Текст книги "Fire Me Up"

Автор книги: Rachael Johns

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Chapter 10

Later that night, Travis tried to block out the noise from the bar as he sat once again in the office and hacked into computer records. This job was far easier when he knew what he was looking for. He guessed if there was evidence to find it wouldn’t be obvious—it wasn’t like the Ministry would have planned their hit via email—but at least this gave him something to do. Something to keep his mind off of Billie. And Lorna.

He shook his head at that thought and took another sip of the beer he’d liberated from the bar. The liquid had barely coated his throat when he felt a presence behind him. He turned slowly, expecting to see Ajax or Blue, but almost choked at the sight of Billie standing in the doorway. Or rather Billie’s bad-girl twin. Her blond hair was more mussed up than usual, but it was her outfit that made every muscle in his body tighten. She wore a fitted black T-shirt with the words “Fallen Angel” scrawled across her tits, and he wasn’t sure whether the strip of denim across her thighs was a belt or actually a very short skirt. Either way, his gaze snapped to her long, shapely legs, and the recollection of them wrapped around his body as he drove into her in the shower hit him as if it were a physical blow. Her feet, which were usually bare, were encased in some kind of black, strappy heels, giving him all kinds of fantasies he shouldn’t and didn’t want to be having.

She looked damn hot—reminded him a little of Sandy from Grease when she went all bad girl at the end—but although she might be dressed like the girls that frequented The Priory, that didn’t mean she was one of them. Looks could be deceiving. But what the hell game was she playing, coming in here looking like that?

She hit him with a smile and he realized his tongue had been hanging out. Dammit. He snapped his mouth shut and glared at her. “What are you doing here?”

Her chirpy expression didn’t falter. “I thought we had a dinner date?”

He made some kind of snort-cum-scoffing noise. “I don’t date, sugar.” And besides, after the little display he’d put on in her gallery this morning, he thought she’d be through with him. He’d sure as hell shown her his true colors.

She raised her eyebrows. “So what was Café Du Monde?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I was horny. I wanted your pussy and I knew the only way to get it was to play nice, but I’m not nice. I thought you saw that today.” It wasn’t entirely true—he’d enjoyed her company as much as her body—but he thought he sounded convincing.

“Maybe I don’t care what I saw today. Maybe I don’t care about your personality; maybe I just want you for your body as well.”

For a second her words shocked him, but then he chuckled. “In my experience, women say stuff like that but in the end, they can’t keep emotions and sex separate.” Although fuck knows why she’d find anything else to like about him.

“I’m not a walking cliché, Travis. I’m not asking for a wedding ring, just more of what we had last night. A lot more.”

“Well, that’s a damn shame, because I’m done with you.” He pretended to go back to what had been keeping him busy on the screen, not daring to look at her for fear she’d see he was lying. It was better this way. For him. And definitely for her.

“Fine. If you want to punish the both of us, then go ahead. I’m not going to beg.” And with that, she turned on those fucking-amazing heels and stalked out into the bar.

Travis closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know how long he’d have been able to resist her in that outfit. Especially if she did start to beg. Jesus, the thought made his cock ache. Deciding he needed something stronger than beer to distract him, he stood and headed out into the noisy bar. He weaved through the bartenders and was about to serve himself a bourbon when he saw something out of the corner of his eye that made his blood boil.

“What the fuck?” Instead of walking her pretty little ass back to the gallery, it looked like Billie had bought herself a drink, or someone had bought one for her, and was happily chatting about fuck-knows-what with one of the Quarter’s known dealers. He quickly located Ajax and Blue, informed them of the undesirable loitering in their domain, and then went over to remove Billie before things got ugly.

She yelped in protest the moment he clamped his hand around her arm. “Stop manhandling me. Where the hell do you think you’re taking me?”

Travis didn’t reply until they were out back in The Priory’s private courtyard. “If I was manhandling you, you’d know it.”

Billie glared at him, her breasts heaving up and down—either she was annoyed or out of breath. Maybe both. Either way, he wanted nothing more than to shove his hands up her provocative skirt and cover her mouth with his. Somehow, he summoned all the willpower he possessed and landed his hands on either side of the wall so she couldn’t escape while he read her the riot act.

