Rules of Protection(33)

“Is it going to be a chronic condition?”

“God, I hope so. I’m too young to have those kinds of medical issues.”

“I have a cure.”

“What?” he asked. “Sandwiching a pillow between us?”

“Amputation.”

“Never mind,” Jake said grimly. “Problem solved.”





Chapter Seven

Jake roused me from sleep by pulling the covers off me. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead. This is your wake-up call.”

“Don’t you have a snooze button or something? What time is it?”

“After seven.”

“In the morning?”

Jake laughed. “Get up. My aunt will have breakfast ready anytime now. They’re early risers.”

I yawned sleepily and reached for the covers. “I’ll skip breakfast.”

“No you won’t,” Jake said, snatching the quilt away again. “Look, I know you’re stressed out right now, and your life’s been turned completely upside down. You didn’t ask for any of this, and you don’t deserve it, but neither do I. All I ask is that you make both of our lives easier by cooperating.”

“Fine. I’ll cooperate, but that doesn’t mean you can force me to get up at the butt-crack of dawn.” I rolled over onto my stomach and buried my face into a pillow. “I’m not going to breakfast. Deal with it.”

“Deal with it, huh?” Jake shuffled around the room, but I didn’t look to see what he was doing. Moments later, he yanked me to the end of the bed by my ankle, pulled me into a sitting position, and handed me some clothes. “You can put these on, or I’ll do it for you.” He stepped back and waited, as if he planned to follow through with his threat.

I crossed my arms and sat there, daring him. “You can’t force—” I jumped up as he strode angrily toward me. “Okay, okay. I’ll get dressed. Jeez, are you always such a grouch in the morning?”

While Jake put on his shoes, I stepped into the bathroom and put on the clothes—a white V-neck top and a pair of denim shorts. I brushed my teeth with the bottled water and ran a comb through my hair. When I came out of the bathroom, Jake was leaning against the wall waiting for me.

“It’s my sexy, I-barely-had-any-sleep look,” I said, slipping my feet into a pair of sandals. “What do you think? Hot, right?” Sarcasm oozed from my rough morning voice.

“It’ll do.” Jake said, pulling me out of the cottage door.

The sounds of birds filled my ears. Roosters crowed, turkeys gobbled, ducks quacked, geese honked. Other chattering noises, too, but I wasn’t sure what type of birds made such weird sounds.

“Look,” I said to Jake. “Dog is gone. I wonder where they buried him.”

“I told you he wasn’t dead, just sleeping.”

“Lucky bastard,” I mumbled under my breath. Maybe if I collapsed from exhaustion out here, Jake would step over me and keep going.

He caught me eyeing Dog’s spot on the porch. “Don’t even think about it.”

Begrudgingly, I followed Jake up the stairs and into the main house. The inside was more appealing than I imagined. It had arched doorways, high ceilings, and décor colored in varying shades of brown with white woodwork around the fireplace and mantle. We traipsed farther into the house, stopping once we reached the kitchen. The dark plank floors looked new, complemented by the antique milk glass attractively displayed above the white cabinetry.

From the front door, I smelled bacon frying, but the aroma was much more intense in the kitchen. I instantly changed my mind about skipping breakfast. In fact, I was starving.

“Come on in and have a seat,” Floss said, a smile beaming on her slender face as she cracked an egg into a frying pan. “Breakfast will be ready in two minutes.”

We joined Hank at the kitchen table, where he drank his coffee and gazed out the window. “Morning,” he said, turning to us. “Sleep well?”

“Yep,” Jake said. “Always do when I’m here.”

I shrugged. “Well, I didn’t. Something kept poking me in the back all night long.”

Jake glanced over at me with wide eyes and a flustered look, but then he composed himself. “Must be a broken spring on that side of the bed. I’ll trade sides with you tonight.”

“Yeah, like that’s going to help—ouch!” Jake glared at me as he pinched my leg under the table. “What?” I said, rubbing my thigh.

Oblivious, Floss hummed to herself as she cracked another egg into the frying pan, but Hank smirked over at me. At least one of them knew Jake was a big, fat liar.

…

I didn’t walk away from breakfast unscathed. In fact, I wasn’t sure I could still walk. At home, my normal morning fare consisted of yogurt and granola, maybe some fresh fruit. Today was different. I inhaled three fried eggs, a pile of grits swimming in butter, at least a half pound of bacon, and two fluffy homemade biscuits slathered with mayhaw jelly.

Though I’d never heard of it, mayhaw jelly was a kitchen staple around here. Being a Yankee, I hadn’t expected to like the tart red jelly, but it tasted similar to a crabapple. Then again, all of the food was good. I couldn’t stop eating, and I paid for it. Everything hurt. My chest. My stomach. My jaw hurt from chewing. I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, actually I do. God, I hope I don’t burp egg all day.