I held up my finger to Rip when he sighed in annoyance for what felt like the second time in five minutes, and I quickly walked over to the couch, made Viera comfy, and flipped on Sesame Street.
“Yay!” She clapped her hands. “My favorite!”
“Stay,” I commanded.
Like she was a dog.
The cat jumped up to sit with her, and I turned to face Rip.
His arms were crossed, and I finally noticed he was wearing low-slung black Nike joggers that highlighted every muscle.
I gulped and met his gaze. I was in yesterday’s dress, most likely with swollen eyes and makeup streaked across my face.
“So.” I braced myself, wringing my hands together. “I was exhausted last night, we all were. I told myself I’d take a quick power nap and accidentally slept through the night.”
His cold stare wasn’t helping my rising anxiety. “Why didn’t you set the alarm on your phone?”
It was my turn to cross my arms across my chest. “I was tired, Rip, I wasn’t thinking clearly, so the casseroles—”
“Are all bad,” he finished with a curse. “The food that everyone so lovingly made for us just sat on the countertop while you slept. Am I hearing that right?”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child,” I hissed. “Everyone makes mistakes! It was a long day for all of us.”
“Then don’t fucking act like a child!” he snapped right back. “You can’t even manage to cook an egg, let alone a dinner, so what’s your plan? McDonald’s every day? Burger King at night?”
Tears stung the backs of my eyes. “That’s not fair. I’m in over my head, but at least I’m trying! Besides, what’s your contribution? Bossing me around and criticizing me any chance you can get? God forbid your dinner come from a fast-food restaurant lest a french fry accidentally touch your nugget!”
His voice lowered as he leaned closer. “First off, I don’t eat fries.”
I clenched my hands into fists. “Shocker, wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect physique, now would we?”
“Checking out the goods again?” His nostrils flared.
“I would rather set myself on fire than touch you again!”
“Sure.” He snorted. “Whatever. I’m going to be late for work. Clean up this mess and try to keep Viera alive until I get back.”
“Cool, so I get to stay and clean up everything, grocery shop so we have food to feed everyone, and manage to get Viera down for a nap, while what? You schmooze clients and have an hour-long lunch filled with wine and laughter?”
He frowned. “You really don’t know what I do for a living, do you?”
“You’re a fancy accountant. With a fancy car. And a fancy suit. With fancy words and a fancy, perfect life. Did I come close?”
He sneered. “You have no idea what you’re fucking talking about! I work my ass off. Unlike some people, I have a real job.”
“You jackass!”
“Swear jar!” I heard Viera yell in her tiny voice from the couch.
She’d heard me say “jackass,” but Rip saying “fuck” went unnoticed? Unbelievable!
As though he could read my mind, he grinned and took a step forward, his body towering over me as he bent down and whispered in my ear, “Fuck.”
I sucked in a breath. “You, you, you—”
He just grinned and chanted it under his breath the entire way back up the stairs while a clueless Viera clapped her hands to whatever song was on the TV.
Like she only had hyperhearing when it came to my voice.