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She attempted to slide off my lap, but my arms clamped, refusing her the room to eat in peace.
Ollie and Dec shared a glance across the table, their concern thick in the air with the delicious smell of food.
I didn’t give a fuck.
Watchful eyes examined everyone around the table as Cat studied how everyone wrapped the pasta ribbons around their forks.
Three attempts later, the tagliatelle sauce splattered the table again, just as it did each time before.
I dragged a napkin over it before her tiny fingers could wipe the stain.
“I think that will leave a mark. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I didn’t want her worrying about it. About anything, ever again. “If it bothers anyone, I’ll get a new fucking table.”
“I’m sure we can all live with a small stain.” Ollie’s smile was genuine when it landed on Cat, and it was still genuine when it moved to me. “If not, how would we all cope with that family bathroom?”
“God, one of us needs to make time to clean that room,” Dec added.
“Knock yourself out, kid. You’re the one with the least to do.” Ollie took a drink of his non-alcoholic wine—non-alcoholic because he didn’t think it was fair to me, having alcohol in the house. He licked it from his top lip and dark stubble.
“What about Woodrow?” Dec argued, and I had to chime in.
“Woodrow shouldn’t cook and clean. He isn’t a fucking maid.”
“Then why is he wearing an apron?”
I looked across the table to see that he wasn’t, and Dec was just goading me.
“Fuck it. I’ll do it myself.” I needed the distraction. And I needed the house clean, just in case any of that black mold impacted Cat’s health.
Once more, she tried to pick up the tagliatelle, not even realizing she was eating from my plate or trying to.
But like I’d already said, I’d share everything with her.
“Like this...” My arms left her body to assist her fork with a spoon. With us angled towards each other, I guided the food to her mouth and accidentally left a single ribbon dangling from her lips.
She laughed, discarding any further attempts at eating as she tried to hide her full mouth.
I pushed her hands away, and she laughed harder. And if I’d looked away from the endearing action, I’d have seen it bring a smile to everyone’s faces. Leaning close to her pursed lips, just as the ribbon grew shorter, I stole the edge and sucked it into my own mouth, not giving a fuck what kind of looks were being shared around the table as our lips met.
My eyes closed, keeping the moment sacred from their interruptions.
It lasted for the most beautiful second.
And then it ended with a mutual smile against each other’s pouted lips.
The evening was the same as the day, spent with her glued to me, only separated for her stitches to be removed, and I loved it.
The night came and went. I’d managed to sleep for two hours, waking early this morning just as my body started getting heavy due to an approaching dream. One, I knew, would end with me sweating and even more exhausted.
“I’m gonna get a coffee,” I whispered into her hair as she lay on my chest.
She didn’t stir when I rolled her over. Her shoulder was healing well and caused her no pain. Rodregez was happy with it, and so was I. She hadn’t even needed the muscle therapy that he’d thought back last week. Though, it was still early days.
Ollie was moving around some books on Jolie’s shelf when I crept from my room quietly and stepped out into the hallway.
My eyes narrowed on him. “Fancying a bit of filth this early in the morning?”
