Truce (Neighbor from Hell #4)(56)

“Most marriages start with a fresh beginning and I’d like that for us,” he said as if what he was suggesting was even possible.

“That’s because most couples didn’t grow up hating each other,” she pointed out, stirring the ham a little more than was necessary.

“True,” he murmured his agreement as he reached over and plucked a piece of ham out of the pan and popped it into his mouth. “But, most couples spend the rest of their lives hating each other.”

She didn’t bother arguing that point, because he was right. While she knew of several couples that were able to tolerate each other, she knew far too many couples that couldn’t stand the sight of each other. Her parents, unfortunately, fit the latter category. On the surface, her parents appeared to tolerate each other and to even like each other, but that was just a show they put on for the ton and their friends. They barely acknowledged each other in private and, when they spoke, it usually ended in arguments.

“What I’m suggesting,” he said, pausing only long enough to steal another piece of ham, “is that we accept what happened when we were children and move past it. I’d like a fresh start with you, Elizabeth.”

“And do you really think that’s possible?” she asked, her lips twitching as he stole another piece of ham.

“Yes,” he said without pause.

“Oh, and why is that?” she asked, sighing heavily as he stole another piece of ham and forced her to dump the rest of the cut up ham into the pan.

“The orangery,” he simply said as he stole another piece of ham.

“The orangery?” she repeated back in confusion, wondering what exactly that night had to do with starting fresh.

“Mmmhmm,” he said around another stolen piece of ham.

“Why?” she said, frowning down at the pan as he stole another piece of ham. At this rate there wouldn’t be any ham left in the pan by the time she threw in the eggs.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?” he demanded with a pout as he yanked his hand back.

“Stop stealing the ham!” she snapped, gesturing with the wooden spoon she’d just lightly rapped against his knuckles in warning.

“This isn’t making me hate you any less!” he snapped back, doing his best to glare down at her, but the way his gaze kept dropping back down to the ham as he licked his lips hungrily had her smiling and reaching for a small plate.

“Here,” she said, scooping some ham onto the plate. She’d barely moved to hand it over to him when she suddenly found the plate ripped from her hand and Robert devouring the ham.

“Your appetite is frightening,” she said with an exasperated sigh even though it secretly pleased her that he wasn’t furious by the fact that she enjoyed cooking.

His only response was a glare as he continued to eat his ham. When he was finished, he sent a hopeful look at the pan, but one gesture with the spoon had him placing his empty plate back on the counter.

“Now, what exactly does the orangery have to do with this truce of yours?” she asked, hoping to distract him from the ham so that there would be some left for her dinner.

She was starving, more like ravenous at this point. She honestly couldn’t remember ever being this hungry before. Even the few times she’d been too sick to leave her bed and had been forced to survive on broth and tea for a month hadn’t left her this hungry. She could probably eat all the ham, she thought with a groan when she was forced to slap Robert’s hand away again.

“Vicious minx!”

“Stop stealing the ham!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d feed me!” he snapped back as he rubbed the back of his hand.

“I’m not going to feed you until you explain this truce of yours,” she said, hoping that it would be enough to slow down his thieving ways until she could finish cooking the food.

“Fine!” he said as he deftly snatched another piece of ham out of the pan and popped it into his mouth before she could slap it out of his hand with the spoon.

“Get on with it, Robert,” she said, pouring the egg batter into the pan, hoping that it would be enough to deter him from stealing any more ham for a while.

It didn’t.

He leaned back against the wall, getting more comfortable as he popped the egg-covered piece of ham into his mouth. “You didn’t hate me that night in the orangery.”

“I didn’t know who you were,” she pointed out, stirring the ham and eggs while she kept an eye out for his devious hand.

“Ow!” he hissed, but this time he was smart enough to pull his hand back and continue making his argument for a truce. “Exactly my point. You didn’t know that I was the little boy who used to make your life a living hell and you liked the man that I’d become,” he said, his tone daring her to lie when they both knew that she’d more than liked him that night.

“That’s true,” she admitted, because really, there was no point in lying at this point. It certainly wouldn’t help matters.

“The only reason we’ve been at each other’s throats over the past couple of months is because of our previous history,” he explained and she was very tempted to add that she’d also done it because it was fun.

“You might have a point, Robert,” she said instead, adding cheese to the eggs and ham and mixing it for a minute before she removed the pan from the heat and set it aside. Shooting a warning glare at Robert, she walked over to the ovens and removed the now golden brown biscuits and placed them on the counter to cool.