Monkey Wrench (Cheap Thrills 8) - Page 72

Carter’s eyes narrowed on me. “We don’t discuss that. Ever!”

“So, you’d like me to forget that she sprayed it in the team’s colors and had a number in hot pink at the back?”

“Shit,” he muttered, groaning. “I couldn’t believe it when she turned up with it like that, but then she kept doing it for each championship game.”

“Is she still as quirky as that?”

He held his hand up and wiggled it. “A bit. It’s just the quirks are for different things now.”

Well, color me intrigued. I’d been worried and hesitant to go to Daphne, but the more I heard and remembered, the more I thought it was the best idea ever. “Like what?”

“Uh, you know those people who can make a gourmet dish out of anything?”

I nodded, even though I had no clue what he was on about. I could make great food out of the ingredients the dish needed, and as far as I was aware, that’s just how food was made. I doubted a gourmet meal could be made out of just anything.

“Well, that’s Mi-mi. Except, because of how she grew up, poorer than dirt, she can make it out of anything she comes across.” He paused his lip curling into a sneer. “Including roadkill.”

The sound of shattering was my hopes and excitement about the trip crashing down around my feet. “She what?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “she can make roadkill taste like it came fresh out of a store.”

“What kind of roadkill,” I asked slowly, a slightly nauseous feeling building. “Like, just mowed down and fresh enough to be considered still warm when you scoop it up?”

Not that it made a difference. Roadkill was roadkill. I didn’t besmirch anyone their choices, but my stomach wasn’t made for that shit. Neither was my brain, which was probably why it felt like I was about to throw up on my feet.

“She grew up knowing when something was too dangerous to eat, so she doesn’t pick up anything that’s been dead for more than four hours.” Nope, no difference was made by that fact to my stomach or my head. “The one thing she’s used to most fussy about is Armadillo. She had to be in the right area for it and has a process—”

“A process?” I asked incredulously. “Don’t those things carry leprosy?”

“Yeah, but she’s more concerned about making sure the Armadillo meat isn’t undercooked than she is about chicken. She also stopped eating it after she watched a program about them and saw the leprosy thing on there. She’d thought we were lying when we told her until that point.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stomach eating roadkill or Armadillo,” I told him honestly, fanning my face with my hand.

“If it helps, she used to put it in jambalaya and gumbo, but I know for sure she’s stopped picking them up now. Hell, she used to set traps for them because they were digging up her garden when Grandpa was alive. He’d kill them, and she’d make—”

I pressed my fist against my mouth and shook my head wildly. “You’ve got to stop. My stomach can’t take anymore.”

Snickering, he pulled me into his side. “Mi-mi won’t do anything with roadkill while we’re staying there, I promise. She’ll want to make a good impression on you, for one. She wouldn’t ever take the risk with Shanti and make her sick. Plus, she loves going to the store and seeing people too much to replace her meat purchases with something she picked up off the road.”

Drawing a deep breath into my lungs, I shot him a strained smile. “I’m sorry, I’m being a jerk. It’s not that I look down on people who eat roadkill or have no choice but to eat it, it’s just my brain and my stomach are rebelling at the thought of me eating it.”

“I get it. I was the same. Unless I saw the packaging for whatever meat we were eating in the trash, I refused to eat dinner when she cooked it.” Leaning down so that our faces were close together, he whispered, “So, will you let me take my girls away from here for a mini-vacation in Daphne?”

Like I could resist the puppy dog eyes he was shooting me at that moment. “Absolutely, but don’t hate me if I use your meat packaging tactic.”

“It won’t be for long. Shanti’s school will understand. I just want them to find the guy who held up McGill’s and the person who fucked with your house. Removing you and Hubba Bubba from the equation means the guys can concentrate on finding him instead of focusing on whether you’re in danger or not.”

“I would have toughed it out, but when you put it like that, it’s probably best we go away until he’s found. I don’t know how long Dave will let me have off, but hopefully, it’ll give them enough time.”

Tags: Mary B. Moore Cheap Thrills Romance
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