Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4) (14 page)

BOOK: Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4)
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“Don’t you say one
word about the state of my ass to that woman, Honor,” Zeke ordered sternly as
Honor blushed.

“The bottom line –
and once again, no pun intended – is I think you might have overstayed your
welcome in my home, Ezekiel.  Much like the smell of fish, unwanted guests
begin to stink after the third day and you’ve been smelling something fierce
for a while now,” she informed him primly, clasping her hands in front of her
waist as she stared innocently at him.

“Now, Honor,” Zeke
chided, amused.  “What would your mother say right now about that most
unwelcoming attitude you have?”

“Holy crap.  He
brought Momma into it,” Faith whispered violently to Harmony. 

“The fool’s
clearly lost his mind,” Harmony returned uneasily.

“Moron,” Aunt Orla
cackled.  “Harriet, God rest her soul, woulda cut your ding-a-ling off at the
root for streakin’ in her kitchen.”

“True though that
may be, Auntie, I think my mother would be impressed that I’ve managed to
maintain my sanity for this long.  She raised me to be a good hostess, and
heaven knows, I’ve tried.  But you, Ezekiel, could make a preacher cuss on
Sunday.  You’ve been nothing but a demanding, domineering pain in my derriere
since you took my house hostage.  I swear, you shadow me when I so much as
wander toward the bathroom.  And when it’s not you, it’s one of your trained
monkeys watching me like some kind of science experiment.  I’ve had enough!  I
told you last night that I intended to come back to work and find some kind of
normalcy again.  You chose to believe I’d cede to your will.  Your error in
judgment doesn’t translate into being either my fault or my problem.”

“No, but willfully
draining the air from my tires most certainly is,” Zeke roared.  “What if I’d
gotten a call out?”

“The SUV Abel
loaned me – but you STILL won’t allow me to drive – is parked in the garage.” 
Seeing the look of shock on his face, Honor smiled.  “Forgot about that, didn’t
you?”

“Don’t get cocky,
Kitten.   I’m in no mood.  You know what this argument is really over just like
I do.  You shouldn’t BE here!”

“This is EXACTLY
where I need to be,” she growled back, matching his tone as the two combatants
faced each other.  “It’s MY business, Zeke.  That back there,” she continued,
waving a hand toward the back of the restaurant, “is MY kitchen where I do MY
work.  Seriously, if somebody said, ‘Don’t go be a Sheriff today, it’s too
dangerous,’ you’d tell them that it’s your job and to check themselves into the
nearest mental hospital.  Why do you think I’d feel any less dedicated to my
work?”

“At the moment,
nobody is gunnin’ for me,” Zeke snapped, rapidly losing his patience with the
infuriating woman standing across from him.

“I wouldn’t bet on
THAT,” Honor returned purposefully, looking the lawman up and down.

“Is that a threat
you’re making to a sworn officer of the law, Miss McKinnon?  Because it sure
sounded like one.”

Smiling that
gentle sweet smile of hers that never failed to simultaneously melt his heart
and harden his dick, Honor shook her head.  “Of course not, Sheriff.  Don’t be
silly.  A threat implies that I might not follow through on things.  This is a
promise from me to you, Zeke.  So, listen up,” she announced, going from the
sugar-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth tone he adored to the
I-will-rip-off-your-dick-and-shove-it-where-the-sun-don’t-shine voice that
never failed to get his blood pumping. 

“I’m all ears,
darlin’,” he replied easily, propping one hand against the counter as he leaned
over it toward her.  “I do love it when you make me promises.” Honor made a
noise of disgust as she shot him a look that should have frozen his blood to
ice, but somehow just managed to make him hotter for her. 

“Get out of my
café, Sheriff, and take your Redneck Gestapo with you!  And don’t forget Deputy
Hightower who’s skulking back there in the corner tryin’ his best to be
invisible,” she ordered, pointing at where his uncomfortable subordinate was
trying to slump in a back booth.  It was kinda hard to do when a guy was over
six feet tall. 

“Or what?” Zeke
dared her with an insolent grin.

