Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Chapter Fifteen
Abe left Dom crashed out on the king-sized bed in the master bedroom and went downstairs to start the chili. His stomach growled loudly as he walked through the plain living room with its white couch and wood coffee table. The kitchen held honey-colored cabinets with a gray countertop.
“There is not one thing in this place to give it any character,” Garrett said as he chopped onions. He looked up. “Dom okay?”
Nodding, Abe washed his hands and worked to unwrap the pounds of ground beef and put them in a stew pot.
“So, Dom tells me you make hand-carved furniture and…how did he put it?” He paused with the knife in the air. “The coolest whimsical wood thingies that go in windows. I have no idea what that could be.”
Abe snorted. “They’re frames. You’d have to see them to get them.”
“He says you’re really talented.”
“Nah, I just like wood.”
When Garrett snorted this time, Abe felt his face heat. He stuck it over the now sizzling meat. “I should have known with you being Dom’s friend that you’d take it that way.”
“I’m a guy. I’m bound to take it that way. But yeah, when I can hear my friend shouting in pleasure from another floor in the house, my mind is going to naturally flow that way. So yes, I can with great confidence say that you like wood.” He scraped onions into the pot. “I’ve met your son. He get his smartass from you or his mother?”
“You hang with Dominic and you call that smartass?”
Garrett walked to sink to wash his hands and the cutting board. He laughed and shook his head. “Got me there. Dom does smartass well.” He looked over his shoulder. “He likes you a lot.”
“You get that from him yelling too?”
Garrett’s grin was a flash of pretty, white teeth in his dark skin. “I get that from how he’s been talking about you for a very long time. Never would tell any of us who it was, but he hasn’t hooked up with anyone in a long time.”
“I doubt he’d appreciate you telling me that.” Nevertheless, that information had his chest warming. He had to bite back a smile.
“Oh, he’ll kick my ass. I just want to make sure you know he’s not just in this for a good time. How about you?”
“Are you asking about my intentions toward your friend?”
Garrett shrugged, his black Ward Security polo tightening on his shoulders. He wasn’t as big as some of the other bodyguards Abe had seen, but he looked to have that whipcord strength in his body—just like Dom. He probably had some kind of martial arts specialty, too. Garrett walked to another window. “He’s a good guy I wouldn’t want to see get hurt.”
“My intentions are honorable, Garrett.”
He stared at Abe a long time before slowly nodding. His cell rang and he answered as he walked out of the kitchen.
Abe stirred the beef and onions, his stomach grumbling again at the smell. Garrett had been busy and had already filled a bowl with the different spices he’d lined up behind it. They’d bought corn chips, cheese, and sour cream, so he set that out as he waited for the beef to turn brown. When they’d picked up their supplies, they’d agreed not to do the typical Cincinnati-style chili, though Dom made sure to loudly work the phrase “three-way” into their conversation all through the store.
Garrett came back into the kitchen. “That was Rowe. They haven’t found James, so he’s sending someone else to watch from the street tonight.”
“He’s taking Dom’s safety seriously. Good.”
“Rowe is crazy about Dom. We all are. He’s a really great guy, and it sounds like he’s had a shitty past. We’d like to make sure he has a great future.”
Abe raised his eyebrows and pulled the pan off the stove to drain the grease. “You don’t have to keep warning me off, Papa Bear.” He put the pot back and added the spices and tomato sauce. “We probably should have picked up pasta for this.”
Garrett shook his head, grimacing. “I grew up with Fritos and cheese.”
“Don’t let folks hear you say that.”
“Trust me, I learned that lesson fast. Chili is serious business around here. But with spaghetti? Yeah, no.” Garrett lifted the lid and sniffed. “I do like this recipe, though.”
“This should really cook a few hours.” Abe pulled out his phone. “We got time. It feels so much later than it actually is.”
“Days like today do that.” Garrett put a lid on the pot. “Why don’t you quiet that loud belly with a quick sandwich, then go up and keep our sleeping friend company? You keep looking at the stairs, so I think you want to be there. We can let this simmer?”
“Good idea.” Abe quickly made himself a ham sandwich and then a second one for Dom. Grabbing two bottles of water, Abe nodded at Garrett and climbed back up the stairs.