Chapter 7

Jack

Little bitch didn’t just wolf down her own stack of pancakes—she ate mine as well.

Ah, Christ. Even as I think that, I regret it. Pretty little Avery is plenty of things—sweet and grateful and too fucking stubborn to function—but she ain’t a bitch.

Stuck-up? Maybe a little. Spoiled rotten? Definitely.

She reminds me of the only other Avery I’ve ever known—a cute little blonde kid, not so different from the Avery seated before me except for the difference in age. The child of one of my parents’ friends, must have been.

I remember pushing her on the swing set of a playground in DC just before I got deployed. Bought the little shit ice cream and she ate mine too while I wasn’t looking.

Must be something about the name.

Look at me, being all sentimental and shit all of a sudden. I haven’t thought about that little girl in fucking years. While I was overseas, on the bad nights I used to replay that memory, trying to call up that smug, self-assured look on Little Avery’s face with both of our ice creams smeared all over her sticky fingers and face.

On the worst nights, I’d imagine that she was my own daughter. A daughter I knew I’d never fucking have, since on the worst nights, I didn’t think I’d ever be coming home.

It’s almost like thinking about all of this again just renews how pissed I am about frying up so many goddamn pancakes and seeing each and every one of them disappear between the pretty little lips of this Avery with me now.

Even Buck got a taste—and there he is, sitting by her side, his big shaggy tail thumping against her chair while he looks up at her adoringly, hoping she might let him lick the plate.

And none for Jack. Just fucking swell. See, this is why I don’t like being around people. They feel entitled to your shit. Whether they actually are or not never even gets called into question.

“Mmm,” Avery moans, licking her fork clean in a way that makes my cock throb and my temper flare up even hotter. “Those were…amazing.”

“Hope so,” I grunt, trying to swallow my temper and avoid blushing with pride all at once.

Fuck me. Blushing over a compliment and getting all worked up over pancakes. I’ve been up on this fucking mountain all alone for too long.

But it’s like Avery can recognize that something’s wrong from just the look on my face.

“Wuh…why do you hope so?” she asks with uncertainty.

“Because,” I find myself grunting as I gather up the two plates she’s managed to clear. “You ate mine, too.”

Those were big fucking stacks of pancakes, goddammit. Trucker-sized stacks. And she’s so goddamn tiny, I could practically fit her in the pocket of my flannel—so where the fuck is she even putting it all? Hiding it beneath the big, puffy skirt of that fucking wedding dress?

“Oh,” I hear her say in an ashamed little voice. When I look over my shoulder, she’s staring down at the table and looking upset with herself. “Well…freakin’ crap. Sorry.”

Freakin’ crap. This fucking girl can’t even swear properly.

For some reason, that’s the thing that sends me over the edge.

I slam the dishes into the sink and wheel around on her, slapping my big, manly hands down on the table so hard that the wood shakes and Buck startles, barking at me suddenly like he thinks I’m going to hurt her.

I give him a look that says, down boy. But Buck stands his ground. Traitorous little mutt.

“Fuck,” I sneer at Avery, whose pretty blue eyes are wide fucking open. “You’re a fucking adult, aren’t you, girl? So, use your fucking words like one.”

“And how…how would that be?” she asks hesitantly. Her fucking voice is shaking. She looks scared.

Good. Let her see what a fucking monster I am. Let her be afraid, so she stays the fuck away from me with those pretty lips that I still swear were half a second away from sucking syrup off my fingers a minute ago.

“How about this,” I say. “Why don’t you tell me, ‘Fuck, Jack. I’m ever so fucking sorry for eating up all your limited fucking rations, for fuck’s sake!’”

I straighten, crossing my arms over my chest and fuming.

Go on then, girl. Say it. Let’s hear that pretty mouth swear for once.

“F-fuck, Jack,” she begins with a stutter, to my amazement. But the way she keeps blinking, she looks like she’s about ready to cry. “I’m ever so f-fucking sorry…”

Christ. What business do I have going and getting angry at a girl like her for? After the shit she went through…of course she was hungry.

Immediately, regret sets in once again.

“That you’re such a goddamn fucking prick!” she finishes.

Fuck’s sake.

I should have let her finish.

“I didn’t know that we were rationing,” she snarls at me with a glower.

She looks so damn cute when she’s angry. It just makes me even fucking angrier.

“Didn’t you? Miles away from the nearest town—snowed in for five days at least—of fucking course we’re rationing,” I snarl right back.

“Boof!” Buck barks, looking up at me like I’ve given him the wrong fucking dog food.

“Don’t you go taking her side on this,” I warn the dog.

That makes Avery giggle. And damned if it’s not the cutest fucking giggle I’ve ever heard—but that’s beside the point right now.

