Page 223 of Lovers' Dance

“How much did this food cost?” Jenny said, lifting the cover off one tray. “It must have cost a lot. You have the hook up, Matt. Did you order this yesterday?”

Matt slumped against me, arms sliding around my stomach as he murmured above my ear, “I have never been so terrified in my life. Bloody hell, poppet, I thought she was going to stab me. What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” I reassured him. It was a downright lie, but I wanted him to feel better. “It was a nice thing to do, Matt.”

Jamal choked, his incredulous face staring at us. “Cuz, your man done fucked up.”

“Shut up, Jamal.”

Jamal turned to his sister. Jenny nodded as she stuck her finger in the tray before pulling it out to taste.

“Mmm, yep, Matt, you fucked up,” she confirmed.

I turned in Matt’s arms. He looked crestfallen. “It’s fine, Matt. Don’t worry about it.”

“Poppet, can you please explain exactly how I fucked up?” he asked.

“Oooh,” Jenny half-squealed. “He sounds cute cussing. Say ‘asshole.’”

“Jenny,” I said sharply before resting my hands on Matt’s chest. “You must have noticed Aunt Cleo is into her cooking. It’s a big thing for her, especially for the holidays, Matt. It’s her moment to shine. Sure it’s a lot of work, but she loves feeding her family—”

“And you smacked her pride down,” Jamal stated. “Buying this food like my ma can’t put on a good Thanksgiving spread herself. She’s been doing it for years. Madi, you know Auntie Gemma will never let her live this down. They try to outdo each other in the kitchen. Man. Don’t you know anything about a black woman’s pride in feeding her family, Matt?”

Shit. Uncle David’s sister would definitely twist the knife in further. I could see her now, making snide comments. I bet Aunt Cleo was picturing it at this moment.

“Will you two get out of here?” I let my annoyance show. They didn’t budge. I sighed and slipped a hand behind Matt’s neck, pulling his head down for a deep kiss. “It was sweet. You’re sweet.”

“She despises me now, doesn’t she?” he muttered in a low voice, so my nosy cousins couldn’t overhear.

“I’ll fix it,” I promised, kissing the tip of his nose before stepping back. I put my hands on my hips and stared at the trays of heavenly smelling food. Damn. The road to hell was paved with good intentions. I had a better understanding of that phrase now. “Okay. Jamal, what time does that soup kitchen open?”

Jamal was inspecting the contents of a few trays, licking his lips every so often. “It should be open now for the holiday. Why?”

I rolled my eyes. Why else? The dufus. “Because you’re going to take this food over there now, and I’m going to convince Auntie Cleo to start cooking. Jenny, you need to grab a mop and clean this dirt off the floor.” I frowned at the tracks. “Were those people raised in a barn? Don’t they know to wipe their feet before walking into someone’s house? Come on, people. Chop chop. Everyone will be here in a few hours.”

“Can’t we at least keep the bird?” Jamal asked with hungry longing. I had yet to look at the pièce de résistance. It felt as if it would be a betrayal to Auntie Cleo if I let my gaze rest upon it. I would weaken, I would probably start stealing little pieces of it like Jamal was planning to do.

“No,” I said firmly. “Go get changed, then load this food into your car and get it out of here. Jenny, for crying out loud. Go get the mop.”

“What shall I do, poppet?” Matt asked. He sounded unlike himself. I took a moment to look at him. My knight appeared out of sorts. Lost. I was not going to let that happen.

“Go watch TV, hon. You never have the time to relax. You can watch the parade or check out the news.” My voice drew to a stop. I closed the distance between us and rested my hand across his cheek. “It was a lovely thought, Matt. I appreciate it, and I frigging love you for it. Smile for me, knight.”

He did as ordered and straightened his shoulders.

I grinned at him. “That’s the Bradley spirit. Oo-rah.”

Matt chuckled and said in a soft voice, “I love you, Madison DuMont.”

“I know,” I murmured. “Would you like me to make you tea? I brought some over from England.”

“Does everyone believe all an English person needs to make things right is a cup of tea?” he teased. I grinned at him. My Matt was back.

“Well, the Empire was built on it,” I retorted. “Do you want the tea or not?”

“Yes, please,” he said. “I could do with a proper cup of tea.”

I laughed, blowing him a kiss before hurrying out the kitchen.

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