Chapter Five #3
“Come on. I heated up some Texas chili and made cornbread. I know yer starvin’ because my own stomach feels like my throat’s been cut.
” He held a hand down to me the same way he’d done when he’d effortlessly hauled my ass out of the VW.
I felt myself blush as I accepted the help.
I hated feeling weak but I supposed it was normal, especially since I had pain medication in my system.
And, if I was being honest, I really liked the way Patsy’s warm hand felt in mine.
As soon as I was standing, he let go and pointed to a small table in his kitchenette.
I sat down in one of the padded chairs while he returned to the stove.
The table was stacked with more magazines and books, and I pushed them to the side, clearing a place for us both as I smiled to myself.
One thing could be said about the Irishman.
He was a sorry excuse for a housekeeper.
All thoughts of Patsy’s messiness fled when he walked over to the table carrying a rather large crockery-style bowl and a plate.
He set them down in front of me and I gaped at the massive piece of cornbread he’d put on the side.
The scent of warm baked goods made my stomach rumble again.
The chili looked just as tempting. It was packed with several kinds of beans, cubed steak that looked fork tender, celery, and onions, all floating in a delectable tomato base that smelled smoky and downright heavenly.
I looked up at him as he returned carrying portions for himself, joining me at the table.
“Shall we say grace?” he asked.
“Um, yeah, sure,” I said, feeling foolish as I’d been about to dig in.
“Two, four, six, eight, bog in, don’t wait.”
I must have looked slightly stunned because he grinned, a twinkle in his eye as he picked up his spoon, and said, “Eat up.”
I laughed. “God, Patsy, this smells amazing,” I said, sinking my own spoon into the chili. “Did you make this?”
He looked over at me, chewing the bite he’d shoveled into his mouth, then swallowing before he spoke. “Rex did. He’s the best cook on our team.”
“Rex?”
“Our resident Texan. His real name is Reese Monroe, but he likes to be called Rex. He’s six-six and built like a brick shithouse.
He’s one of our Tac Team’s snipers. Give him a good rifle and he can hit the eye of a squirrel at a thousand meters.
Off-duty, he proves to us that he’s the best bloody cook on the team.
He’s an ‘expert pitmaster,’ whatever the feck that means. ”
I chuckled then went back to enjoying the rich chili in front of me.
I was convinced the title of best cook was an underestimation of Rex’s talent in the kitchen.
The way he’d gotten the tender chunks of beef just right and somehow combined it with the other ingredients, proved the Texan hadn’t been bragging… he’d been right on the money.
“It’s delicious, Patsy,” I said around a bite of warm cornbread slathered with honey butter he’d set out on the table.
It practically melted in my mouth. I hadn’t tasted food this good in months.
“Thank you for the food. You were right. I didn’t realize how starved I really was until sitting down to this amazing meal.
” We both sat back after finishing the food and I couldn’t help but sigh as I watched him scrape his bowl clean.
“Would ya like some more tea?” he asked.
I looked around the table. “We haven’t had any yet,” I said, feeling puzzled and wondering just how strong these painkillers were they’d given me.
Seeing my face, he laughed and amended it. “Din dins. Dinner. Tea is dinner or a cup of tea. Comes from high tea. It’s a wee bit confusin’ if yer not used to the way of it.”
I grinned and shook my head, patting my full stomach as I pondered the question.
Normally, I worried about where my next meal was coming from, feeling blessed when I could find enough food to fill my belly each day.
But tonight, the very thought of a second bowl of chili and more cornbread made me feel a little nauseated.
It was probably from the pain pill that thankfully wasn’t as strong as I’d feared.
I shook my head. “I don’t think I could eat another bite if I tried, Patsy.
” I smiled at him and then reached across the table to take his hand.
He gripped mine, squeezing it gently as he returned my smile.
“I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness today. ”
“You’ve got to stop thankin’ me, Wes. It’s no bother.” He let go of my hand and scooted away from the table, reaching for our bowls. I beat him to the punch, picking up my dishes as I also stood.
“Hand those over and I’ll put them in the sink before showin’ yer where the bathroom is for yer shower.
” He wiggled his fingers. This wasn’t a fight I was going to win, so I reluctantly handed them over and waited while he took them to the sink.
He briefly ran water over them and grabbed a dishtowel before coming back to join me. “Ready for that shower?”
“Definitely but let me get some clean clothes.” I moved over to one of my boxes and squatted to search for a clean pair of jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt.
Patsy patiently waited for me, then led me down the hallway to the bedroom where he showed me to the bathroom, switching on the light.
The room was small but clean with a bathtub which Patsy plugged and began to fill with water.
He walked over, stopped in front of me, and craned his neck to look up at my face.
“I’ve run yer a bath because it’ll be easier to manage than a shower with the bandage. Ya won’t be wantin’ to get it wet.” He waved at my arm and I remembered the ACE bandage the ER nurse had wrapped around the gauze underneath.
“That’s thoughtful. Thank you, Patsy.”
“All part of the service here at the House of Good,” he said with a smirk before opening a cabinet and pulling out a fluffy, white towel.
He handed it to me. “There’s shampoo and conditioner on the lip of the tub and I’ll be right outside the door in case ya need me for anythin’.
” He chewed his lower lip, looking suddenly nervous.
“I’m more than happy to help ya out of yer shirt, Wes. ”
I sighed with relief. “That’s really helpful. I was worried about getting it over my head since it hurts to lift my left arm.”
“No doubt,” he agreed. “Here…let me help.”
I nodded, then shrugged out of my jacket and allowed him to pull the shirt gently over my head, bending at the waist to make it easier on both of us.
I couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze raked over my hairy chest, making my nipples hard from the scrutiny he was covertly giving them as he tried not to be obvious.
I didn’t smile outwardly, but inside, I was giving myself a slap on the back.
I felt myself blushing as he looked at me but realized that perhaps having Patsy Good look at my body with appreciation, was the best thing that had happened to me in days.