Page 157 of A Lick and A Promise
I emblazoned this on my brain so I’d never forget, and our house would never be without any of those things.
“You ready to go or are you in the middle of something?” I asked with a glance to the TV.
“Let’s go,” he replied, pushing up to his feet and taking me with him.
He switched off the TV.
Jacques trotted in from his mysterious sojourn in the bedroom (okay, it wasn’t that mysterious considering I knew he liked to snooze on my pillow, or Knox’s), his doggie senses alerting him to his people’s activity.
“We’re going to the store,” I told him. “Hold down the fort.”
He barked.
Since I hadn’t gotten a hello, I went to him, picked him up, gave him a cuddle then set him down.
During this, Knox put on his boots and grabbed our grocery list.
Knox and I headed out to the Prius.
We went to Fry’s.
We loaded up with food, including a backup jar of apple butter, bag of Ruffles and tub of dip.
We headed back to the house and dragged it up.
We put it away.
We went together to take Jacques on a Sunday afternoon walk.
When we returned, Knox wandered back to a football game (or whatever).
Jacques and I wandered back to my bedroom.
I took issue with how crunched my tees were in their single drawer (when they used to have two), so I set about concocting the perfect fold so they all fit and I could see them (I licked it).
I then checked his drawer and saw he’d formed it in three sections: boxer briefs, shorts, and tees. But they were all scrunched up and you had to shove them down to push the drawer in. Therefore, I took everything out, refolded, put it back, and he had enough room to add a couple more tees, pairs of socks and undies.
Onward to the closet, and since Knox had noticed my system, he hadn’t fucked it up, it was doable.
That said, the hems of his jeans didn’t line up with the waistbands, so I adjusted those. And he just tossed his button downs on a hanger without buttoning the top button to make them hang right, so I dealt with those too.
When I went to the bathroom though, I had to back out immediately, wipe it from my brain and take it on another day (I already knew Knox wasn’t a primper, as such, but he did shave, have product for his hair, was into cologne, and he was the only man I’d ever known (and I approved of this) who took as good care of his skin as I did—we weren’t talking serums or anything, but he didn’t wash his face with a bar of soap and go out to take on the day; facewash and moisturizer were involved).
Knox made a mustard-honey-rosemary marinade for the pork tenderloin and set it in the fridge. When the time came, we paired it with leftover hash brown casserole, sautéed green beans and Pilsbury crescent rolls and ate in front of the TV.
I did this thinking it was a mixed bag day.
The Angels were officially out on the Chambers Family Drama, which was good.
We couldn’t do anything about Cheyenne, which was bad.
She’d lost it on Knox, and that was worse.
But there might be an enemies to lovers sitch we could watch happening between Jayden and Clarice, which was awesome.
And it was undoubtedly someone in Knox’s family who ordered a man’s death, and that was hideous.
But we started the day together.
