Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
I wandered farther, and as soon as I saw the kitchen, my belly turned and rumbled, and I realized how long it had been since I had really eaten anything. Truth was, I hadn't eaten a decent healthy meal since the day my brother passed away.
I mean, Chicken Nuggets should be the fifth food group in my opinion, but even in my addled brain, I know they are not providing me with any significant nutrition.
The kitchen was massive, with huge stainless-steel appliances, a cargo-ship sized refrigerator and freezer. For a single guy, he sure went all out. I wondered if there was actually any food inside, but pulling at the massive refrigerator door, the lights inside illuminated shelves stacked with...
Yogurt. Salad. An organic chicken ready to be cooked. A rainbow of fruit, but not a crumb of junk food. Not a single noodle carton. Not a slice of leftover pizza.
In short, none of the foods I liked.
With a disappointed frown, I closed the door and just about jumped out of my nightgown as Jesse stood tall and broad in the doorway.
“Jesus! God damn it, you scared me.” I brought my hand to my chest as my heart beat like a snare drum.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes, but not for anything in there. It's... You must have a bag of chips around here someplace. Or a box of blueberry Pop Tarts…" I pulled open a cabinet and saw only dried pulses. Really? "Or a Pepsi? Where are the glasses?”
“Why don’t you go back to your room? I told you I had a surprise for you, and I think you're ready to see it. I’ll bring you something to eat. And drink.”
“Okay. But...” I tried to think of a way to put it that wouldn't sound ungrateful. "I don't really like any of the stuff in there."
"You will. Trust me."
"No, you don't understand. I like food food. Nuggies. French fries. Pizza. Ice cream. You know. Food. Like normal people eat."
"Those are treats. You can still have them, but not all the time."
"But you're not... Look, I can't eat that stuff. It will make me sick. You don't want me to be sick, do you?" I tried to pout like I'd seen Vanessa doing at Diamond Rocks. Seemed to get her whatever she wanted, so it was worth a shot.
Jesse chuckled. "Nice try, baby. But I told you I'd be taking care of you, and sometimes what you need isn't what you want. Anyway, trust me, I'm a good cook. I didn’t spend all my time as a soldier fighting, you know. I can make that stuff," he pointed a thumb at the fridge, "taste better than any pizza or quarter pounder."
I screwed up my face. "I doubt it."
“Go back to your room. I’ll be right there.” His calm, stern voice made it clear it was going to be a fight I would lose.
“Fine, but if I'm sick it will be your fault.”
I made my way back down the long window-lined hallway toward the bedroom, my little soft nightgown flowing around me as I walked. I wondered what the surprise was going to be, and whether I might actually be sick when I tasted whatever he was about to cook for us.
But as I waited more patiently than I'd ever waited in my life, sitting cross-legged on the bed with the little nightgown pooling around my legs, my nose started to twitch.
Then my mouth started to water.
And by the time he came though the door with a serving tray in his hands, I was just about drooling at the smell drifting through the hallways.
"What is it?" I demanded, snatching the tray out of his hands and pulling the lid off the top of the dish.
It didn't look like any sort of normal food, but it smelled amazing. Like, better than pizza.
"Just a little breakfast for hungry girls. You made Daddy very happy last night, but I know it must have drained your strength. Also, you're still getting over your... past. This is strength boosting and easy to digest."
He laughed as I lost patience and dug the fork into the offered food. As I put it in my mouth, I closed my eyes.
"You've got scrambled eggs," he said. "Smoked salmon. Spinach."
"Spinach?" My eyes snapped open again and I shook my head. "No, I'm not eating that. I hate spinach."
Jesse chuckled. "Baby girl, you're already eating it. And having a mouthgasm from the looks of it."
I narrowed my eyes, then glanced down at the food. Really? That green stuff was spinach? Who knew it could actually taste good? "And this all over the top?"
"Just a few chives for extra flavor. And a sprinkle of salt and pepper."
I couldn't believe it. He wasn't kidding when he said he was a good cook. Had he really learned to do this as a soldier? I thought they ate rations from tins or something.