Chapter 4 Texas
FOUR
TEXAS
I stood there in my kitchen looking at the steaks I had set out.
I had them salted and peppered, just like they needed to be.
There was no need for fancy marinades or extra spices when it came to such great cuts of meat.
But I also had chicken in the fridge as well.
I saw this great recipe on the cooking channel as I was flipping through the black-and-white images on the box set in the living room.
Now, I didn’t know which one to do.
I walked over to my pantry and swung it open. I had everything I needed for the chicken recipe. The basil. The honey. Apples to chop up and cheese to grate. I had plenty of vegetables to grill up and potatoes to roast. I had the ability to do either one, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted for dinner.
And just like that, my eyes looked up through my kitchen window and peered over to Ella’s house.
I wondered what she and Keva were having for dinner.
After all, she’d gotten home forty-three minutes ago.
I couldn't imagine working all damn day like she did, bending my ass over a cash register, only to come home and cook for a small child. I didn’t know how she did it.
Hell, I didn’t know how any single mother did it.
Part of me admired Ella for taking on that task.
But part of me wondered if she was even awake enough to cook.
My mind fled back to our encounter that morning.
Her curves in that damn polyester uniform.
Her hair tumbling down to her shoulders pulled back in a half-ponytail that would be perfect for gripping and taking her from behind.
And those tits. Holy fuck, I’d bury my face in them.
Kiss them. Mark them. Suck on them and lap at them with my tongue until—
“Get a grip, Texas,” I murmured to myself.
My eyes fell to the steaks. Three of them, just sitting there.
One for me, one for Ella, and one for Keva.
Did Ella know how to cook steaks? Would she have the energy to cook them after a day like this?
I looked back up through the window and saw Ella sitting at her kitchen table.
Her head in her hand. Her back hunched. Her shoulders heaving with a heavy sigh.
Or possibly tears?
Unacceptable either way.
I wanted to stop myself from going over there.
Especially since I couldn't stop thinking about her. Naked. Fucking hell, I bet she looked phenomenal, stretch marks and all from having Keva. But the more I peered into the window and saw Ella sitting there, the more I worried that she really wasn’t going to eat.
What would Keva eat if she didn’t eat?
I picked up the steaks and put them back in my fridge.
I’d come back for them later, if I needed to.
My mind swirled with hedonistic thoughts as I made my way across the lawn.
I saw myself pressing Ella into the wall.
Fucking her until she couldn't breathe. I saw her lips wrapped around my cock that was drenched in her juices.
Moaning and licking herself off me in all the ways I knew she—
“Stop it, Texas. Come on,” I groaned to myself.
My mind had gotten me into trouble before.
It had ruined a great deal of good things for me before.
But this would be a whole new level of stupid.
Gunning for Stone’s sister would put me in my grave, guaranteed.
I was supposed to keep tabs on her. I was supposed to check on her.
I was supposed to make sure she was okay.
Once I figured out what she and Keva were eating for dinner, I’d go home.
Hopefully.
I knocked on her front door but didn’t have to wait for long. The second she swung the door open, shock trickled over her features. She looked me up and down, a sentiment I gladly returned. She was still in her uniform, but her face was red from exertion.
She was obviously tired.
“Texas? What are you doing here?” she asked.
Even her voice sounded exasperated.
“I wanted to come over and make sure you were okay after this morning,” I said.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fi—”
The beeping of the oven interrupted us, and she quickly left the door. It swung open effortlessly, and I took the liberty of standing in the doorway. I watched her put on oven mitts before she opened up the oven, and that was when Keva came rushing into the kitchen.
“Pizza’s ready! Pizza’s ready!” she exclaimed.
Ella grunted as she bent over. I watched as she pulled the pathetic pizza out.
It had been in the oven way too long. A basic cheese pizza with crust that was burnt on the bottom.
I furrowed my brow as Ella cursed to herself.
Keva kept giggling over her excitement, but I was too focused on how crooked Ella’s body seemed to be as she hunched over the stove.
She slammed it shut with her leg but not without another grunt of pain.
Was she really going to give Keva burnt pizza for dinner?
“Sorry, Texas. I just, um… I think I might have…”
I took a step into the kitchen, watching as Ella turned around.
It was like she was trying to block the pizza from my view.
