Page 22 of Made For You
“Yes.” I nod at her. “I’ve been hooked on that series for the last two years.” She looks at the front of the book. “It’s great if you like mysteries.”
“I’ll have to look him up.” She puts the book down. “Can I do anything to help?”
“Not really. I’m going to throw the steaks on the grill.” I turn, walking back to the fridge and taking out the steaks I marinated this afternoon. “How do you like your steak?”
“Medium is good.” She gets up.
“Where would you like to eat?” I ask her as I step out onto the back deck, going to the grill. I pick up the cover, making sure it’s hot enough before placing the steaks in the middle of the rack.
“Outside.” She follows me outside. “If that’s okay. I spent the day in bed.”
I look over at her. “I thought you were working?” I question, confused now. Did I look outside a hundred times today? Maybe. Was it to make sure it was still sunny? Yes. Was I hoping to catch a glimpse of her? Yes. But only to make sure she was okay. She did leave my boat after having a drink. If something happened to her, I would be the prime suspect. Maybe I need to change up my reading preferences.
“I was working.” She pulls the chair out at the table. “In bed.”
I tilt my head to the side as I put the tray of veggies on the rack beside the steak. “I don’t even know how to respond to that one,” I admit, and she laughs.
“Wow, now that I think about what I said, I just realized it could mean so many things.” She laughs as she takes a sip of her water while her stomach lets out a huge rumble. I can’t help but laugh at her when she opens her mouth in shock and puts her hand to her stomach. “I guess I’m hungrier than I thought.” She gets up. “Can I set the table while you cook?”
“Um, sure,” I reply, and she looks at me.
“Just point me in the direction, and I’ll only open certain cabinets,” she tells me, laughing.
“You can open any cabinet you want, but to speed things along, they’re in the bottom cabinet under the sink for the dishes,” I direct her, laughing. “And the top drawer to the right for the utensils.”
I watch her walk back into the boat, her shirt covering most of her ass. But my eyes stay glued to it anyway, that and her legs. She stops by Beatrice’s bed, bending over, and I swear to Christ, my cock gets up and is ready to play. “Jesus,” I mumble, looking down at the outline of my cock, pulling my shirt lower to make sure it’s covered. “Can you take a chill pill, dude? She’s like out of your league, and also, we don’t like her like that.” I look back and find her in the kitchen opening the drawers. She grabs two plates and then puts the utensils on top. She looks over at Beatrice as she talks to her. But because of the sound of the steaks, I can’t hear what she’s saying.
“I think Beatrice is hungry,” Vivienne says as she walks out of the boat.
“Beatrice had her dinner and dessert,” I inform her and look at Beatrice. “Did I not feed you?” I ask her. She ignores looking at me and instead lies down in the middle of the deck. “That is the sign of a guilty dog.” I point at the dog before turning the steaks.
“Do you have a tablecloth?” she asks. “I don’t want to get the table dirty.” She’s concerned about the small wooden table I have downstairs.
“We are going to eat on the top deck,” I say, pointing upstairs. “There is a bigger table there.” She nods at me, grabbing the plates and walking to the steps.
“I think I’m in love,” she declares, looking back down at me. “Look at how pretty it is up here.”
I laugh at her. “You have the same thing on your boat,” I point out to her, and she looks down.
“Not as big as this. I want this.” She puts the plates down on the table. “Like, I love this U-shaped sitting area. I just have a long bench.” She talks to herself as I walk to grab an empty plate to put the steaks on.
After placing the steaks on the plate, I walk up the steps and see her standing looking out. I put the plate on the table, and she looks over. “I’ll be back with the veggies.” I turn around, and she’s right at my back.
“I forgot the salad,” she notes as she follows me down. “Do you want anything to drink?” she asks me over her shoulder. “I’ll just grab two waters,” she says, and I don’t answer her. Instead, I walk upstairs and put the veggies next to the steak.
She comes up with the salad bowl in one hand and bottles of water in the other. “There is a fridge up here.” I point at the side where there is a sink and a fridge.
“Of course there is,” she huffs. “Tomorrow, I’m going to order a fridge for my upstairs and see if I can add things to it.” I shake my head.
“Sit,” I tell her as she slides onto the bench, and I walk over to slide onto the bench in front of her. “Grab the steak you want.”
“Which one is bigger?” She grabs the plate of the steaks. “I mean, I know I’m hungry, but let’s be honest, I’m not going to eat the bigger steak.” She looks down and grabs the smaller steak, handing me the plate.
“Thank you,” I say, putting the steak on my plate.
“This smells delicious,” she praises, grabbing the veggies. “I mean, I did have coffee and a protein bar.” She laughs as she cuts her steak.
“Do you not eat when you are working?” I ask her as she hands me the tray of veggies.