Battling Troy: Devil's Knights Series (5 page)

Running a brush through my hair I looked over my appearance. It was definitely lacking. If I could take back Troy seeing me like this, I would be happy. My once silky blonde hair was plastered to one side of my head and the other looked like Bandit had been licking it all night. I touched it, just to make sure it wasn’t wet.

My face was makeup-free, which was how I typically looked unless I was doing something special other than going to work or lounging around the house. My eyes looked tired and I had a crease from my pillow lined my face. I looked like a wreck to put it mildly.

After fixing a nights worth of sleeping like the dead next to Bandit, I looked in the mirror and was much happier with what I saw. I grabbed a hair tie out of the pile I had on my nightstand and headed down the stairs as I twisted my hair up into a messy bun and followed my nose to the coffee.

Reaching up in the cabinet for my favorite cup, I heard Troy and Bandit ambling down the hallway to the kitchen.

I loved where I lived. It was almost what I had always dreamed up growing. Although growing up, my biggest wish was to not live an apartment anymore. When mom and I had lived with Gravel, we had also lived in an apartment, but it felt like home. After we had left, nothing felt like home.

Now my place in Rockton finally felt like home. It had a porch that spanned the front of the house that I loved to sit on and just watch the world go by. As you walked in the front door, you walked right into the living room and the stairs to the upstairs were to the left. If you walked into the living room and down the hall, the half bath was on the right and all the way down the hall was the kitchen. It was painted slate gray on three of the walls and a bright sunshine yellow on the fourth wall. I loved it. It was where I spent most of my time when I was at home even though I couldn’t cook to save my life.

Holding the delicious cup of coffee up to my mouth I blew on it and watched Troy walk in the kitchen with Bandit, once again, right on his heels. Troy was wearing a dark navy blue tee and washed out jeans that were ripped at both knees. His tee was stretched taut across his shoulders and it took all my willpower not to openly stare at him as he took his cup off the counter and refilled it.

“Thanks for making the coffee,” I said, trying to distract myself from analyzing what color brown his eyes were as he looked at me.

“No problem. I was going to make breakfast, but I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”

“Oh, there’s really not a lot to choose from. I’m not much of a cook, so breakfast is normally either cereal or a toaster pastry.”

“I saw you had bacon and eggs. OK if I cook that up?” Troy asked, making his way to where I kept the pans I barely used and grabbed out my big fry pan.

“Um, if you want. Ethel went grocery shopping for me when I first got here. I forgot to tell her I wasn’t much of a cook. She bought a bunch of stuff I can’t make,” I said, trying to explain my full freezer and why I ate cereal for breakfast.

“Cool, I wish my freezer was as stocked as yours is. I’m lucky if I have milk that isn’t expired in my fridge.” Troy grabbed the eggs from the fridge and cracked six into a bowl.

“I’ll grab the bacon,” I mumbled, trying to make myself useful.

“Can you stick it in the microwave for a couple of minutes to thaw it out?”

“Sure.” I shoved it in the microwave and turned it on defrost. “So, how come if you can cook you don’t have any food in your house?”

“Because I don’t know how to cook for one person. The meals I always make end up enough to feed an army. Whenever I cook, it’s normally something I make for work and then I can share it with Meg and Cyn.” Troy explained as he dumped the eggs into the frying pan and turned the burner on.

“Don’t you have to have the pan hot before you add the eggs?” I wasn’t Martha Stewart, but I did know the basics of cooking, at least I thought I did.

“Naw, you got to cook scrambled eggs low and slow. Meg taught me that. She can cook a leather shoe and it would taste good. That chick has got the magic touch when it comes to baking or cooking.”

“She cooked all the food for your party, right?” I asked, remembering the pulled pork that had melted in my mouth. It was divine. I had thought that Ethel had cooked it.

“Oh yeah. That was definitely Meg’s pork. I told her the only way I would let her throw me a party is if she made the pork, tacos, and red velvet cake.”