“Then what the hell are you doing?” she demanded.

“What the hell am I doing?” She was priceless. Totally naïve. “I’m rescuing you from getting raped. Or worse.”

She blinked. “Isn’t that my business? And anyway, what makes you any better than that dude?”

“Are you doing this to make me jealous?” His fists curled and he forced a couple of deep breaths, then dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back.

“Is it working?” She licked her lips and it almost pushed him over the edge.

“Go home.” He nodded in the direction of the gallery. “Go back to where you belong and forget about me. You don’t fit in a place like this, no matter what you’re wearing.” Although The Priory was no longer officially associated with bikers, it was one of the rougher bars on Bourbon Street. The tourists that ventured inside these walls were out for a good time, whatever the cost. “Here women are toys unless they’re property. We’re animals, and right now we’re in the middle of a war.”

“Are you trying to scare me?” She lifted her chin high and met his gaze head on.

Hell yes, that was exactly what he was trying to do. For his sake as much as for hers. Fucking her had been stupid enough once, but sleeping with her again would be crazy as well as dangerous. Because what if one more night wasn’t enough? Quite aside from the fact that he was a lone wolf, she was too good for the likes of him.

He sighed, deciding to use a different tack. “You’d be stupid if you weren’t scared. I’m trying to give you an out; I’m trying to fucking protect you. From me and whatever bad comes with me. You and me, sweetheart, we’re from different worlds. You’re here to bring happiness to tourists, to give them a bright and shiny memory of New Orleans. I’m here to enact justice for an old friend, nothing more. As soon as I’ve done my job I’m out of here. And I’m not gonna pretty things up for you. Blood will likely be spilled, and I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire of any of that shit.”

“It’s not working.” She smiled. “The fact that you care about what happens to me only makes me want you more.”

And then, before he could anticipate what she was about to do, before he could tell her he didn’t care, she pressed up on her toes, clamped her hands around his head and yanked him against her. Their lips met and she shoved her tongue inside his mouth with a ferocity he hadn’t thought her capable of. She took control, sliding her hands down his back and into his jeans, cupping his buttocks in a vise-like grip. It was sexy as hell. And no matter the sirens sounding in his head, he wasn’t man enough to resist.

The switch he’d been barely keeping control of since she’d come into the office wearing fuck-me shoes and not much else flicked. He’d done his best. He’d tried damn hard to warn her, but she was a stupid little girl who couldn’t take no for an answer. Maybe it was his duty to teach her a lesson.

He stepped up even closer, pushing her back against the cool, hard wall of The Priory, his cock already hard and threatening to break out of his jeans. As he took control of the kiss, biting her lip and then tasting her right down to her cleavage, he unbuckled his belt and freed himself. Billie squeaked like a frightened mouse, but within seconds she reached out and wrapped her hand around him. The feeling was intense. Stronger than anything he’d ever felt. Her simple touch—she’d barely even moved her hand—sent a jolt of pleasure right to his core. But no, this was about showing her what kind of man he was. He yanked her hand off of him, shoved her skirt up around her waist as he’d been fantasizing and then tore at the scrap of lace that covered her sex. Ripping it hadn’t been his intention, but her panties came off in his hands and he scrunched them up and stashed them in his pocket.

Then he brushed his fingers across her mound, slipping into the silky folds between her legs, and found her hot and wet. She moaned at his touch and then looked at him with wide-open, desperate eyes when he removed his hand.

“Travis?” Her voice sounded panicky.

In reply, he put his hands on her hips, lifted her up and pinned her against the wall. Her legs looped around his waist and he drove into her, fast, furious, taking everything he wanted, everything he needed. He thought she was at his mercy, but the way she clung to his back, her nails digging through his thin T-shirt into his skin, turned him on like nothing else. Tomorrow he would have her mark on his skin. Not to mention the fact that they were doing it in an almost public place, something he hadn’t done in years. He didn’t know who he was at the moment, whether it was fucking Billie that was making him crazy or he was fucking her because he’d already gone insane.

But he couldn’t get enough of this. Of her. In that moment nothing else mattered—not Priest’s murder, not his mother, not getting back to Tallahassee. Only Billie. He thrust harder, her core muscles tightened around his cock and they both flew over the edge at the same time.

