Page 24 of Ella’s Data

Oh, hell yes!

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Data

Because rain was still forecasted, we’re in my truck, but it’s definitely worth it to keep Ella from shivering due to the temperature dropping the way it did tonight. I may not have the medical knowledge she has, but I know enough to realize that with her on steroids right now, she’s more susceptible to getting sick. Once we’re heading to the RV park, I ask, “Do we need to stop and grab anything?”

“No, I’ve got plenty of food, drinks, and snacks at my place,” she replies. “Pipes told me how wild it was over there tonight. Is Colt really going to be okay?”

“Well, last night he was at the ER because he was reacting to the makeup used on the prosthetic mask, which the kid who made it fixed this morning once we called the teacher, and tonight, he became a patient thanks to some drunk asshole who clocked him in the jaw. He’s a tough one, and he’ll be fine,” I promise. “Won’t hurt that Rebel’s siccing the club attorney on the bastard who hit him, either. Plus, being charged with assault might put his job in jeopardy as well.”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” she muses.

“Yeah, I don’t remember what kind of job he’s got, but depending on the company he works for, since we’re an at-will state, they could let him go due to missing work for all the appearances he’s about to face, but also, if he has any kind of professional license, that could be revoked as well,” I tell her, having done a little digging earlier.

“Huh, hope it was worth it for him then,” she spits out, sounding all growly. “Because not only was he drunk, but he may have fucked his life up for what was nothing but a prank.”

“Exactly,” I reply.

We finally arrive at the RV, and I put the truck in park. I hear her grabbing her keys out of her purse and by the time I get to her door, she has them between her fingers the way women are taught to carry them. I hadn’t noticed she does that before, but it makes sense since she’s usually by herself. I lock the truck and stand behind her as she unlocks the door, then motion for her to let me go inside first to check things out.

“Data,” she whines as I make quick work of thoroughly checking her RV before I allow her to come inside. “I’ve gotta pee.”

“You could’ve gone back at the haunted house,” I point out as she pushes past me and heads into the bathroom.

“Yeah, no thanks, not going into the murder mansion. Anyway, I didn’t have to go until the cool air hit me.”

I quietly laugh as I lock the door behind me and take the time to turn a few lights on to chase away the darkness. That was one of the reasons I wanted to check inside; while everything looked fine from the outside, she would never know until it was too late that someone was inside.

She pops out of the bathroom, toeing off her sneakers and placing them on the mat by the door, then heads to the bedroom. I follow behind her only to have to back up when she returns with pajamas in her hand. “I need another shower,” she says, “because you didn’t have any conditioner and my hair may not look it, but it’s tangled as hell.”

“Go get your shower, honey, and I’ll rustle up something for us to eat,” I reply, dropping a kiss on her lips.

She closes the door behind her, but I clearly hear her say, “I bought a thingie from the grocery store that has grilled chicken breasts that are already cooked, they just need to be heated up and have some steamable potatoes and veggies in the freezer.”

I chuckle as I head into the kitchen area and find the food she mentioned. “Guess we’re having chicken, with red potatoes and green beans in garlic sauce,” I mutter, reading the directions on each package to see which one needs to be heated first.

I get the veggies going since the chicken won’t take as long and find a loaf of sliced Italian bread. Pulling out several slices, I see her butter container on the counter and grin. She couldn’t understand why I refrigerated mine and I didn’t get why she left hers out. Digging around the drawers, I find the silverware and get the bread buttered before I hunt down some plates. When the potatoes are halfway done, I grab the chicken breasts, slide them onto a different plate and put it inside the microwave, grateful that she has a full-sized one so there’s room for everything.

By the time she finally emerges, steam following behind, I have dinner ready and waiting on the table. “Just need to know what you want to drink,” I say as I sip on a beer.

“Water. I should drink water tonight,” she says, walking toward me. “I think I need one of your hugs, Data.”

I’m never going to argue with her when it comes to having my arms wrapped around her body. I tug her toward me and let out a soft oomph when our bodies collide. “Glad to see you’re working on your daily quota,” I tease, nuzzling at her neck.

“It’s getting easier to ask for them,” she admits, looking up at me. “Okay, let’s eat. Damn, I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing for days now.”

Laughing, I lead her to the table and once she sits on her side, I grab her a bottle of water from the fridge before joining her. “Have you ever had these before?” I ask as I cut the chicken.

“Not the chicken, but I like those steamable things,” she replies. “Sometimes, if I’m too tired to grab takeout, I’ll heat one of those up and it’s just enough to carry me through the night.”

“Ella,” I drawl out. “You need to try to do better. You can’t help others if you’re dragging your ass because you’re not eating right.”

“I know, I know,” she sasses. “But you were there in the Carolinas and saw how we worked. Not every assignment is like that, thank goodness, mostly just the natural disaster ones. But those are the ones that seem to expend the most energy.”

“I need to think about this,” I murmur as I continue to eat. “There’s gotta be a way when you’re gone on assignment that I’ll know you’re eating properly if I can’t go with you.”