A Perfect Stitch

Chapter 40 | making family memories

His mouth-dropping gaze and eye blink followed a wave of rumbling laughs that ached my abdomen so badly that I almost developed cramps.

That wasn't even the funniest of the evening, because a moment came when Leonard skipped off the floor like a green frog to harvest Brielle from Dwain's back, but his shorts dropped to the rug.

I held a hand on my mouth and sprinted to the kitchen for a glass of water that will relieve me from choking.

I couldn't stand even a pinch of fun, my chest was flaming.

Of all the crazy things gravity had ever done to a person in front of me, taking down someone's shorts turned out to be the cruelest of them all.

Loud dramatic laughs escalated to the kitchen, trapping me between chuckles and a sweating glass of cold water.

How could I stop choking if the humans in the living room won't stop molesting my tidy mind with their tremendous screams?

A time came when I stopped struggling to sip the cold liquid and instead thought it wise to place the glass by the counter.

I contemplated walking out of the kitchen or staying a little when out of the blue, I banged my head on an exquisite hard rock.

I pressed a hand on my forehead and peeped through my lashes, only to lock eyes with the human rock who found it funny to walk around, slamming his chest into people's faces like he was the villain.

"You will pay for this, so dearly."

"Why don't you stop blabbing and get to doing your worst, huh?" His lips spread open with a pop sound, and he crossed his defined muscles over his chest, escorting a rare seductive brow that he raised at me. "C'mon, burn."

His playfulness teased my nerves.

"What?"

I stopped massaging my forehead and widened my eyes at him, confusion smoother my brain but then, an idea sparked my mind and I took a swift glance around the kitchen, hoping to find something hard enough or an object as stiff as steel to give Rockman a proper flogging, but something else held me captive and I strolled to the countertop.

He didn't see this coming. "Fine, watch me burn."

"Mr. Horton, watch out!"

Camilla badged into the kitchen seconds before the ball of flour in my hands could hit Dwain's face, but she was spectacularly late because the flour didn't waste any nanosecond to cover his whole face and stuff his mouth with a reasonable quantity.

Snow-white couldn't be as white as him, the perfect picture for Dwain's appearance would be a ghost from one of those creepy horror movies.

The fact that Dwain spat out the flour and hovered his fingers blindly over a kleenex box to grab a tissue paper to wipe his face, trapped laughing tears in my eyes.

Out of a sudden, Camilla's harsh outbursts of laughter poisoned my system and before I knew it, my butts cracked a tile on the floor although it hurt, I couldn't resist cackling so hard against my chest.

I wept.

By the time the giggles in my system subsided, Dwain stretched a hand at me but I resisted letting him help me out of my sitting position, scared that he must be planning something in the back of his mind for the whole time.

Camilla clamped her lips and walked out of us, carrying the bowl of flour along.

Refreshed by this thoughtful gesture of hers, I released a shaking breath and tangled my fingers in Dwain's.