“He may as well have.”
“Wait,” she said, holding up a finger, and I could feel panic set in, “he was married? He got conjugal visits?”
I shook my head. “No conjugals. But it seemed there were several incidents involving female corrections officers and even a female former deputy warden.”
“Oh, my heavens. I hadn’t even thought of that.”
“Okay, so Gossett didn’t say Reyes got a guard pregnant or anything. He just said it was possible. But the one did quit because an inmate had knocked her up. And guess when that was.”
“Oh no.”
I nodded. “Five or six years ago.”
“I’m so sorry, hon.”
“No.” I stood and paced the floor, which was only slightly wobbly. “You know what? I have decided I am okay with it. I’m okay with it all. We can bring little Damien home and raise him as our own.”
“Like a wolf found in the wild.”
“This will be great. We can go get him this weekend.”
“Isn’t that called kidnapping?”
“He’ll love it here. Especially once I adopt that elephant.”
“I have a feeling his mother might not appreciate that.”
“Oh, right. He might be scared of elephants.”
“No, I mean the part where you go and get him. She will probably want a say in that.”
“Oh yeah, huh?”
“You know what?”
“You’re a chicken butt?” I sat beside her again, Fabio forming to our asses. Caressing them.
“Let me do a background check on her. It will take me five minutes once I get to the office tomorrow to see if Miz Clay worked for the New Mexico Department of Corrections.”
“That’s a great idea. Or we could do it now.”
She laughed. “I’m cooking dinner. And you are in no shape to go over there by yourself. You’ll fall down the stairs again.”
“Dude, I wasn’t drunk when I did that.”
“My point exactly.”
“So how many days have I been out?”
“Um…” She checked her calendar on the wall. “About thirty minutes.”
“What?” I shot up to look at the calendar with her. “I’ve only been here for thirty minutes?”
“Close to it.”
“But we’ve been talking for ten.”
“Yep.”
“How did I sober up so fast?”
A mischievous grin that showed off one charming dimple spread across her face. “It was probably that kiss.”
“Kiss?” I asked, intrigued. “We made out, you and I?”
“Not you and I. You and Reyes. Oh, Charley, when he put you on the sofa, and I don’t mean he just plopped you down there. He eased you onto it like you were the most fragile thing on the planet.” She walked into the kitchen, tossed a few spices into a stew she was cooking, and stirred, her gaze a million miles away.
That’s when I remembered I hadn’t eaten dinner. My stomach gurgled in reflex to the mouthwatering aroma drifting my way.
“And then he leaned over you,” she continued, the stirring slow and steady as she thought back, “his powerful body flexing as he bent and put his mouth on yours. It was like Sleeping Beauty all over again. Like his kiss healed you.”
“Seriously?”
“And then he touched your face. Pushed a lock of hair off your cheek. Brushed his fingers over your shoulder.”
“Cookie, you’re really turning me on right now.”
“Sorry,” she said, snapping out of it. “He’s just so—so—you know?”
“Yes.” Boy, did I. “Also, I’m hungry.”
“Oh, darn,” she said, turning the stove low to let the stew simmer. “I don’t think there’s going to be enough for you.”
“What?” I pointed to the pot, which was only slightly smaller than my bathtub.
“Sorry. You’ll just have to go to your own place to eat.”
“Ah,” I said, going back to Fabio. At least he understood me. “Not on your life. I’m here to stay, Cook. I’m calling the movers tomorrow. You may as well just adopt me now. This is my new forever home.”
“That’s it,” she said, marching to a closet off her kitchen. “You leave me no choice.”
“What?” I asked, growing nervous.
She pulled out a box. The box.
“Oh, Cook, no.”
“Oh, Charley, yes.”
“Not that,” I said, shaking my head and backing away from her. “Anything but that.”
She stopped short in front of me. “This is happening, so you may as well deal with it.”
“It’s cruel and unusual, and he’ll never agree to it.”
She smirked. “Want to make a wager on that?”
I didn’t. I really didn’t. I had a strong suspicion I’d lose.
18
Things we hated as children:
naps and being spanked.
Things we love as adults:
naps and being spanked.
—MEME
When Cookie marched me over to my apartment, box in hand, I was surprised she wasn’t dragging me by my ear. I felt like a child being led to my punishment. Or utter humiliation. Either way.
We walked in, and Reyes stopped what he was doing, which was basically cooking something—the scent almost dropping me to my knees—and regarded us with one sexy brow arched in question.
“We are settling this once and for all,” Cookie said matter-of-factly.
“Okay.” He said it cautiously, not sure how we were settling it, or possibly even what it was.
She headed to the living room and started rearranging the furniture. I rose slowly to my toes, trying to see what Reyes was cooking. It was definitely rich, definitely spicy, and definitely worth a slap on the wrist to risk a bite. Just like the chef himself.
He tilted his head as he watched Cookie work as I inched closer. Then he cast the same questioning gaze in my direction. I stopped and shrugged, pretending to be as flummoxed as he was. But Cookie took this stuff pretty seriously. We’d have to play along if only to appease her. I just wanted to know if I could eat first.
“Over here,” Cookie ordered, standing back to admire her setup. “Both of you. And you might want to turn off that stove, Mr. Farrow, before you take off your shoes.”