|
As he set down his fork Cam
said, “That was by far the best meal I have had in a long
time. Can I help clean up?”
Kenya didn’t have a large
kitchen so she knew they would be brushing against each
other. She knew he knew it as well. “Sure. Wash or dry?”
“I’ll wash since I don’t know
where your dishes go.”
“Cool.” She hated washing.
Kenya stood up and began to clear the table.
Cam got up to help. “Nice
dogs.”
“Thanks. They are my babies.”
She began the dishwater in the sink and added some lemon
scented soap.
Cam nudged her aside with his
wide shoulders and the comment, “I can do this. You’re
drying.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “Order me
around in my own damn kitchen, why don’t you?”
“I will,” he teased back as
he began to wash dishes.
“Bossy ass man,” Kenya
muttered, jerking a plate from him to rinse, dry, and put
away.
“Got that right,” he quipped
at the same time he put a dollop of suds on the end of her
nose.
Kenya’s eyes narrowed. “I
don’t believe you did that.” She wiped it away before
reaching for the sink’s hose.
“You wouldn’t.” He scooped up
another handful of suds and shook it threateningly at her.
She blinked owlishly a few times before nodding and stating,
“Yes I would.” |