“Otherwise, I’m
gonna be forced to bring out the pressure washer and start hosing down all the
unwanted pests around this place, and I promise I’ll start with you, Sheriff
Monroe.”

He could tell by
the set of her jaw that she was serious.  His little Kitten had become a
Tigress at some point this morning.  And damn, if that didn’t turn him on, too.

“Alright, Honor,
since you’re determined to do this, we’re gonna negotiate our way to a
solution,” Zeke offered reasonably.

“The solution is
for you to take your bossy butt out of my café and let me get on with my day,
Zeke,” Honor retorted heatedly.

“Well, that’s not
happening until you and I put a few parameters on what’s gonna constitute your workday. 
Or, have you made your sisters and aunt aware of how you still haven’t been
able to sleep more than a couple of hours without jerking awake from a
nightmare?  Or the fact that when you lift anything heavier than a bag of
flour, your double up in pain? Or…”

“You can shut up
anytime now, Zeke,” Honor said through clenched teeth.

“Wait a second,”
Faith murmured, shifting her baby to hold against her chest and bouncing the
little girl gently.  “What’s he talkin’ about, Peanut?”

“Yeah, you said
you felt fine,” Harmony added reproachfully.  “Right, Aunt Orla?”

The old woman’s
eyes narrowed on her youngest niece while she nodded at Harmony’s question. 
“Fine as frog hair, that’s what she said.”

“Well, in
fairness, that’s a relative term,” Honor mumbled as she lowered her head.  “But
I DO feel loads better, y’all.  I just move a little slower than usual.”

Exchanging a look
with Zeke over Honor’s head, Harmony sighed.  “Half days.  No lifting.  Five
minute breaks every half hour.  Those are our terms,” the eldest McKinnon
sister proclaimed, elbowing Faith in the arm.

“I agree,” Faith
replied quickly.  “You’ve got to take care of yourself before you can worry
about takin’ care of the café, sis.”

“Oh, come on.  I
might as well stay home if this is all y’all are gonna let me do,” Honor
argued.

“I’d be okay with
that,” Zeke interjected, earning himself another venomous look from Honor.

“Child, you need
to learn that the world won’t crumble here at the restaurant if you need time
off.  You won’t be able to run anything if you work yourself into a coffin,
will you?  You’ve got me, your sisters, and a staff that YOU handpicked, Honor
Grace.  If I was you, I’d snatch up this deal while it’s on the table and be
happy for it,” Aunt Orla lectured sternly.

“Yes, ma’am,”
Honor said, unhappily accepting her fate from her family before turning enraged
eyes toward Zeke.  “Well, now that you got what you wanted, you can leave,” she
huffed before storming into the kitchen.

Zeke looked from
the swinging door Honor just burst through to her Aunt Orla.  “Well, I’m in it,
aren’t I?”

“Up to your
eyeballs, Lawman,” Aunt Orla agreed with a bland look at him. 

“I need to see her
for a minute and let her know I’m leaving Deputy Hightower here to watch after
her.  If I don’t, she’s sure to give the poor guy a rough time.  You mind if I
slip back and have a chat?”

Lifting the
counter for him, Orla nodded her head, her wrinkled face smiling.  “Have at it,
son, but mind you, she’s got some real sharp butcher knives back there at her
disposal.  And she’s real handy with ‘em.”

“Do I look new
here, Miss Orla?  I’m wearing my body armor,” Zeke returned with a wink and a
nod at Honor’s two sisters before he followed his woman’s path through the
swinging doors.

He found her
easily, standing at the center metal table, viciously shredding a head of
lettuce.  “Imagining that’s my face right now, aren’t you?”

“You know me so
well,” she muttered without looking up from her task.

“Kitten,” he said
as he ambled across the kitchen to stand just behind her, “put the lettuce down
and look at me.”

Tearing off the
last green leaf and hurling it into the glass bowl in the center of the table,
Honor threw down the remainder of the vegetable down and whirled to face him,
her eyes hurt and shining.  “You’ve got a big mouth, Ezekiel,” she hissed,
slapping her hand against his arm.  “Out there, broadcastin’ my personal
business for all the world to hear.  How could you?”

