46. Mac
46
Mac
Some time later...
I hear raised voices in the kitchen, so I pick up the pace and hustle down the stairs. I find Dimitri with his back to me, waving a receipt at Eleanor, who is calmly peeling potatoes over the sink built into the marble island. Her eyes meet mine and she smiles warmly.
Dimitri looks over his shoulder and, seeing it’s me, turns and waves the receipt at me. His face is red, like he’s been working himself up for a little while now. “James, control your woman.”
“I’m trying, but she keeps getting out of the handcuffs.”
Dimitri plows over me as I catch the blush settling across Eleanor’s cheeks. “She spent $45 on a bottle of olive oil! A small bottle of olive oil.”
“Oh, let it go, you control freak. I didn’t hear you complaining last week when you went for seconds of that olive oil cake,” she replies primly.
He glares at her and storms out of the room. Then, from the hallway we hear him call, “You had better make another cake!”
She chuckles to herself and resumes peeling the potato in her hand.
My heart bangs around in my chest, seeing my woman so at home, so in her element, and so easily handling the anger of a lethal killer who literally made a man piss himself in fear yesterday.
“Eleanor, will you marry me?”
She looks up and smiles and teases, “Took you long enough.”