HAPPY | ✔

05.0 BREAKFAST AT LUKE'S

"The fück you doing in my kitchen?"

I jumped, cursing when I banged my head on the edge of the top shelf. "Motherfu-"

A head of lettuce rolled off and managed to plunk me on the exact same spot. "Ahh!"

Wincing as I rubbed at the soreness, I straightened up and closed the refrigerator doors. I turned to face my scowling brother. He lifted an eyebrow in question.

"I ran out of eggs," I gave him a sheepish look, placing the tray on the granite counter-top.

"And instead of going to a grocery store, you decide to break into my apartment," he remarked dryly, "because that makes sense." He nodded slowly in mock understanding.

"At least here they're free," I mumbled.

"Right," he drawled, the sarcasm thick, "because three dollars will throw you head first into destitution." Dropping himself on a stool by the breakfast bar, he propped a hand under his chin, bracing against the counter. "I'll take mine scrambled with butter."

"Are eggs really three dollars a dozen?" I questioned with genuine curiosity.

"The hell should I know?" he began bewildered, "Valerie does all the shopping."

"And the cooking, and the cleaning, and the washing and the ironing," I gave him my back, searching his top cupboards for a whisk or a fork, whichever came first. "Tell me, does she fan your äss when you fart and wipe your crack when you take a shït?"

Triumphantly, I held the whisk I had discovered and began stirring away, adding a little milk, salt and pepper as I went along.

"Unfortunately, no, she does not. But she does hand feed me grapes on occasion."

I laughed hard in disbelief, "You better be paying that goddess a fortune."

"I pay her what I can afford."

I gave him a pointed stare, "Exactly, a fortune."

"Right," he replied airily. I laughed until I was almost in stitches while Luke just grinned, his shoulders shaking in silent amusement.

I heated a pan and greased it with half a stick of butter. While it melted, I toasted some whole grain bread and got two glasses. "Milk or orange juice?"

"Coffee."

"You know damn well caffeine isn't good for you," I said, disapproving, "Mama used to always say it slows down the brain."

"Either is fine then," I didn't have to see his face to know he was rolling his eyes.

I poured two glasses of OJ and set one infront of him. I added the eggs to the pot and stirred four or five times before dishing them out with two slices of bread each.

"Fork," he pointed to a draw left of the sink. I got two and we ate together in silence.

To Luke's credit, he did not press me. He focused all his attention on his eggs before draining his cup. When he had scraped the plate clean, he walked around to drop it in the sink before returning to his seat. Then he just stared, unblinkingly, straight into my soul.

I became so unsettled I started to shift on my feet. Luke just had a way of looking at a man that never failed to make him feel uncomfortable in his own skin. My eyes darted away from his in haste. I played with the crumbs on my plate, moving them back and forth with my fork before I eventually succumbed.

"There's this girl,'"

He blinked, finally, "Dark skinned, curly hair, thick as fück?"

"Yes, " I sighed, "her name is Joyce."

"The girl you abandoned me for at Sammy's?" I nodded in confirmation but he still continued, "Short, beautiful, äss like a truck?"

I was quickly becoming annoyed, "How the fück do you know she's beautiful when you haven't even seen her face?"

He leaned back, propping both elbows on the back of his chair. "True, but I saw that body from behind, and that girl is gorgeous." He let out a low whistle that had my teeth grinding.

Seeing the look on my face, he had a hearty laugh at my expense before asking, "What about her Daniel?"

I released a breath, "I want her."

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