Keep It Classy (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 7)

Turner once again looked up as I exited and blinked.

“I think you forgot to put your shirt on,” she teased.

I studied her face for a few long seconds as I nodded and said, “I’ll put it on a little later. After I make you breakfast.”

She blinked. “Uh, okay.”

“Bacon, eggs and pancakes sound okay?” I asked.

She was already shaking her head. “Make what you would normally make for yourself, and then just add one extra egg and an extra piece of bacon.”

I frowned. “You need more to eat than that.”

She smiled sadly and looked down to her blanket-clad thighs.

“I had a gastric sleeve done when I was sixteen. I’m physically incapable of eating more than that at one sitting,” she said, her face dropping slightly. “Which is why I encouraged my mother to have the surgery done.”

I studied Turner and looked at her curvy body, unable to picture what she looked like before.

“Really?” I asked, surprised to say the least. “You don’t look like you were ever overweight.”

Her smile was barely there, but I saw it.

Making my way to the fridge, I did as she suggested and made bacon and eggs, adding one extra piece of bacon and one extra egg to the mix for her. When it was all done, I set it down on the coffee table in front of her, and only then realized that I never asked her what kind of eggs she liked.

“Um, I guess I hope you like fried eggs.” I shrugged.

She snorted and dragged the coffee table over so that it was butted up next to the couch, allotting no room for me to sit beside her unless I sat with my legs tucked up underneath of me like she was doing. Which was a no-go. I couldn’t get my body to bend like that if I’d tried.

Instead of asking her to move it, I positioned myself in the recliner and set my plate of food on the end of the coffee table and moved the recliner into a better position.

It was as I was digging into my third egg that she said, “Why did you look like you swallowed a lemon whole when I asked you about your shirt?”

I used a strip of bacon to mop up some of the egg yolk on my plate. After eating the entire piece, which marked the end of my meal, I leaned back and began to explain.

“My ex-wife used to throw a hissy fit when I didn’t stay dressed in our house,” I explained. “There was always the possibility for company and she wanted to make sure we were both at our most presentable at all times. It was honestly exhausting, and the moment that I moved out of there, my desire to wear clothing in my own home stayed with her.”

Turner nodded.

“That makes sense,” she declared. “Do you and your ex-wife get along?”

A startled burst of laughter flowed out of me, and I took about fifteen long seconds to get myself back under control. When I did, it was to find Turner looking at me with amusement written on her face.

“My brother and his ex-wife don’t get along, either,” she said, staring at me with a small smile on her face. “She cheated on him while he was deployed this last time, and he found out because his best friend had stopped by to check on her. He was Facetiming my brother as he walked up the front steps. His ex-wife was shoving another man out looking startled and guilty. He broke up with her over video chat, told her he’d call the lawyers, and also told her he wanted her out of his house in the next two weeks or he’d be calling his lawyer to deal with that, too.”

I shook my head. “Unfortunately for a lot of military members that are deployed, that happens. I wish it didn’t, but there are a lot of assholes in this world.”

She nodded in understanding.

“I expected my brother to call by now,” she whispered.

I felt my stomach dip at the first mention of what happened only hours before.

“The Red Cross has to vet every piece of information that was given to them. They’re going to call the hospital to confirm the death. They’re going to gather every piece of information that they can find on your brother to make sure that he’s getting all the facts. Likely, they’ll take the information to his command, and allow the command to deliver the news,” I explained.

She looked at her hands which were balled up into fists in her lap.

“I hate that I have to tell him over the phone,” she whispered.

I did, too.

But that was just part of life. People died all the time.

Luckily both of my parents were still alive, but that was only because I would be the only one that would handle their funerals.