Page 131 of Family Bonds- Emma & Warren
“What did you mean by dinner would be here in a few hours?” he asked when she set a big plate of everything cut up. Not arranged nicely, more haphazardly dumped down. They were just going to eat it anyway.
“Grace is off today. She’s making a few dishes for us to warm up and eat. I put a request in for what you like. So for the next several days, you’ll be able to put together food like you did when Marcia cooked for you.”
“Seriously?” he asked.
“Yes. I might get spoiled. I begged Grace and she said yes. She actually loves doing those things. As a payment, I’ve got to let Lincoln into a private suite for a game.”
It was worth it in her eyes. She planned on going to another game at some point this season anyway.
Though it didn’t seem as if it was going to be anytime soon.
Three weeks before he could even be checked out to be cleared or not.
If she was secretly hoping he wouldn’t be cleared for longer, she’d never say those words.
“That’s easy enough,” he said. “It seems a bit lopsided though.”
“Not really,” she said. “Grace has her staff making food for the rest of the time you’re here. We just have to put the order in and then I’ll pick it up. It’s like family-style food from The Retreat.”
“Now I know I’m getting spoiled,” he said.
“It doesn’t have to be menu items,” she said. “I don’t want you working or stressing or anything, but my guess is you’ve got it down somewhere what Marcia makes for you, right?”
“I do,” he said. “On my computer.”
“Then we’ll figure it out when it’s time,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
“About the same,” he said. “Tired, which sucks. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be a bear. Don’t hate me. The last time this happened I had to rest but not like this. Not this long or this restricted. I went nuts.”
“I won’t hate you,” she said. “Maybe we can do something together.”
“Like what?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be getting my heart rate up for a week or so. That takes sex off the table.”
“Bummer,” she said, smirking. “But I’ve gone a lot longer. Not with you under my roof, but you know. We’ll be fine. I thought you could plot a book for me if you want.”
“What? Plot a book? I don’t know how to do that.”
“Because you’ve never tried. But you’re smart and you understand what I do and how I do it. I’ll explain some formulas to you.”
“We’ve got to do math?” he asked. “That was my worst subject.”
She picked up a strawberry and put it to his lips. “Eat and don’t talk. It’s not a math formula. Books follow formulas. Basic ones. An introduction, an incident that allows you to meet the characters, rising tension, climax, and a resolution. Start like that. Then build out from each one.”
“Do you do this?” he asked. “I thought you just wrote without a plot.”
“I do mainly,” she said. “But I have a few things like this lined up. I know how I want my characters’ personalities to be, and then I start to write. They don’t always follow the same path as I start them.”
“They mature,” he said. “Like you.”
“Hey,” she said, trying to take offense to that. “I’ve always been mature.”
“You’ve always joked, but you’re not doing it as much. How come?”
“I still joke,” she said. “But maybe there are serious things in life too. It could be I didn’t have enough in my life personally before to take seriously.”
He held his hand out. “Maybe,” he said. “But I still like the person I met bartending seven months ago.”
“Seven months,” she said. “I think this is the longest I’ve been in a relationship. How about you?”
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