now I really don’t care. I don’t want to fight with Clay about it, and honestly at this moment, I really don’t want the damn thing on my finger. Not when I’m feeling all kinds of ways about Clay. In some weird way, it felt like I was cheating, not on Judge, but on Clay.
“You lose your cell in the crash? I can go look for it tomorrow, but I’m thinking you’ll need a new one. Use mine to call your sister until then.” He sits down in the chair beside the bed, and I notice he makes it a point to say only my sister. “Where did you go today?”
“My phone was already ruined. I broke it this afternoon and I went into town today to try and get it fixed. I wanted to get a new one if I could.”
“Did you?” I shake my head no. “How did it break?”
“I dropped it.” He stares at me for a long moment and I stare right back, getting more comfortable with his eyes on me.
“When I shouted at you,” he says and doesn't wait for an answer. “Fucking hell, I’m worse than an asshole.” He drops his head back.
“An asshole that saved me.”
“Yeah, well, you would have been at home if your cell hadn’t broken.”
“It’s fine, things happen.”
“You’re right, but I’m going to fix it. I don’t want you worrying about a damn thing, you got that?” He gives me a hard look.
“Yeah.” Wow, it feels good to have someone say those words to me. Too good and way too tempting. For a second I want to ask if he wants to lie in the bed with me, but my shyness wins.
“Now, let’s get two things straight here, One, you never leave this damn house without a functioning phone. Ever. That can get you killed out here.”
“I know, I wasn't thinking clearly. It won’t happen again.” He relaxes some at my response. “What’s the second?”
“No more hiding shit from me. You had no intention of telling me about that phone, did you?”
“No.”
“Are we good on those two things?” I nod. “Good, now why don’t you tell me how the hell you made those biscuits taste like heaven?”
I smile as I settle back into the covers and he listens to my cooking secrets.
Chapter Eight
Clay
“I can see how you dirty up so many dishes.”
I look out of the corner of my eye at Dotty and pretend to scowl. “This is my first time.”
“Oh, I can tell.” She tries to cover her laughter as I flip the pancake, but she’s doing a terrible job at it.
Around four in the morning her stomach began to rumble, and I insisted on cooking for her. The only problem was I had no clue how and I refused to let her do it. So the compromise was I’d carry her to the kitchen table and she’d supervise my efforts.
“We clearly agreed you’d give me directions, not make fun of me.”
“Am I making fun of you?” She cocks her head to the side, and my shirt slides off her shoulder a little.
The bare skin forces me to look away. “You’re teasing me.”
“Maybe a little.” I flip the pancake in the air, and it comes down on the floor beside me with a splat. “Okay, so that one’s yours.”
Her giggles make me smile as I clean up my mess, and I think for the millionth time how much I like her being here. I also glance at her bare finger and think about how much I like that too. Well, maybe not bare, but free of his ring.
“Look who's up early,” Shane calls as he walks in the house and sees us in the kitchen.
I straighten and suddenly Dotty being in only a T-shirt in my kitchen isn’t enough. Needing to cover her up, I walk over to the sofa and grab a blanket. I go back to where she’s sitting, and her eyes widen as I wrap it around her.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude,” Shane explains as he respectfully turns away.
“It’s fine,” Dotty says, and I scowl. She purses her lips at me, and I feel her poke my side as she keeps talking to Shane. “I was feeling hungry, so cowboy over here is making me flapjacks.”
“Oh god, and you agreed to eat them?” Shane laughs, joining us.
“Well, it was this or starve,” Dotty jokes, and the smile she gives me could melt butter.
“I’m not sure you made the right choice.”
“You can leave,” I say, and Shane