Page 43 of A Cowboy Sugar Cookie Kiss
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AWKWARD DOESN’T BEGINto explain how I feel right now. The hot water pelts my back. I scrub my face and tilt my head upward to try to erase all my earlier recollections. I can’t even say their names in my head right now. They’ve scarred my mind. I offered Maggie the bathroom first, and while she showered, I sat on the balcony sipping a beer. I didn’t fantasize about her naked in the shower. Or knock on the door to join her. Nothing. I’ve lost my mojo. Thanks to them.
Betty and Fred pop into my head.
Shit.
I turn off the shower and fasten a towel around my waist. I wipe away the condensation from the mirror and brush my teeth. I’m overtired. Ready to hit the hay. Maybe that had something to do with my lack of lust.
Nope, it’s the damn old people. I suppose, at least someone is getting action. Way to go granddad. My cheer is lacking.
I pull on a pair of jeans and brush my hair before leaving the bathroom. I find Maggie in the kitchen. Her wet hair dampens the shoulders of her satin pink striped pyjama top. I wait for my body to twitch for her. The blood to start rushing down south.
Nothing.
They fucking broke me.
She glances up, and just as quickly, glances back down. They broke her too.
“Getting ready for bed?” As I walk closer, I pull my T-shirt over my head and shove my arms through the holes.
“I’m baking.” She aggressively ties a frilly white apron around her waist. Clearly the shower didn’t work for her either.
“We’ve been baking all day.” I purposely stand on the opposite side of the island.
A metal bowl rattles when she slams it on the counter. “Sometimes a girl just needs to angry bake.” She cracks an egg on the side of the bowl. It splits apart and dumps perfectly in the steel bowl. She tosses the shell on the counter and repeats with a second and third egg. “They’re being very irresponsible over there. They don’t even get along and suddenly they decide to sleep together.”
My face crinkles, I feel it.
“I meant actual sleeping. Not, not —” She takes a deep breath. “Not what we walked in on.”
I close my eyes. “Don’t bring it up. They’ve broken me.”
“You? What about me? That’s my sweet little grams your granddad was getting busy with.” She thrusts her hips and makes the motion like she’s slapping someone’s ass.
My fingers tighten around the counter.
“What happens if one of them has a heart attack?” She vigorously whips the eggs with a stainless steel whisk.
“In their sleep?”
“No! While they’re doing the deed!”
I waltz around the counter and crack an egg off the side of the bowl. I demolish it. Yolk, egg white, and the shells shatter into her batter.
“What was that?” She chokes out with a partial smile.
“I thought we were angry baking.”
“I don’t know what you just did. Besides destroy that egg. We can’t save this.” She shoves the bowl away, and runs her hands down her freshly cleansed face. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do here?”
“I agree.”
“You do?”
I bend down and rest my elbows on the counter. I stretch them out and clamp my hands together. “It’s weird.”
Her arms mimic mine. “It’s so weird. Like I know older people do it.”
