Say You're Mine by Siobhan Davis

Say You're Mine by Siobhan Davis

Author:Siobhan Davis [Davis, Siobhan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-04T18:30:00+00:00


Chapter Nineteen

Garrick

“That was delicious,” I say, rubbing a hand across my full stomach as I push my empty plate away. Stevie went all out with filet steak, shrimp, a homemade garlic sauce, and gratin potatoes, and she even made me brussels sprouts—cooked to perfection, soft and mushy, just how I like them. For dessert, she made a berry meringue roulade, and if I eat another bite, I’m likely to keel over and die.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She reaches across the table to take my hand. “I wanted to cook something special to thank you for everything.”

“Getting to be with you is all the thanks I need.”

“How did I get so lucky to meet you?” She squeezes my hand and smiles.

“It was fate.” I laugh when she predictably rolls her eyes. “You won’t convince me otherwise.”

“Believe what you like, but you’ll never convince me. Fate is how lazy people explain inaction or an abstract notion clung to by stubborn people who refuse to believe in coincidence.” She grins and then releases my hand. Her chair scrapes across the tile floor as she abruptly stands and begins gathering up the dinnerware.

“And the cynic is in the house, ladies and gentlemen,” I tease, climbing to my feet and snatching the plates from her hands. “You cooked. I’m on cleanup duty. That’s always how it worked in my house.” Well, my dad’s house. Dawn maintains no son of hers will grow up spoiled, and we all had daily and weekly chores. My brothers constantly complain, as I did when I was younger, but Dawn is right, and I’m glad she was insistent. At least I can cook and clean and fend for myself. If I’d grown up solely with Mom, I’d be a spoiled little prick, waited on by staff for my every whim.

“You have good manners.” She darts in to kiss my cheek. “And I’m never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

After stacking the dirty dishes in the sink, I return to the table to top off her wineglass. I lean in to snatch a quick kiss, but she’s quick to shove me away. “Not a chance in hell until you’ve rinsed that brussels sprout taste from your mouth.”

I chuckle as I swat her ass. “It’s not like I carry my toothbrush with me wherever I go.”

“You can borrow mine,” she says, “or just rinse your mouth with mouthwash.”

“If that’s what it’ll take to steal more kisses, so be it.” I whistle under my breath as I head off in the direction of the bathroom.

“Oh, and Garrick?!”

I spin around on my heels to face her.

“I’m not cynical. I’m pragmatic, and I’d much rather believe in unplanned coincidental events than supernatural predetermined nonsense that can’t ever be proven.”

When I return a few minutes later with minty-fresh breath, I find my girl spreadeagled on the couch, trawling through movies on Netflix. Leaning down, I claim her lips in a brief tender kiss. “Better?” I murmur before brushing my lips against hers again.



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