Crash (Evil Dead MC 2)

“Uh-huhn. So you’ve fed the cat. You gonna feed me?”

“Umm.” She glanced past him to the stove. “Well, umm. I hadn’t really thought about it. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, Shannon. It’s six o’clock. I’m hungry.”

Her hands went to her hips. “Well, I had no idea if you’d even be back for dinner. It’s not like you keep me informed. You walk out the door, and I’m just supposed to know when you’ll be home and have dinner magically ready?”

“Magically?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, Shannon, you’re supposed to have dinner ready. Millions of women do it every day.”

“Married women.” She motioned between them. “We’re not married.”

He took a step toward her. “Thank Christ for that!”

“Oh! You’re insufferable.” She stomped her foot.

“Quit acting like a child. You did agree to this set-up, Princess.”

“God! Stop calling me that.”

“Princess. Princess. Princess.”

“Now who’s acting like a child?”

“Babe, make dinner.” He strode past her to the couch and flung himself on it. Picking up a remote, he aimed it at the large flat screen television mounted on the brick wall and flipped through the channels until he found a game.

Shannon pulled the cupboards open and perused the options.

About an hour later, she’d pulled together a meal. Setting the bar with two place settings, she dished them both up. “Your meal’s ready, your highness.”

When he didn’t respond, she glanced over toward the couch. Frowning, she strolled over to him. He was stretched out on the couch on his back, one leg on the cushion, the other leg bent at the knee, his boot on the floor. His hand, still holding the remote, lay on his chest. He was out like a light. “Crash,” she whispered.

He didn’t move.

She wasn’t sure what possessed her, but her hand lifted, and she brushed the hair back from his forehead. He looked so peaceful in sleep. Her gaze took in his features. The strong cheekbones, the slight beard growing along his jaw, the dark brows over his eyes, the crease lines radiating out from his eye. “Crash,” she whispered again and stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers.

He licked his lips and turned his head. Sucking in a deep breath, his eyes opened. “Hmm. Babe. I guess I dosed off.”

“Dinner’s ready.”

He glanced past her toward the bar with the two plates, steam rising from them, and then he swung his leg to the floor and sat up. “Yeah, okay. Let me go wash up.”

Shannon stepped away.

A few minutes later, he joined her at the bar. Sitting down, he looked at what she’d made. “Smells good, babe.” With that he dug in. They ate in silence for a while.

The cat curled around the legs of their barstools, meowing up at them. Shannon dropped it a piece of food. It sniffed at it, and then meowed up at her. Crash glared down at it and shoveled more food in his mouth. Scooping Eddie up, she cuddled him to her lap. Crash watched it out of the corner of his eye. And then it stretched its little front paw out and settled it on Crash’s leg.

Shannon watched as his eyes dropped to the kitten who climbed over from her lap to his. It cuddled against him and started purring.

Crash’s eyes moved to Shannon, and then his hand dropped to the kitten, and his large fingers curled in around its ear, scratching softly. The purring intensified. A small smile formed on Shannon’s mouth.

The game that Crash had been watching on the flat-screen had ended, and the local news had come on. Something in the story caught his attention, and he twisted to look at the report. Shannon’s eyes followed, and there before her on the screen was a picture of herself.

Crash was off the barstool in a flash, grabbing up the remote and turning the volume up.