Page 34 of I’m Fine Save Me (The Spiral Duet #1)

Chapter twenty-five

Tegan

A Few Days Later

“ A lright, Hannah wants breakfast for dinner. So I made the waffle batter in that pitcher on the top shelf of the fridge.”

I’m pointing at everything as I go, trying to make sure Cooper has it all in mind when I leave. I’m not looking forward to dinner with Wayne; but I’m the one who told him if he could get his shit together and make an effort, then I would make one too.

Now I have to keep my word or I’m just as bad as he is.

“The honey she likes is on the table in the bear bottle, and she likes it when you slice up a banana on top of her waffle. You have to drizzle the honey before you put the banana slices on the waffle though. If you do it in the wrong order she won’t eat. It could lead to a meltdown.”

It sounds like such a small thing, but the slightest mistake can have monumental consequences.

Cooper nods at me from where he leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest.

His bare chest.

His hair is pulled up into its usual post shower topknot, no shirt, and a pair of low slung, dark wash jeans.

I really fucking don’t want to go to this dinner.

“You did that on purpose,” I mutter. Pointing my index finger from the top of his head, over his inked torso, wagging my index finger between his pierced nipples, then down to the soles of his bare feet and back to accusingly point at his handsome, scruffy face. “You’re distracting as fuck.”

The fucker just smirks at me like he’s proud of my attraction to him.

“Cooper, I have to do what I said I would do.”

He’s not saying a fucking word, but he doesn’t have to.

He knows that I don’t want to go and he’s just letting me have my internal argument out loud.

With a sigh, I continue to rattle off instructions to get Hannah through her nightly routine.

He’s never done this without me here. That just makes me more nervous about going.

Once I’ve gone over all of it one more time, I decide that if I do it again I’ll just stress everyone out even more. Hannah is sitting at her little table in the corner of the living room, playing with her blocks.

Of course, I have no idea what she’s building, but it’s obvious there’s a blueprint in her brilliant little mind.

Kneeling down beside her and kissing the side of her head, I whisper my good night and tell her the plan for her father to make her waffles for dinner.

I have been reminding her all week in hopes of preparing her for the change.

She just nods and turns her head to kiss my cheek without ever taking her eyes off of her little project. Leaving her to it, I stand, collect my keys, purse, and phone before I feel those strong arms wrapping around my waist from behind.

Instantly, the stress and tension I’m feeling melt into the muscled forearms crossing over my abdomen and the chest pressed against my back. Rolling my head back onto his shoulder, I close my eyes. I let out a long, deep exhale.

“Don’t let him get into your head, no matter what he says.

You’re amazing, you’re strong, and you did the right thing even when he didn’t.

He’s lucky that you’re his daughter and he needs to learn how to remember that.

” Cooper says, his breath caressing my ear as he speaks in that low, calming tone.

His arms tighten around me in a hug that presses all the cracks in my protective walls together before he turns me in that strong embrace. The kiss he gives me reinforces my defenses, and when his lips break away from mine, he grins.

“I love you,” he says quietly, just for me.

When I return the words, he turns to make a grand gesture like he’s the tall, inked, and sexy blue collar male version of Vana White.

“Ready to help your old man make some waffles, Little Bit?” With a wink at me, he scoops up Hannah when she gleefully reaches for him. They head into the kitchen to start the inevitable mess that will be waffles for dinner.

Arriving at Wayne’s house, I’m pleasantly surprised to find out his wife and step children are out visiting her parents. When he’d first gotten re-married, I’d tried to be a good person and get to know his wife and her kids.

They never gave a welcoming vibe. It always seemed more like they’d rather forget Wayne ever had a marriage or family before them.

My sigh of relief gets caught in my throat when Wayne wraps his arms around me in a tight hug. It’s wildly uncomfortable; but I pat his back lightly with one hand, trying to give the illusion of a return hug.

Every muscle in my body is trying to tell my brain to pull the fuck away, but I’m trying to avoid drama tonight. When he finally releases me, he beams like he’s won the lottery.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I couldn’t figure out what to cook.”

He walks me to the kitchen, and I look around the house as we move through the living room. The house is a single wide trailer that’s definitely lacking in space for two adults, two near adult teens, and a nine year old. I grew up in a trailer smaller than this, so I’m not judging it by any means.

