Page 36 of Tortured

And that just made my entire day shine a whole lot brighter.

“I told you not to buy all that.”

Ava glared at me, then back to the fridge, then to the remaining bags of groceries. The fridge was now so full it’d be impossible to get everything in there, but she’d insisted on putting everything away.

She wanted to put away the groceries. I’d let her.

I didn’t, however, leave her to her peace and quiet like I’d promised her earlier. Nope, I was standing on the opposite side of the island, eating a banana.

“Can you stop being such a dick?”

“I paid for your groceries. I wasn’t being a dick.”

“I didn’t need you to pay for my groceries.”

“You bought three times the amount even I need for a week, and I eat four thousand calories a day. And I told you I already had enough shit to stock the fridge, and you still kept buying shit.”

Hell. When she said she needed groceries, I figured some salads or yogurts or more fresh fruit. I didn’t think Ava was some gourmet cook for herself.

Thank God I had a wine cellar for the amount of wine she bought. Wine she didn’t need to buy because I told her about the cellar as soon as she headed to that section at the grocery store. She’d glared at me, grabbed three more bottles, and dropped them in the cart.

She slammed the fridge, and this time, when she was glaring at me, I felt nothing but excitement. We’d been like this all day, but instead of firing back with venom and fury like Ava usually did with me, there was a playfulness to her irritation.

“Fine. You put the rest of the crap away then.”

“All right.” She’d be super pissed when she learned I had a garage fridge for the rest of the shit to go. I almost grinned at the idea of seeing how pissy she’d be when she learned about it, too, before I was smart enough to hide it.

I bit off the rest of the banana and tossed the peel into the compost bin.

My teammates gave me shit for it, some friends, too, but I was raised on land where we farmed and ranched to keep as healthy as possible. Every couple of weeks in my off-season, I hauled my compost out to the ranch and dumped it in Mom’s garden. During the season when I couldn’t get out there as often, I dumped it in my own landscaping on the edges of my yard.

“I thought you said you would make yourself scarce while I was here.”

“It’s the weekend, not a lot to do.”

“So your chosen form of entertainment is to annoy the hell out of me?”

I mean, it seemed like a good idea. Sparring with Ava got my blood flowing in ways football didn’t. It energized me. Even when my lap ended up full of beer or I felt the sting of her slap—which only happened once—I was having a blast.

“Actually, I’m thinking I’ll head out to the ranch for the night. Wanna come?”

I was never going to get rid of her scent from my leather seats.

Ava’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. I thought it was excitement.

“We just bought enough food to feed an army for a month and you’re leaving?”

Oh. So not excited. Pissed off. Funny how those looks on her face looked so similar.

I grinned. Took a few steps back in case she launched herself over the island to kill me and grinned. “Like I said, Sunshine. I told you not to buy all of that shit.”

Steam flew from her ears. Hand to God, I almost thought her head was going to pop right off her neck as she blew out a breath. “You’re a fucking dick, Cameron Kelley.”

I was. I definitely was.

I grabbed my keys. I had clothes there. Mom would have plenty of food even if I didn’t give her a heads-up I was coming. Besides, I had a bone to pick with Isaiah and perhaps, a punch to throw. Assuming I survived the drive, that was.

“So, what’s it going to be? You want to come with?”