Afterward, his heart pounding, he held her against him—his hands on her ass, his cock still inside her and her head resting on his shoulder. And he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to talk or think about their differences, think about anything really. He simply wanted to scoop her up into his arms and take her back to her bedroom and do this over and over again.

Then it hit him. Holy fuck. “We didn’t use a condom.”

As he slid out of her and deposited her gently back on the ground, she shrugged and straightened her skirt. “I’m on the pill. And no matter who you say you are, I know you’re not stupid.”

Meaning she knew he didn’t have unsafe sex with just anyone. This truth unsettled him even more. While he’d been fucking her against the wall, he’d never once thought of protecting either of them. What the hell was that about? Maybe he’d underestimated Billie. Maybe she was more of a vixen than he’d given her credit for, because she didn’t seem at all worried about doing it in the open air. In fact, her face almost glowed and her eyes were wild, as if she was ready to go at it again.

Why did he feel like he was the one who’d been taught a lesson?

Chapter 11

“You know I’m not staying,” Travis told Billie. It was hours after they’d left The Priory and they were lying in her bed, legs entwined and his arms wrapped around her in a post-sex haze. They’d made love, then dozed, then made love some more. Just when she’d thought she could never move again, let alone have sex, he’d done something else with his fingers or tongue that had proved her wrong and had her squirming for him again.

“I know,” she whispered back, not meeting his gaze, hoping he didn’t hear the quiver in her voice. However crazy the notion, she felt like she was halfway in love with him and didn’t want to dwell on the moment when he’d inevitably walk out of her life. It was ridiculous to think he’d ever stick around and too much to hope that someone as independent and damaged as he was would ever ask her to go with him back to Tallahassee. And what would she do in such a place anyway? Her gallery, her new life in which she put her own happiness before the convenience of others, was right here in New Orleans and she loved it. “Let’s just make the most of the time you are here.”

“If you’re sure.” He snuck his fingers into her hair and massaged the nape of her neck.

Right now, she wasn’t sure about anything except his touch. And of that she wanted to get as much as he was willing to give. “I am. Although next time you and your brothers are talking, it’d be good if you could discuss your plans for this building, because I feel a little in limbo at the moment. If I’m going to have to move out, I need to start looking for a new space.”

Her chest tightened at the thought. Lord knew how she’d ever find something as suitable or affordable in the French Quarter again, but thinking about her livelihood was easier than thinking about her heart and the mess it would be in when Travis left.

He sighed and put his thumb against her chin, encouraging her head upward so she had to look into his eyes. And they were such beautiful eyes. All dark and stormy and sensual. “Ajax and Blue are focused on other things right now.”

She nodded. “I know, Priest’s murder, but—”

“But—” He cut her off. “I don’t want you to worry. Before I leave I’ll make sure you’re looked after. Once we’ve avenged Priest, they’ll be in a better place and more amenable. We’ll work something out.”

A shiver snuck through Billie’s body at the word avenge. Really, what had she gotten herself into? Her head thought her insane, but her body didn’t give a damn about whatever Travis was involved in as long as he kept going down on her. What kind of person did that make her?

“Thank you,” she whispered, finding that she trusted he would stay true to his word.

“How did you get the gallery started anyhow?” he asked.

“It was a case of pure luck and a lot of determination,” she confessed. “I had some money from my divorce and I met a couple of artists on the street, displaying their work in much the same manner as buskers. At that stage I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew I’d like to stay in New Orleans. I kept thinking about how great it would be to have a place to showcase some of the artists I’d met, and then one day I was walking down Bourbon Street and saw the for lease sign on the gate.”

Travis frowned. “Priest wanted to rent it out?”

Billie shrugged. “I guess. It said to enquire next door at The Priory, so I went and chatted with Sophie, who introduced me to her dad. I remember thinking he was the scariest-looking dude I’d ever seen, but he was lovely to me. He seemed to think it amusing that I wanted to use the building as an art gallery, but then muttered something about it being empty long enough and agreed to lease it to me anyway. I’ve been here just under a year, and it didn’t take me as long as I thought to build up my group of artists.”

