Needed to. He’d do it if it meant we’d get to meet Maria. God damnit. He was willing to do it for me. That was fucked up so many ways I couldn’t count them.
I looked back up at him. He wasn’t looking at me. Instead he was frowning at Kenny as the boy used a spoon to try and peel a cucumber.
“What are you doing?” I stood up and moved toward where Kenny was bludgeoning his cucumber.
Heh. I needed to remember that for a joke someday.
“I was going to make tea sandwiches.” The boy looked over at me, his wide eyes dipping to my cleavage before meeting my gaze. A slight blush filled his cheeks and I fought to not shake my head. Hormones. “I’m hungry.”
“And you’re using a spoon because…?” I reached over and took the utensil.
“Couldn’t find a knife.” He licked his lips and stepped away from me as if I was dangerous.
“They’re in the block over there.” I pointed at the counter near a small toaster oven.
“Oh.” The faint red tinge of his cheeks darkened.
Mavis snorted, but was smiling at her paperwork when I looked over my shoulder at her. Owen, on the other hand, was watching me with sad eyes. I knew in that moment in his mind, he’d already resigned himself to sleeping with someone to get us where we needed to go and had said goodbye to whatever we had. That stupid fucking idiot. Like I was going to let him go now.
Wait a minute. Was I contemplating keeping Owen? Owen, the hot assassin? The Owen that-had-driven-me-to-brink-of-insanity-with-pleasure-Owen? He was a human being with a mind of his own. He might—no scratch that—wouldn’t like the idea of being kept by anyone.
This morning had been spectacular, but it didn’t mean I got to keep him.
Maybe it had only been spectacular to me. I was a little rusty, after all.
Nope, I wasn’t going to think like that. This morning had been awesome and he was going to refuse to sleep with the eighty five year old woman with toe fungus.
At least that’s what I would tell him.
Sighing I took the knife from Kenny’s fingers. “What else do you have in the fridge?”
The boy folded his lanky frame in half and started pulling out other odds and ends from the tiny refrigerator. I was well aware of Owen’s eyes on me but I ignored him. No reason to give him more ammo for his brooding session.
I really shouldn’t be upset at this point.
“Here’s the butter.” Kenny slid a small bowl toward me.
“Okay. Where’s the cream cheese?” I looked up from the cucumber.
“Cream cheese?” Kenny wrinkled his nose.
“Americans.” Mavis snorted. “They put cream cheese on everything.”
“The stuff some people put on bagels? That’s disgusting.” Kenny shivered as if I had suggested slapping crunchy peanut butter on the sandwiches.
“Hey, now. This American doesn’t appreciate all of the hate she’s getting. I could have left you to poke at the cucumber with your spoon.” I flourished the stumpy vegetable in his direction.
He held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Please don’t beat me with the cucumber.”
“I thought you were going to make the food.” Owen stepped closer and Kenny backed further into the counter.
“She took my spoon!” He pointed at me.
“I’m hungry and it was going to take him years to do anything with a spoon.” I rolled my eyes.
“Cucumber sandwiches are not real food. They’re for old ladies at tea.” Owen’s eyes took on a more amused look.
“I like them.” Kenny muttered under his breath, but he turned around and rummaged through some bags.
“I’ll take whatever I can get. I’m starving.” I looked at the little tub of butter. “So, if you don’t use cream cheese do you add anything to the butter? Or just slap the butter on the cucumbers?”
“For the love of God.” Mavis pushed back from the table. “Just move. I’ll fix the food.”
The slender woman slipped between me and the counter. She held her hand out for the knife and I quickly placed it in her palm. Stepping back I bumped into Owen, who slid his hands around my waist and spun me so I was facing the hallway.
“Oh. Um, do you need any help, Mavis?” I leaned around Owen and looked at the back of her blonde head.
“No thank you.” Mavis had already finished slicing the cucumber and was cutting the crusts off the bread. “You’re not very good with a knife. I’ll be much quicker without you in the way.”
I blew the hair out of my face and then stuck my tongue out at her. Owen chuckled and his chest vibrated under my fingers. I looked up at him, still unsure if I was pissed at his selfless decision to seduce some faceless rich woman.
“While we wait for food, we should find you some more clothes.” His hand slid along my waist, urging me toward the staircase.
I looked down at my shirt and grimaced at the blood. The jeans were scuffed but otherwise serviceable, but the shirt had to go.
“I have a bag in the living room. You can use one of my shirts.” Mavis offered. “Just don’t take the cashmere.”
“I don’t think your Barbie clothes fit normal-sized humans.” Take that, you knife-wielding, pint-sized assassin!
“That’s what I get for trying to be nice.” Mavis huffed. “Why do you think I told you not to touch my cashmere? I don’t want you stretching it out.”