“Your family
needed to know that you aren’t quite as fine as you want them to believe,
Honor.  I’m not gonna apologize for lookin’ after you.  So, if you’re waiting
on an ‘I’m sorry’ because I wouldn’t support your lie to them, you’ll be here
for a while.”

Honor released a
low squeal of frustration as she smacked his arm again.  “I didn’t ask you to LIE
to them, Zeke.  I just don’t believe I should have to share every tiny detail
of my life with everybody.  And I surely don’t understand why you felt like you
had to blab everything you knew to them.  If you’re gonna live with me, I
deserve to have some expectation of privacy, darn it.  I mean, did I share with
everyone that you seem to prefer goin’ commando to wearin’ underwear if the
past month’s laundry is any indication?  Or, that when you’re exhausted, your
snores could rival a weed whacker’s engine.  Tell me, did I inform the masses
that you’ve got a birthmark shaped like Idaho on your left butt cheek?  The
answer to every question is: No, I did not!”

Zeke’s jaw
dropped.  “You studied my bare ass long enough to map out the shape of my
birthmark, Kitten?  Gotta say, I’m appalled,” he gasped, pressing a theatrical
hand to his heart.

Honor rolled her
expressive eyes at the ceiling.  “Sure, you are.  But for the record, that
birthmark is hard to miss, Zeke.  I hope you’ve had it checked out.”

“Worried about
me?” he asked gently, staring at her with gleaming eyes. 

“Only that you’ll
die in my house and I’ll have to dispose of the body,” Honor countered
smoothly, unwilling to give him anything to lord over her.

“Have I mentioned
how much I love your fire, Kitten?” Zeke asked, leaning toward her and crowding
her against the table.

“Ezekiel, that
better be your gun poking my side right now.  Otherwise, you and I are gonna
have bigger problems than we already do,” Honor threatened, breathing heavier
as his lips ghosted hers.

“Oh, my problem’s
plenty big enough already, Pretty Girl,” Zeke muttered, dropping a kiss against
her cheek.

“What did you come
back here to harass me for anyway?” she asked after a few sexually charged
seconds.  “If I only get to work for a half day, I’ve got a lot to get
through.  I don’t have time to stand here with you,” she grumbled, turning back
to her prep table and reaching for a carrot.

Dropping his hands
to her hips, he felt her stiffen, but he didn’t back down.  Over the last month,
he’d slowly been working to get her accustomed to his touch.  Now, while she
might initially tense when he put his hands on her, she didn’t startle.  When
she felt his hands against her now, she might momentarily react to his
proximity, she’d quickly settle and relax.  Much like she was doing now as she
softened against his chest and continued to dice the carrots.   “I’m waiting,”
she reminded him as she efficiently sliced her knife through the crisp
vegetable.

“Honestly, I
wanted to beg you not to overdo it on your first day back, Honor.  Contrary to
what you may think, you are a long way from being a hundred percent and you’re
exhausted on top of that, baby.”

“I’m fine,” she
insisted irritably, snatching another carrot from the bunch and breaking off the
stem.

“Keep holdin’ that
party line,” Zeke advised wryly.  “Doesn’t mean I’ll believe it.  But if you
insist on doin’ this, I’m leaving Deputy Hightower here to watch over you. 
Don’t give my man a hard time, Kitten, and DO NOT attempt to give him the slip
again.  You and Orla got lucky this morning.  Next time, I’ll lock you both up
where neither one of you can cause any trouble.”

“In my defense, I
had no idea Auntie was gonna try and break the sound barrier in her car this
morning.”

“Hmmm… I don’t
think that would have helped me any if I’d had to scrape you two off the road
if you’d wrecked, Honor.”

Honor winced as
her mind pictured what Zeke described and she flashed him a shamefaced look
over her shoulder.  “I’m sorry.  For that part,” she amended quickly.  “I’ll
have a word with Auntie about her speed.”

“Good.  Make sure
she also knows that the next high speed chase she leads any of my men on will
be her last.  I’ll jerk that license away from her myself.”

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