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Christmas from Hell

Page 52

   


Chapter 32
 
Thursday, December 16th.
 
“You put away everything I baked?” Necie asked from the doorway with a shy smile, the same one that she seemed to get every time they made love.
 
He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d still give him that same smile in forty years when he woke her up with his mouth and finished her with his cock. The appendage in question apparently was wondering the same thing as it decided to wake up and say hello, hoping that she would walk over and sit on his lap so he could see if he could get her to smile like that twice in one morning.
 
It took him a few minutes to realize that she was standing there, frowning, looking adorably confused as he finished off the last cookie. He followed her gaze as she looked around the kitchen, noting the bare counters and table and realized that she was wondering where all the food she’d baked yesterday had gone.
 
Since she was already well aware of the Bradford curse and had even tried to take advantage of it, he simply shrugged and said, “I got hungry.”
 
“I see,” she said with a putout sigh, but he didn’t miss the pleased look in her eye.
 
She secretly loved the fact that he loved her cooking so much. Baking and cooking weren’t just a job skill for her, but a passion and she clearly enjoyed it when someone enjoyed the fruits of her labor. Even though his mother had lived with Bradfords for more than thirty-plus years, she still got vexed when one of them helped himself to everything in her fridge or to the baked goods that she’d baked for a friend and had accidentally left on the counter, unattended for a minute or two, not realizing that one of them was in the house.
 
Now that he thought about it, he didn’t really understand why she even bothered to get upset anymore. After all this time and with all her boys, she really should be used to food and entire meals disappearing as soon as she turned her back. She’d known what she was getting into when she’d married his father, so really, she should learn to let these types of things go.
 
She’d be a hell of a lot happier if she did, he absently noted as he watched his little baker walk into the kitchen with an exasperated sigh and a smile that she just couldn’t hide. This woman loved cooking for him, and why shouldn’t she? He wasn’t on any diet restrictions and would happily eat anything that she put in front of him.
 
“I see that you cleaned out the fridge, too,” she said, but once again he’d like to point out that she didn’t sound mad or upset, just resigned to the fact that whenever he was around, she’d probably have to make multiple trips to the grocery store every week.

 
Since she had to do that anyway for the bakery, it probably wouldn’t bother her to add a few extra groceries to the mix for him. Then again, all she would have to do was give him a list of what she needed and he would make sure that he got double of everything that she wanted.
 
“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish shrug, “but I got hungry.”
 
She shrugged it off like it was no big deal and to a Bradford that was a huge fucking turn on, his cock, that had started to go down once Duncan’s attention shifted to grocery trips stood back up at attention and agreed. There was definitely nothing sexier than a woman who didn’t flip out because he needed a light snack.
 
He moved to show her exactly how sexy he found all of this when she went ahead and said the one thing that nearly dropped him to his knees.
 
“That’s okay, because when we were at the store yesterday, a nice elderly couple was telling me about this new buffet not far from here that serves breakfast all day so I figured that….Duncan, are you okay?” she asked as her words trailed off, sounding concerned. Again, not that he could blame her since she did have over two hundred pounds of muscle wrapped around her waist.
 
“I’m fine,” he swore, closing his eyes and holding her tight as he thanked God for sending him a woman like her.
 
*-*-*-*
 
“Just act cool,” Duncan said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze of assurance as he shot another discreet glance around the large restaurant while she stood there, trying not to yawn.
 
She was so tired, she thought with a smile when all she should be doing is grumbling and bitching that she wanted to go back to bed, but that would probably lead to exhaustion and eventually a stay at the hospital where she would probably have to explain how she’d managed to get exhausted and dehydrated by going to bed.
 
That definitely was not a conversation that she wanted to go on record, so instead she stood there, taking in the delicious aromas of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon. She loved to cook and had a very high level of expectation when it came to her food, but every now and then she liked to slum it up a bit and eat at places like this.
 
No, she wasn’t a snob, not in the least, but sometimes she liked to sit down and enjoy a simple meal without having to worry about how it was made, who made it and what should have been done to improve it. Basically, she just enjoyed a little bit of fast food now and then as an escape from her own impossibly high standards.
 
“Do you see a banned list?” he asked suddenly, drawing her attention to the fact that he was now wearing sunglasses and staring intently at the brown tiled floor.
 
Frowning, she looked around as she repeated back in a mumble, “A banned list?”
 
“Shhh! You’ll give us away!” he said in a harsh whisper as he reached back and rubbed his neck nervously while risking a glance at the cashier and manager before averting his eyes back to the floor and giving her, her first clue that there just might be something a bit off about Duncan.
 
“Ookay,” she said, stretching out the word and wondering where all this paranoia was coming from suddenly.
 
That is until she saw it…
 
By the time she’d read through the list twice, she decided that she definitely needed to use bathroom and splash some cold water on her face. As she excused herself, she averted her eyes to the piece of slate nailed to the back wall with what looked like heavy duty bolts and quietly made her way to the bathroom.