whatever. You win.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
“Hell no. It’s verbal and nothing else. This is as good as it gets.”
“Let’s shake on it.”
He reluctantly puts his hand out, and I engulf it with mine. I dwarf him in every way and I fucking live for it. Squeezing gently, I let him go, and he lets out a shaky breath. The exhale travels right to my balls.
