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"Sitting at the kitchen table, Assail could only stare at his cousins. The pair of contract killers, drug dealers, and enforcers had not only washed up before the meal, they were now easing back in their seats and looking like they wanted to loosen their pants. As Marisol's grandmother got to her feet again, Assail shook his head. "Madam, you must enjoy this food on which you worked so diligently." "I am enjoying." She headed back for the counter and cut more bread. "These boys, they need to eat more. Too thin, too thin." At this rate, she was going to turn his backups into--what was the expression, sofa potatoes?
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J.R. Ward |