“You’ll need a bath. You like to bathe, I reckon.”
Oh shit.
I did, indeed, like to bathe. Actually, I was hoping I wasn’t already ripe.
“Noc –”
“You’ve earned breakfast with what you gave me on the hides. It was so good, love, you earned a trip to the river too. Anything else you want, you work for.”
I unwrapped my arms from my belly and planted my hands on my hips, leaning forward slightly myself.
“How much more of a jerk can you be?” I asked.
“Why don’t you see?” he returned.
“Ugh!” I grunted, my arms shooting straight down, my hands in fists, my head going back so I could stare in disgust at the ceiling. Then my chin tipped down sharply and I glared at him. “I hate you!” I yelled.
“You already told me that.”
“Well, I hate you more than I hated you before.”
“I don’t really care.”
“And I hated you a lot before,” I informed him.
“I repeat, I don’t really care.”
“Well, you’ve made that clear,” I snapped.
His head tilted to the side and he grinned.
“Is there something you need to do?” he asked.
“Plot your murder?” I replied.
His grin turned to a smile and it sucked that it was hot.
“Other than that.”
Yes, there was something I needed to do and that something was go to the bathroom. Then bathe (in the river, for God’s sake, yikes!). Then eat.
And I needed him for all those things, I was guessing. I mean, I could do the first and second myself but he had to protect me from vickrants or whatever else was out there while I did it.
I glared at him. He held my glare calmly.
Then I tore my eyes from his and asked myself out loud, “Why did I kiss this jerk? Why? Damn my pride! Damn it to hell!”
“I take it that means you agree to the terms of our continuing relationship,” he remarked and my gaze cut back to him.
“Jerk!”
His eyebrows went up. “Are you saying you don’t?”
“Go to hell!”
He shrugged and then moved to his shirt. “You could, of course, go forth on your own. The vickrants will be hunting you or The Shrew may send toilroys.” He shook his head and I didn’t like the idea of toilroys. Vickrants were bad enough. Furthermore, I didn’t know who The Shrew was but any shrew, I knew, was bad news.
Damn.