Page 11 of Reconciling the Consequences

He’d apologized for being a dick essentially, but it had felt almostunderwhelming, like it wasn’t enough. She didn’t know how to explain it without coming across as a stuck-up bitch, so she let it go for now. She was hungry and sore, she needed to take her pills, and she still desperately wanted a shower.

She couldn’t wait for Kevin or Derrick to return. She had a doctor appointment tomorrow, and she would need to clean up before then.

“Eggs?” Johnny asked.

She nodded absently and took a seat at the kitchen island closest to him. “This place is amazing,” she complimented.

“Thanks,” he said, glancing around as if he’d grown used to the magnificence and forgot to really see it. “It was the first project we did when we got out of the Marines,” he admitted.

Kara’s mouth dropped open in shock, and she looked around again. She’d had a feeling he had designed this, but knowing was something different. “Is this your dream house?” she asked softly.

Johnny shrugged and turned back to the stove. “I don’t know that I’d call it adream house,” he muttered. “But it was something we had talked about a lot while we were deployed. My grandma had left the lot to me. The house that was here wasn’t anything special, a small three bedroom from the ’50s. We tore it down and built this. We wanted the main focus to be on the backyard. There’s five acres.”

Kara could only nod as she stared in wonder at the beautiful home. She was startled out of her reverie when Johnny set a plate down in front of her. She jumped and looked up at him. He had the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips.

She ignored him and looked down at the pile of food on her plate: home fries, sausage, bacon, two eggs over easy, and two pieces of toast already buttered and topped with strawberry jam. “Oh my God.” She groaned. “This looks amazing.”

“Eat up,” he said as he headed back to the stove. She watched him dish up his own plate before she tucked into her meal.

Johnny’s nerves were shot with every damn moan Kara made as she ate her food. He was a glutton for punishment, though. He watched her pouty pink lips wrap around her fork and wished it was his cock.

“Kara.” He sighed, setting his fork down.

She looked right at him, dead in the eye, wrapped her lips around her fork sensually and fuckingmoanedso loudly.

All he could do was close his eyes.

Her giggle was light and airy and sent the blood shooting for his cock.

“Please, just eat,” he begged.

“I am eating. After this, though, I’ll need your help showering, please,” she added in a singsong voice.

Johnny could only squeeze his eyes tighter. This torture was the punishment that he earned, and even then he didn’t deserve her. She was already too forgiving. He deserved to be yelled at, beaten, and destroyed for what he’d done to her.

After that, she ate her food in relative silence and ignored him until she was done. “Thank you for cooking,” she said and got up and headed for the sink.

He just nodded, unable to reply to her. He could barely look at her; every bruise and cut and injury was a reminder that he had failed her. Failed them all.

He didn’t comment when she started rinsing the dishes, though he did watch her. She was still dressed in those hospital scrubs she came home in. Her blond hair was matted in spots down her back. She moved slowly as she limped from the sink toward the stove.

“Leave it. I’ll help you shower.” He sighed, defeated.

She froze, her back to him.

He watched her and waited. Did she really not want his help? A week ago, it would have been no big deal. He would have carried her into the shower and had his way with her. Not now, though. Everything was fucked up, and she didn’t trust him.

“That’s OK.” She shook her head, her back still to him. “I’ll wait for Kevin.”

Johnny felt his hackles rise in response to her flippant and dismissive attitude. She really didn’t want him to help her. He rolled his eyes. “Sure, you could. But since he and Devil are on a run this week and won’t be back until late Thursday, you need to shower. You’re starting to stink.”

She whirled on him. Her blue eyes blazed with ire. “Still smell better than you,” she snapped.

He smirked slowly. “Nah, darlin,” he drawled. “Right now? You’re pretty rank.”

“I hate you.” She said it so matter-of-factly that Johnny’s heart clenched in his chest.

“You can hate me all you want, Princess.” He sighed and stood up. “But you still need a shower.”

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