Page 116 of Thorns and Ashes
“Tomorrow.” I nod. “I missed you.”
Her eyes grow glassy as she looks into mine, and a soft smile forms on her heart-shaped lips. I lean down slowly and press my lips against hers. When she returns the kiss, I deepen it, not willing to let go until she slaps my arm.
“I have to finish these dishes, or else I’ll never be ready in time.” She looks at the clock to find it’s just past eight thirty. “I have like five or six hours to cook these, shower, and get pretty before I needto help Ainsley and Rory, so skedaddle. If you’re not helpin’, you’re hurtin’, and Lord knows you’re definitely distractin’.”
A deep laugh escapes me, rattling my rib cage. “You have been spending way too much time with Ainsley.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Skedaddle!”
“Fine,” I say, laughter still lingering in my voice. “But I’m taking Ellie with me so she can have some breakfast. I’ll make us something and bring it over so you’re not waiting until later to eat.
She smiles so brightly you’d think I offered her jewels and pearls.
“Thank you!” she beams.
“Ha, I’m not doing this for you.” I grin, leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek. “I’m doing this for me and everyone else.”
Her head tilts in confusion.
“None of us need a hangry Tris running around,” I tease, a grin growing on my face.
“Ass,” she laughs, tugging on my beard before I head next door.
After making sure both my girls have been fed and getting myself ready, I head back next door to check on Tris and see how everything is coming along. Opening her door, I’m just in time to catch her pulling out the holiday ham with a wide smile on her face.
“I did it,” she breathes. Stepping back, she looks at it with wide, almost watery eyes. “I can’t believe I actually did it.”
“It looks amazing.” I pull her into a side hug as we marvel at her holiday ham together.
She jumps and pushes me away, reaching for a spoon and scooping up mashed potatoes for me to try.
“Well?” she asks nervously.
The flavors, garlic, pepper, cheeses, and buttery goodness, explode in my mouth. I go to dip my spoon in for some more, but she snatches it from my hands.
“Eh!” she yells with a laugh. “No double dipping.”
My face drops with a grumble. “Fine! Get me another spoon.”
“I’ll take it you like them?” She bites her lip as she waits for my answer expectantly.
“Babe, those are the best mashed potatoes I’ve ever had.”
Her entire face lights up, pride and happiness shining through, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my own. Watching her get excited over mashed potatoes is adorable, but seeing how much she values my opinion makes me feel like the real winner here.
“Ahh,” she exclaims, clapping her hands in front of her face like a prayer. “Okay, so this is all done. I told the girls I’d get there around one-thirty, two, to help out, so I have a little under two hours. That’s manageable.”
I love seeing her like this. Getting a glimpse into the way her brain works. Tris always moved in silence. Every action is perfectly executed, both flawless and effortless, but over this past year, I’ve seen that there are so many parts always moving in her mind, working to get her there. People used to look at her as this scary entity, but these are the parts of her that I get to see, the ones that make her human, make her all mine.
“You got this. Can I do anything to help?” I ask, hoping to keep myself busy and not make us bothverylate.
“Well, since I madebothour dishes,” she says with a smirk and raise of her brow. “You can bring them to the cafe for us.”
“You got it, boss,” I tease. “What’s everyone else bringing?”
“Let’s see.” She looks up to gather the invisible list in her mind. “Billy, sweet potato casserole. Mark, Apple Pie. Tom is helping Callie, who is in charge of the desserts, like all of them, including apple pie, because let’s face it, Mark isn’t going to be baking it.Rory is making green beans and corn. Ainsley is making homemade cornbread, biscuits, and gravy. Chief is in charge of beverages. Blake is making Dulce de Leche Cheesecake. Emma is making a salad and roasted veggies. And finally, Caiden is making the turkey while Della is in charge of the cranberry sauce.”
“Wow,” I say, my stomach already preparing to make room for everything she’s listed, when something dawns on me. “Wait, Della is in charge of the cranberry sauce? Doesn’t that come in a can?”
