Page 25 of Damaged Protector
My father laughed loudly. “I’m sure he was. Your mother always said your gift was dancing, but I think your gift is making other people smile. You’re a little ray of sunshine, baby.”
Swallowing down the choking sensation that was threatening to make me cry, I cleared my throat. “Thank you, Dad. That’s the best compliment I could ask for.” The man could be a bit gruff but never with me.
“I mean it, Mal. Look, I need to run. I’m headed over to the construction office for a bit.”
“On a Saturday? You really should take it easy and not work on the weekends,” I told him, worried as always about his health.
“Bah! Taking it easy is for wimps,” he groused. “Besides, I’m not doing much. Just meeting with Nolan about some restructuring, that’s all.”
“Okay, Dad. I hope it all goes well.” An idea struck me. “Why don’t you take Mama out for dinner tonight? Since you’re back, and you two have the house all to yourself now, you deserve some time together.” And maybe it will distract her from worrying about me being gone.
“I might just do that. I’m probably already getting on her nerves, so maybe a nice steak dinner will keep me in her good graces.”
“All right. Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
After hanging up, I threw on my fuzzy pink bathrobe over my sleep shirt and shorts. It felt a little stuffy, despite the air conditioning, and I made a mental note to buy something lighter to wear for bumming around the house.
“Hey,” I said, entering the kitchen to find Hawk frying bacon—just as my nose had suspected. “Damn, I’m not sure how much you think I’m going to eat, but I think I’m offended.”
The big man smirked over his shoulder at me as he removed two slices of fried meat from the pan and added them to the gigantic stack already draining on the white platter.
“Cam, Shiloh, and Bella are on the way over,” he said in explanation of the bacon mound. “Have you ever seen Bella eat? She can put away some groceries for such a tiny little thing.”
“No, I’ve never met her in person, actually. Shiloh has been letting her FaceTime with me so she’d be familiar with me by the time I arrived.”
“Seriously, I think the kid has a hollow leg or something.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Uh, you can put the biscuits in.” He nodded toward a baking pan with large mounds of round dough on it. “The oven is already preheated.”
“Did you make these?” I asked, the surprise coloring my words as I picked up the pan and slid it into the warm oven.
“Nope, they’re the canned kind. I’m not completely helpless in the kitchen, but I suck at baking.” He gestured toward a digital timer beside the stainless steel refrigerator. “Fifteen minutes.”
I pressed the numbers and then leaned with my back against the gray granite countertop. “My job is done. What else?”
He shrugged giant shoulders, making his dark-blue T-shirt strain around his muscles. “I guess you can get the butter and jelly out of the fridge.”
While I attended to those tasks, I asked, “So you’re not a baker, huh?”
“No, but I’m a master of bacon.” He picked up a piece and held it out toward me. Taking it, I bit into the perfectly crispy, salty deliciousness.
“Mmm,” I groaned, “you are indeed the conqueror of cured meats.”
“You know, ever since I was a young boy, that was my goal in life,” he joked, and I let out a snicker.
“Well, you can rest easy because you nailed it. I thought Cam said one of you guys could bake really well.”
“That would be Bode. Also known as The Muffin Man.”
“The Muffin Man?” I asked in a deep voice.
Hawk immediately squealed, “The Muffin Man!” and we both busted out laughing.
“I can see you’re well versed in Shrek.”