Make A Wish

Chapter 12

"Holy fucking hell, Trouble," Gabe said as he walked into the kitchen of the hotel suite and spotted Angel stirring something on the stove. There were numerous dishes and utensils in the sink and things all over the counters. "Why the fuck are you stress cooking? Not that I am fucking complaining because GODDAMN have I fucking missed your cooking, but why the fuck are you stressing? What's going on in that mind of yours?"

"Oh hey Gabe," She murmured as she threw him a quick glance then started stirring something else on the stove. "Lunch is almost ready."

"Looks like you are feeding a goddamn army in here, Trouble," he chuckled as he leaned against the fridge. "Do you need any help?" He already knew the answer but he also could tell she was in the state of mind that she was only half listening to what he was saying so he had to pry the information out of her by asking questions carefully so she didn't stress out anymore.

He grabbed his phone from his pocket and opened the group message FYI stress cooking under way. He hit send then slid his phone back into his pocket.

"So, what the fuck are you making us, Trouble?"

"Did you know the kitchen had no freaking oven?!?" she scoffed as she picked up the lid from the crock pot and stirred something. "Oh by the way I kind of ordered a crock pot on Victor's card that you left on the table in the living room. I didn't think he would mind since it kind of is a necessity while we are here but I wanted to let you know in case he questions the charge. But anyway, I was going to make some cookies and brownies but I couldn't since there is no oven. What kind of freaking kitchen has no oven? It's just ridiculous!"

"Yeah it fucking is," Gabe chuckled as he watched her move about. He knew in any one else's mind, it would seem chaotic and frenzy like as she moved to one thing then another while babbling but he found it beautiful. At the same time he knew there was a fine line between her working out her stress and her crossing it into melt down mode. He watched carefully for any signs plus that is also way he sent out the message, so the others were aware of her state of mind. "So if you aren't fucking baking, then what are we having for lunch?"

"Sweet and sour meatballs, mashed potatoes and brown gravy, mac and cheese, tacos, enchilada soup, salad, corn, green beans, watermelon, and grapes," she murmured as she stirred the brown gravy. "I just wanted to make some cookies and brownies and pies to do something nice but I couldn't since there is no freaking oven. How am I supposed to do something to give back to you when I can't bake? I mean I'm not that good at very much—"

"Hey now," Gabe said frowning as he pushed off the fridge, "we are not going down that goddamn road, Trouble." He grabbed her and turned her to face him. "Do you hear me? None of that bullshit, got it?"

"But—"

"No," he growled. "You don't have to do anything for us. We are doing this because we want to, we want YOU back with us as OUR queen and we will do whatever the fuck it takes to get you to be ours. You don't have to fucking cook or bake or do anything you don't want to. We fucking appreciate all the goddamn food, of fucking course, but you don't HAVE to do it for us. And none of that questioning your worth bullshit. You are fucking amazing, got it?"

She sighed and hugged him tightly, "Thank you Meanie," she whispered into his chest as she tightened her grip on him.

He smiled as he felt her relax, "Of fucking course."

Meanwhile

"Excuse me, you need an appointment! Sirs, you need an—"

Bartholomew looked up as his office door swung open and four men walked in. "What can I do for you, Mr. Blackbourne?" He asked with distaste in his voice.

"I want her documents," Owen said sternly. "Birth certificate, social, everything that is hers, now."

"And what makes you think I am just going to hand those documents over to you?" He asked curiously. "Who's to say I even have them in the first place?"

Owen continued to glare at him while Silas, North, and Raven stood behind him. "She is the one to tell us that you have her legal papers and demanded she hand them over to you then refused to give her the code to the safe in which they are held, essentially holding them hostage from her."

"They are not held against her if she knew where they were stored, Blackbourne," he rolled his eyes. "You know damn well that excuse wouldn't hold up in court. All it shows is that I was a caring fiancé in keep her important documents safe so she would no longer keep losing them with her chaotic mind and messy lifestyle. Maybe if she hadn't left me looking like a fool at the alter to run back to you then she could have gotten all her things from my property. But since she has not contacted me in over 48 hours despite many tries on my behalf, I no longer am forced to store her belongings."

"As a matter of fact, you are," he threw back. "You were essentially in a verbal contract with her in the pursuit of marriage and you willingly admit to taking over her care in a manner in which you see fit. Since the contract is no longer binding then you have to legally give her back all her possessions, including her legal documents."

"No I do not since 48 hours have passed and I have not been able to contact her," Bartholomew smirked. "Despite all my tries, I could not reach her to come to an agreement to get her things, so they are no longer in my possession. Nice try though."

Owen stared him down then after a few moments of Bartholomew shifting uncomfortably under Owen's gaze, Owen adjusted his cufflinks, then cleared his throat, "Is that the statement you are going with?"

"Yep," He smirked trying to gain some confidence back.

"Very well then," Owen said a little too calmly. "See you in court then."

"Be ready to lose," Bartholomew called as the door shut behind them.

Owen pulled out onto the highway then hit the call button on his screen, "Yeah Mr. B?" Corey's voice filled the car.

"Do it."

"Got it."