“Well, then you are definitely right, she really does have a way with food.” I smiled.

“You want to set the table while I fry up the bacon?”

“Sure.” I grabbed the plates and silverware and headed to the dining room and flipped on the light.

I had to dig through the last few boxes left in the dining room I had in the corner to find my placemats and make quick work of getting the table set. As I was setting the last fork in place, I smelt the bacon cooking and knew it was only a matter of time before it was time to eat.

“You want to make another pot of coffee? Breakfast should be ready in five minutes,” Troy said as I walked back into the kitchen. His back was turned to me as he flipped the bacon.

“We drank a whole pot of coffee already?” I asked, amazed as I grabbed the empty pot and filled it with water.

“More like I drank a whole pot. Coffee is a necessity for me in the morning.”

“I would say so seeing as I only had one cup,” I laughed.

After I had the coffee set to brew, Troy was filling two plates with bacon and eggs and we headed to the table.

“Placemats and everything,” Troy chuckled as we sat down.

“Hey, you said to set the table. I very rarely get to use my placemats. Most mornings are me stumbling down the stairs and eating a quick bowl of cereal over the sink.”

“Well, I guess one good thing about me being here is my cooking.”

I took a bite of eggs and groaned. How in the hell did Troy make scrambled eggs taste like the best thing I had ever eaten. I watched him make them, noticing he really didn’t do anything out of the norm, but his eggs were anything but the norm. They were out of this world. “Oh my god, these are seriously the best eggs I have ever tasted,” I said around a mouthful of eggs.”

“They’re just eggs, Sunshine,” Troy smirked.

“What did you call me?” I asked, my fork suspended in midair.

“Sunshine.”

“Why?” I asked, curious.

“Your hair and your, well… everything.” Troy shrugged his shoulders and tore his eyes away from me.

“My everything, huh?”

   
      
“Jesus Christ,” Troy mumbled under his breath.

   
      
“Well, now I feel obligated to say something I like about you. Let’s see,” I mused as my gaze traveled over Troy’s body.

   
      
“You don’t need to say shit. Forget I ever called you Sunshine,” Troy gruffed, grabbing his half empty plate and dumped it down the garbage disposal.

   
      
“No, no. I like it.”

   
      
Troy just shook his head started making water to do the dishes.

   
      
“I like your shoulders,” I blurted out as I watched his tee stretch taut across his shoulders.

   
      
“My shoulders, huh? Must be slim pickings of things you like about me if that was the only thing you could come up with,” He laughed as he walked over to the table, grabbed his cup and filled it up.

   
      
I glanced at my cup, seeing I had only drank half of it and wondered how the hell Troy could drink so much coffee and not be bouncing off the walls all the time. He leaned against the counter and crossed his legs in front of him, staring me down. “I think you telling me you like my shoulders is like me telling you I like your nose.”

   
      
“What’s wrong with my nose?” I raised my hand, trailing my fingertips down my nose, wondering if Troy thought it was big.

   
      
“There’s nothing wrong with your nose, it goes perfectly with your face. I’m just saying telling someone you like their shoulders, isn’t really a normal compliment.”

   
      
“Well, I like them. They seem sturdy and well, can you know, shoulder stuff well.” Shoulder stuff well, really Marley. Just shoot me now.

   
      
“Good use of shoulders, shouldering stuff,” Troy smirked, taking a drink of his coffee.

   
      
“Yup, well, I think I’m just going to quit while I’m ahead.” I glanced out the window looking into the backyard, praying Troy would let it go.

   
      
“So how does one actually measure how well they can shoulder things? Is there like a scale you go by? Do you walk down the street and think, ‘Wow, he sure does have a set of shoulders on him.’?”

   
      
“You’re an ass.”

   
      
“I’m not an ass.”

   
      
“Yes, you are. Total ass.”

   
      
“Oh, so now we are talking asses. I’m partial to a good ass too. So you measure asses the same way you measure shoulders. Should I turn around?” Troy set his cup down turned around and braced his arms on the counter.