I know she didn’t mean to. I know she must not have realized. She doesn’t belong in this place; of course she wouldn’t know.

But dammit, being angry at this sweet little angel feels fucking good right now. At least I can live with the guilt of being angry at her. It only serves to validate my previous fucking theories of myself.

I’m a monster. I’m a bad fucking man, and Avery would be the dumbest bitch I’ve ever met if she sticks around here any longer than she absolutely has to.

Plus, being angry at her is better than the alternative: wanting her.

I want this girl worse than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole fucking life. Just looking at her, I know that she’d be a great fuck.

And it’s more than fucking that I want from her. That’s the worst part. I want to lay this girl down on a bearskin rug that I’ve killed for her myself, smooth my hands down her body and—

Thank fuck, I notice my growing erection before she does. If it gets any fucking harder or longer, I’m going to have to take off my goddamn belt.

And I shudder to think of what a monster like me would do in the same room as an angel like Avery when I’ve got a hard, thick cock and a leather belt in hand.

“Forget it.” I snarl and turn away from the wounded angel at my breakfast table and my traitorous mutt at her side. I start in on the dishes to take my mind off things.

I scrub at them so hard, you’d think I could scrub my sexual frustration away. All I manage to do is leave the plates fucking spotless.

But when I move to put it in the drying rack, wouldn’t you know it—there’s fucking Avery, getting all up in my personal space and taking the plate away from me to dry.

“Go,” I rasp, pointing toward the living room. “Out.”

“Nah,” Avery says, like she can dismiss my own fucking orders just like that. In my own fucking house! “I…I really do feel bad, okay? I’m…I’m kind of stupid sometimes. Plenty of people say so.”

“Somehow, I don’t doubt that.”

“But,” she levels with me, struggling to balance the plate and the towel in her hands at the same time. “I always try my hardest to do my best, and I always try even harder to do what’s right. So…let me help.”

I’m about to relent. Give her my okay and let her dry while I wash. If she doesn’t, I know I’ll let those fucking plates sit in the drying rack until the next time I want to use them.

But before I can, she drops the fucking plate.

Jesus goddamn Christ.

“Shit!” she yelps, and I sigh.

“Whelp.” I pinch the bridge of my nose between my finger and thumb before bending down to gather up the shards. “At least you fucking cursed properly this time.”

“Huh,” Avery says. She sounds proud of herself. “I…I fucking did, didn’t I?”

The plate’s a clean break. Three even pieces and one long, slender shard. I snort, almost chuckling at her newfound ability to swear.

But then she moves to try and help pick up the pieces of the broken plate, and I have to reach out to grab her ankle just in time to stop her from putting her bare little foot right down on that broken shard.

“Nope,” I grunt. “Stay put. You’ll find some fucking way to hurt yourself if you don’t.”

For some reason, I’m in a better mood now. Maybe because, truth be told, she’s fucking sassy, and that amuses the shit outta me. Or maybe because when I wash the next plate, I can feel her against me. Working together, side by side. Her tiny little body next to my big, burly frame.

Boldly, I wrap an arm around her and show her how to position the plate so she can hold it and dry at the same time.

“There,” I say. “Just like that.”

“Oh. Thanks,” she says, suddenly bashful. “I’m…uh. I’ve never done dishes before. I’m sorry about your plate…and the pancakes…and, well, everything.”

“Don’t,” I grunt, removing my touch from her hands. Fucking kills me to do it, too. Once I start touching her, I don’t fucking want to stop. “Shouldn’t have shouted. We just don’t get many visitors up this way, is all.”

“Boof!” Buck woofs, trotting up behind me and licking my calf through my jeans.

Little fucking turncoat. I’m beginning to this my dog likes this goddamn girl more than he likes me.

We wash dishes in silence for a few minutes. There aren’t many to do, and what few there are, we make quick work of.

When one of us isn’t unconscious or at the other’s throat, we don’t make all that bad of a team.

As I’m fishing about in the water for the final fork, Avery reaches down to grab it at the same time I do. Our fingers curl around it simultaneously, and I feel an electric fucking current running through the water as they do.

“Sorry!” Avery yelps, pulling her hand back like my skin burns her.

At the same time, I grunt, “Sorry,” recoiling at her touch like she might turn me to gold beneath her fingertips.

Who fucking knows.

After, when she’s gone back into the living room to pet Buck and watch the fire, I take a look at the place on my hand where her fingers touched. I can still feel where her skin was against mine. It’s like she burned her fingerprints right into me. Marked me as hers forever.

And damned if when I hold my hand up to the window to look at it, it doesn’t seem just a little more golden in the light.