Like she was trying to cover up some sort of sin she had just committed.
There were tears in her eyes. The crookedness of her stance denoted a need for rest. My heart went out to her, and I wanted to help somehow.
Even if it risked being around her more.
“I just can’t manage anything else tonight. Not even conversation. I’m sorry, it’s just that…”
“I know. It’s okay,” I said.
I knew what she meant. She didn’t want to say it in front of her daughter, but I got it. Running into Jett sucked the life out of her.
Time to fix shit, like I always did.
“Sit,” I said.
“What?” Ella asked.
“Come sit, Mommy!” Keva exclaimed.
“Keva, sweetie. Why don’t you go watch a little more television?” Ella asked.
“But the pizza?” Keva asked.
“How would you like a nice, three-course meal tonight?” I asked.
“Huh?” Keva asked.
“What?” Ella asked breathlessly.
“Do as your mother asks, sweetheart. Go find a movie until we can sort dinner out. The pizza’s burnt, but if you give me a few minutes, I’ll have something else whipped up,” I said.
Ella looked at me as if I’d grown a third head, and Keva slinked off to the living room. I knew she was disappointed, but after I was done in this kitchen, she wouldn't be. I walked over to the stove and filled her tea kettle with water, and then I turned on the burner and set it down.
“What in the world are you doing, Texas?” Ella asked.
I grinned over my shoulder at her before I moved to the fridge.
“I’m cooking the three of us dinner. You can’t feed a growing kid burnt pizza for dinner. And you need to eat something,” I said.
“Texas, you don’t have—”
“I’m cooking whether you like it or not. Got it?” I asked.
I looked back at her and watched her nod silently.
“Good. Now, go get out of your clothes and curl up with Keva. I’ll be done in here in thirty minutes,” I said.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I pulled out some chicken from the back of the fridge along with some other ingredients. Parmesan. Olive oil. Some noodles in the pantry.
“I’m very sure. I’m going to make chicken pesto pasta with a nice salad, and I’ll whip up this box of brownies you’ve got in here. Sound good?” I asked.
Ella sighed. “That sounds fantastic.”
“Good. Go get changed and get in there with Keva. Have some time with your daughter.”
“Is cooking in the description Stone gave you?”
I chuckled as I set out all of my ingredients.
“If he knew I was over here cooking for you two, he’d probably come roaring over to kick my you-know-what,” I said.
I peered into the living room at Keva, watching her curl up underneath the blanket while a cartoon roared on the screen in front of her.
Ella giggled, and it turned my gaze to her.
The smile she had lit up her face. No matter how tired she was, she looked completely refreshed when she smiled.
Her eyes twinkled. Her face came alive. Her entire body seemed to change, just for a second.
She was beautiful when she smiled.
“No, go. Do as I’m asking. Go get out of those work clothes and leave this to me,” I said.
“Fine, fine. If you're going to twist my arm about it,” she said, giggling.
I hoped to hear that sound more and more.
I listened as she backtracked down her hallway and I got to work.
I sliced up the chicken really thin and seasoned it well.
I boiled the noodles and made my pesto sauce with a little more oomph than usual.
I thought a bit of spice would help clear out all of that negative shit running around in Ella’s mind.
It took me no time to throw it all together.
Including the salad. And after tossing the pasta together with the sauce, I set it all off to the side and started whipping up the box of brownies while the oven preheated again.
I looked in the fridge and saw Ella had a container of caramel sauce, so I drizzled some over the brownies before plopping them into the oven.
Ella went and crashed onto the couch with Keva, and the two of them started talking.
Laughing. Giggling together. The sound made me smile, and it filled my chest with a bright light.
I wanted to see Ella happy. Hell, I wanted them both to be happy.
It made me sick that Jett was still torturing her.
Still looming over her like he was. I remembered the day we kicked him out of the club.
It had been one of the best days of my existence.
Getting rid of a toxic, bullshit man like him was always a good time.
Especially when the threat of death hung over his head.
When it came to light what he had really been doing to Ella, I’d never seen Stone more ready for blood to drip across his palms. Despite my want to kill him too, I actually had to stop Stone from wringing Jett’s neck right then and there.
The sound of their laughter convinced me they’d be okay.
If we could somehow get Jett out of their lives for good.