Page 11 of Malachi
“Are you angry with me?” I asked, noting the way he was looking at me, like I had committed some offense to him. He rolled his eyes with a great huff.
“Did IsayI was angry with you?” he groused.
“No, but well… look at you,” I commented, lamely gesturing at him.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he spat, crossing his arms over his chest. I couldn’t help but notice the way his shirt threatened to pull apart at the seams. He was incredibly muscular. That much had been made apparent during our consummation ceremony yesterday. He was quite large, burly, and strong.
“You’re all roar, boo, and hiss,” I chuckled.
“I don’t even know what that means,” he said with a roll of his eyes.
“I mean that you seem annoyed, or angry. You’re scowling at me, and I don’t know why,” I responded, mimicking his stance by crossing my arms over my own chest. His eyes moved down my form for only a moment before he shook his head, his grouchy demeanor increasing tenfold.
“Well, maybe if you’d listen, I wouldn’t be so — what did you call it? Oh, roar, boo, hiss.” I let out a giggle, unable to stop myself as his snarky attitude came out in full force. “Did you just giggle?” he asked, and I nodded.
“I can’t help it. You’re kind of cute when you get grouchy,” I responded honestly.
“I am notcute,” he grumbled. “Now, go back to the house.”
“Youarecute, and why do I have to go back to the house? There is nothing for me to do there. What are you working on?” I asked, stepping closer to him, peering around his large form to see whatever it was he was doing.
“It’s none of your business. Go inside,” he repeated with frustration, turning back to his work.
“I don’t want to,” I tossed right back, not really caring about his attitude. I wanted to see what he was working on. As I peered around him, I could see a long stretch of wood held in a vice, a shape beginning to take form along the edge. “You do woodwork?” I asked excitedly.
“No, this is paper Mâché. Go inside,” he griped. I waved him off with a motion of my hand, moving to stand alongside him. “You really don’t listen well, do you?”
“Nope,” I replied with a pop of the ‘p’.
“I’ve noticed. Yes, I do woodwork. No, I don’t want you out here. Now, what do I have to do to get you to listen?”
“I’m not going back into the house unless you go with me. Tell me about what you’re working on,” I chirped.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” he groaned, reaching for a white cloth that he then draped over the piece he was working on. “I don’t have time for this. I have work to do.”
“Great! I’ll help you. What’s the first item on the list?” I asked enthusiastically. I felt excitement rush through me. I wanted to know more about his home, his life here. I knew he had quite a bit of property and it surely took a great amount of work to maintain it.
“You can go inside and make yourself useful while I tend to things outdoors,” he pushed back.
“Let me think about that? Hmm…” I pretended to contemplate. “Nope, this sounds more fun. How much property do you have here? Do you have just the garden and timber or are there animals and real crops? Do you have people who help you run it? Or is it just you? Do you—”
“Do you ever just sit still and be quiet?” he griped in frustration.
“Not really. But seriously, where do we start?” He turned to face me, his eyes searching mine. I crossed my arms over my chest again, an act of defiance.
“I’m not going to take no for an answer,” I urged, arching an eyebrow in challenge. After a long pause, he finally sighed heavily.
“Fine,” he conceded with resignation. “I hope you don’t like that dress.”
“Why?” I questioned, looking down at the frock I had put on this morning in confusion.
“Because it’s about to get dirty.”
CHAPTER4
MALACHI
The last thing I needed was this irritating little twit following me around, giving me not a single moment of peace. I had left her there in the house, finding my way to my personal place of solace in the barn to call Zeke. Of course, the asshole had decided not to answer my call. I needed to talk to my brothers; to tell them what I had overheard yesterday. Instead, I was stuck here, held captive in a sense, by duty, on a fake honeymoon with a child bride.