   
      
“I can’t believe this is happening.”

   
      
“Oh, it’s happening alright. Do I need to shake it for you? Flex it? Or, is it all about the feel?” Troy stood up straight and reached around, squeezing his own ass.

   
      
I covered my eyes and burst out laughing. I couldn’t watch any more.

   
      
“Holy shit. What the hell did I just walk into?”

   
      
I whipped my hands off my eyes and saw Meg and Cyn standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Their eyes were glued to Troy, who still had his hands on his ass, but he was now looking over his shoulder at them.

   
      
“Marley likes my shoulders. I was trying to find out if she liked my ass before you two walked in. Ever hear of knocking?” Troy still had his hands on his ass. Was he going to stand like that all day?

   
      
“We did knock, no one answered. Dude, stop feeling yourself up,” Meg replied, tearing her horrified gaze away from Troy and glanced at me.

   
      
I gave a little wave, unsure of what to say to someone who had just seen a guy groping himself, asking me if I liked his ass.

   
      
“I smell coffee.” Cyn walked over to the coffee pot and held her hand out to Troy. He reached up in the cabinet and handed her a cup.

   
      
“Me too, cowboy,” Meg ordered, holding her hand.

   
      
“I’m gonna have to make another pot with you two here.”

   
      
“Please, even if we wouldn’t have shown up, you would have made another pot. Coffee runs through your veins.” Meg held her cup out to Cyn who filled it up and they both came to sit at the table with me.

   
      
“There’s a dog under your table,” Meg said, leaning over to glance under the table.

   
      
“It’s Bandit,” Troy said, his arms crossed over his chest.

   
      
“Holy shit, buddy. I didn’t even know you were here!” Meg slid out of her chair and crawled under the table with Bandit.

   
      
After Troy and I had sat down to eat breakfast, Bandit had curled up by my feet and hadn’t moved. His tail was wagging like crazy, beating against the leg of the table, but he had yet to move away from me.

   
      
“I should have brought Bluesy over if I had known you were here, handsome,” Meg cooed from under the table.

   
      
“Um, does anyone what to tell her she’s sitting under the table?” I asked, laughing.

   
      
“There’s no point. She’s weird,” Cyn said, rolling her eyes.

   
      
“Hey, we’re all fucking weird, I just don’t care who sees my weird,” Meg called.

   
      
“I don’t think she could hide it if she wanted to,” Troy chuckled.

   
      
“If I cared, I would so be offended by that,” Meg said, crawling out from under the table and sat back in her chair.

   
      
“How come Bandit won’t come out from under the table?” Cyn asked, glancing under the table.

   
      
Bandit had curled up by my feet again after his visit with Meg.

   
      
“He likes Marley. He hasn’t left her side the whole time he’s been here except to go outside and eat,” Troy explained, filling his cup for the umpteenth time.

   
      
“Hmm, interesting,” Meg said, her eyes darting back and forth between Troy and me.

   
      
“Knock it off, Meg,” Troy said sternly.

   
      
“Never mind me,” she purred, taking a sip of her coffee.

   
      
“Yeah, that’s not likely. Why don’t you spill on what the hell you two are doing here so early?”

   
      
“It’s ten-thirty, Troy. Not exactly the butt crack of dawn,” Cyn laughed.

   
      
“For you two it is.” Troy shot Meg a look and shook his head.

   
      
“I was wondering what time you have to work today.” Meg asked, turning her attention to me.

   
      
“She’s not fucking working today!” Troy bellowed.

   
      
We all turned our gazes to Troy, who had pushed away from the counter and had a scowl on his face.

   
      
“You just got kidnapped twenty-four hours ago and have a concussion. You are not going to work.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared me down.

   
      
Ha! So Troy thought he was going to tell me what I was going to do. How cute.

   
      
“Dude, chill out. I’m pretty sure Marley can decide for herself what she’s going to do. Right, Marley?” Meg scolded.