I’m more concerned about the piles of laundry stuffed in the corner behind the dining table.

There are clothes in various states of cleanliness scattered around the table that’s pressed up against the wall opposite of the sink.

The second table is covered with stacks of papers on all but two place settings.

I’m guessing that’s where we’re going to sit and have dinner.

I can hear my mother’s voice in my head, threatening to literally murder my social life if her kitchen wasn’t cleaned before bedtime some nights.

The rule was always if she or Wayne cooked dinner, my sisters and I would clean up the mess before turning in for the night.

If laundry wasn’t folded and put away, making weekend plans with friends could go right out the window.

It looks like such rules do not exist here with his new family.

“Sorry about the mess. I’ve been pulling a lot of swing shifts and I don’t get things done in between work and sleep.”

“No biggie.” I answer in a tone so flippant that I’m shocked at myself. “What are the options for dinner? I can help.” The offer feels hollow, but his beaming smile returns like I’ve just uttered the exact words he was hoping to hear.

Wayne scoots past me in the barely there space we have to move around the cluttered kitchen, and he opens the fridge.

“We’ve got some chicken cutlets thawed out and some bags of salad. There’s ground beef, but it might still be a bit frozen in the middle. I thought about making pasta, but I didn’t take the beef out in time. There’s… cheese. We could just make grilled cheese and soup.”

He’s still mumbling ingredients when I pat his shoulder.

“Chicken cutlets are fine. I’ll season them and get them cooked. We can have salad. I’ll see what you have that I can use to make a dressing.”

He moves out of my way and I poke around the fridge for a minute.

When I emerge, I have the cutlets and a few ideas on what I can put together.

It’s been a few years since I had to fly by the seat of my pants to throw a meal together.

Between Cooper and Hannah, it’s always a strict list of meals and ingredients that stay on our grocery list.

Sitting at the table, Wayne leans back in his chair at the head of the clutter to give me room to work.

“Next time, we can just order in so neither of us have to cook,” he says while I get a pan, wash it, and then set it to heat on the stove. “I’m glad you came over, Tegan. I really thought you would find a reason not to, or you would tell your mother and she’d talk you out of it.”

“We’re not talking about Mama tonight, Wayne.”

“Can you at least call me dad when you’re in my house with me, sweetheart?” he says in a defeated tone while I season the cutlets as best as I can with what he has.

After making a mental note to thank my mom for letting me spend my childhood in the kitchen with my grandparents, I look back at him over my shoulder and give a short nod. He hasn’t been dad in a long time, but I can refrain from saying it or his name to circumvent that argument altogether.

“I’d rather us talk and catch up rather than anything negative being said about my mother or my sisters. I know you’re working a lot, but how are you doing?”

I’ll get him talking about himself, and he’ll be happy for the rest of the night. Then I can escape this evening without his dramatics… maybe.

The muscle in his jaw ticks like he’s fighting the urge to say something. I don’t know what he could be tense about, unless all he had planned on discussing tonight was my mother. It wouldn’t shock me, but I’m not playing that game either.

“Well, I started writing in my spare time. I’m working on my first novel.”

“Oh really?” I reply with sincere surprise. While he was always writing in journals about his escapades, talking out a few ideas, and scribbling random poems, I never suspected he would actually write a book. “Is it a book of poetry?”

Wayne chuckles and shakes his head. “No, sweetheart.”

I cringe at the endearment, but he doesn’t notice since I’m flipping the cutlets in the pan.

“It’s going to be a murder mystery suspense. I’ve got it all planned out.”

While I stand there and cook, Wayne tells me about his main detective character and the serial killer that he’s investigating.

All of it seems pretty standard for such a novel; and by the time I start whipping up a salad dressing and slicing the meat to go on top, he’s describing a graphic scene where the killer’s methods are discovered.

I set his plate in front of him and he smiles with a nod. “This looks delicious, sweetheart. Thank you for cooking. I guess I should’ve been the one to cook since I invited you over.”

Before I can respond in any sort of way, he continues to describe this horrid scene about a stab wound with no evidence of the type of knife used. He goes on to describe how the killer would flay the skin from his victims’ hands.