Fool's Gold: A Kisses and Crimes Novel

Fool's Gold: A Kisses and Crimes Novel by Natalie E. Wrye Page B

Book: Fool's Gold: A Kisses and Crimes Novel by Natalie E. Wrye Read Free Book Online
Authors: Natalie E. Wrye
Ads: Link
can’t deny the effect that Bishop—my husband and practical stranger —has on me.
    There’s a roughness to him, an inherent lack of gentleness that he possesses with the way he walks (more like stalks ) and speaks.
    He’s more gruff than grace, more lion than lamb, but when he puts his hands on me—like he did last night—there’s an undeniable finesse to his touch.
    The way he caught me in his arms that first morning. The way he held me against the wall. It was practiced.
    Sturdy but not tough. Forceful but not brutal.
    He touches me like he knows —like he understands that I will bend, but not break.
    I like it…
    I like that he handles me not as if I were glass… but gold .
    I grab the rest of the cooking utensils, taking a look at my now raggedy outfit, my sweaty ends and shabby shoes.
    I’m gold, all right… Fucking Fool’s Gold.
    I sigh, digging into the fridge as Bishop takes a seat on the sofa, wondering if he will stop me.
    When he doesn’t, I take the chicken off of the bottom shelf, placing it on the counter. Next to come out are the peppers, the onions, and some spicy mustard sauce.
    Thirty minutes of silence, two burns and one small cut later, I serve the most interesting-looking portions of stir-fry onto our plates.
    I exit the kitchen, clearing my throat over Bishop’s shoulder as I hand him the steaming plate.
    Food in hand, he rises from his seat, following me to the dining room table where we both sit, readying our utensils, shaking out our napkins.
    He reaches for my hand.
    I cock an eyebrow that nearly reaches my hairline.
    “Would you like to start or should I?”
    My eyes widen. “A prayer?”
    “They don’t call me Bishop for nothing.” Smug, he hands me his first smile of the night, and I accept it, gladly, with one of my own.
    “Of course.”
    Thirty seconds of clumsy “grace” later, I pick up my fork but hesitate before digging in. I watch Bishop’s face, anxious to see his reaction, and my face drops when he gives me none.
    I don’t know what to think.
    I twirl my fork while he shovels food with his.
    “How is it?” I ask.
    “It’s…” he hesitates. “ Really good.”
    “ Really?” I am almost astonished.
    “Yeah… the peppers, the chicken… The chicken is super tender. Mmm,” he moans.
    I practically beam at this point.
    I steady my fork, taking a giant sweep of the stir-fry before swooping it into my mouth. The second I put it there, I know I’ve made a mistake.
    It’s fucking awful .
    And if I hadn’t made it, I’d probably spit it out.
    The chicken is under-seasoned… and tough. The olive oil burnt beneath the peppers giving them the texture of sandpaper and a taste just as gritty.
    I swallow a mouthful that feels like bile, and I am on the verge of hurling it up.
    Bishop takes one look at my face… and smiles.
    The bastard. He knew.
    I throw my napkin at him and miss. I consider throwing my knife and decide against it.
    “You jackass. You knew,” I mumble at him.
    “This was your punishment,” he comments, standing. “Maybe next time, you’ll learn to listen to me.”
    “About cooking?”
    “About everything.”
    I bite down on my bottom lip at his suggestion, watching him watch me. I try to shrug casually.
    “Going to bed hungry…” I say. “It could be worse, I guess.”
    At that, he takes my plate, dumping the entire thing in the sink before grabbing a brown paper bag from the fridge.
    “Before you do… here,” he says, handing it to me as I gape. “I made roast beef sandwiches earlier. Don’t worry …” he says as I start to interrupt. “They’re your favorite. You’ll just have to trust me.”
    I take the bag slowly, feeling grateful. “Thanks.”
    “And when you’re ready to stop risking your life every fucking chance you get, just let me know,” he stares heatedly. “You know where to find me…”
     

A FRIENDLY REMINDER
 
    DANI
     
    The next morning I wake up to the strangest smell.
    The smell of actual

Similar Books

From the Start

Melissa Tagg

Comfort and Joy

Jim Grimsley

Satin and Steel

Jayna Vixen

Conquistador

S. M. Stirling

The Golden Ghost

Marion Dane Bauer

Decoherence

Liana Brooks