Page 45 of Roses Are Dead
Bear was dressed in workout sweats and a performance thermal shirt that clung to his chest and abs. I got slightly distracted by the muscle definition so didn’t answer right away. Realizing my gaffe, I quickly replied, “They were dirty. I cleaned them.” I handed the shoe I was working on to him. The other wasn’t much better, but they’d do.
He looked at them. A sour expression scrunched his face into a grimace. “I hate pink.”
“Why did you buy them then?”
“The salesperson was good.”
“Really? You know there’s dye.”
“Yeah?”
“A good leather dye would make them almost any color you want.”
“Black.”
I smiled. His pants were charcoal, the thermal, black. The bands at his wrists were black, and his piercings varied between silver or black. He definitely wasn’t the pink type.
He snapped his fingers. “That reminds me, we’re riding today.”
“Not tomorrow?” I asked.
He froze as he slipped on a shoe. “What do you mean?”
“Kate said there’s a ride tomorrow.”
“Ah, right. There’s a ride today, too. Then church.”
I waited for him to ask me, rather than demand. But it never came.
“I’ll be back in an hour.” He took off at a light jog, turning right as he hit the T in the path where it intersected with the trail.
Breakfast was ready when he returned. He stopped at the doorway, dumping his shoes outside and inhaled deeply. “Sausage?”
“And eggs, I made biscuits, too.”
He stood there, hovering in the open door.
“You’re letting the cold in.” I’d finally warmed up. The basement didn’t hold heat well, and I shivered most of the night.
“Sorry. I… I’m not used to breakfast.”
I stared at his supplements. “I would understand if you didn’t want to eat my cooking. I can always save your portion for later and maybe make a casserole or something with it.”
A heavy hand dropped onto my shoulder. His body was directly behind me, the heat of it both welcome and not. I tried not to flinch. “Thank you for cooking for me. I appreciate it.”
My sigh of relief slipped out before I could stop it.
He squeezed my shoulder. “Bet Carl didn’t appreciate you enough, did he?”
That didn’t need to be answered. The less I heard that name, the saner I felt. “Please don’t talk about him.”
“Why?”
I had the pan of hot food in my hand and had the overwhelming urge to smash it against something. Like his thick head. But I calmly set it down and turned until I wasn’t so close to the stove. “I do not want a whole month of comparisons. That will get old.”
The blow I’d braced for didn’t come.
Bear slowly nodded, agreeing with me. But then opened his mouth. “On a scale of one to ten, with Carl being the one and your dream man being a ten. Where do I rank?”