Billie expected more questions, but Travis simply nodded, then kissed her again. Although talking with him was easy, the touch of his lips made her forget about the gallery, forget about everything except the taste of him.

She’d thought he’d extricate himself once he’d finished with her for the night, so she was surprised to wake up with the sun peeking through a gap in her curtains and Travis’s arm draped across her chest. Her nipples hardened at the realization, at the delicious feel of his bare arm resting on top of them. She turned her head slowly and smiled at the sight before her, experiencing an intense urge to stroke her fingers across his jawline, to touch the stubble of his beard. Yet he’d wake the moment she did so and although she liked the idea of what might follow when he did, she wanted to record this moment in more than just her memory.

She barely breathed as she slithered out from under his arm with the skill of Houdini and tiptoed across the floor so as not to wake Baxter, who’d been slumbering alongside them. Some guard dog, she thought as she escaped down the corridor with a smile.

Less than a minute later she was back with her sketch pad and box of charcoal. She perched herself on the little dresser stool she’d bought from a local secondhand shop, then opened the pad and retrieved a piece of charcoal. All the while, man and dog remained dead to the world.

For the next half hour, Billie’s fingers were busy filling the paper with the lines and contours of Travis’s amazing body and heart-stopping face. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to quite do him justice, but was still more than happy with her efforts. Lost in the world of her art, she jolted when Travis spoke.

“What are you doing?” His voice sounded gravelly, sexy from sleep, yet she didn’t know if he’d be pleased with her answer. Generally she asked her subjects’ permission before immortalizing them, but she hadn’t been able to help herself.

“Sketching.” She swallowed, her grip tightening on the charcoal. “Drawing you.”

He raised one eyebrow, and for a second her heart halted and the charcoal shook in her fingers. Would he be angry about this? But then he spoke again, and the tone of his voice and expression on his face said he was anything but. “Can I see?”

Now she was filled with a different kind of nerves. She hadn’t drawn anything for anyone else’s eyes in a very long time; hell, she’d barely even drawn at all until this last week. “It’s not very good.” She hugged the sketch pad to her chest, self-conscious about her nakedness and her art.

“Let me be the judge of that.” He pushed up into a sitting position and patted the empty space on the mattress beside him. Her mouth went dry at the sight of all his tattoos and she wondered if she’d ever get over how they made her feel. Was it just his tattoos? Or would any guy covered in ink do it for her? He was the first man she’d ever slept with that had body art.

“Come on,” he whispered encouragingly.

She realized she’d been staring and forced herself up off the stool and over to him. As she sat on the mattress, Travis pulled her over so she was right up next to him. He wrapped one arm around her and put his other hand on her bare knee as she revealed the sketch to him.

“Fuck, that’s good. You are one talented minx, aren’t you?”

She turned her head to look at the expression of awe on his face and a buzz shot through her. He meant it. “It’s just a bit of fun,” she said with a shrug. How could she tell him that he made drawing easy without giving away the fact that she was falling for him? That looking at him and being with him inspired her like nothing had before. Last night she’d lied when she told him she just wanted him for his body, but she didn’t want to scare him away.

“No.” His tone was forceful. “As much as I don’t like the idea of me hanging on the gallery wall next to a bunch of fairy-tale rabbits and dinnerware no less, this is amazing. You’ve included so much detail. And…” He paused a moment, then shrugged. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but it’s like you’ve captured my soul or something instead. Shit, listen to me. What have you done to me?”

Travis chuckled and Billie couldn’t help glowing inside and out.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to display it. This is just for me. I don’t want to share it with anyone.”

“I’m glad.” He kissed her on the lips firmly but quickly. “But promise me something?”

“What?” Her mouth went dry thinking about what he could possibly want. The way she felt right now, she’d say yes to just about anything he asked.

Moving his hand lower so it rested on the small of her naked back, he said, “Do more of this. It’s as good as, if not better than, everything else out there hanging on those walls and you could make some good money from it—a name for yourself.”

She flinched a little at the mention of money, which reminded her of her ex. “Not everything’s about money, Travis.”

“Maybe not.” He didn’t sound like he believed that. “But having money sure helps make life easier. Why not make some from doing something you love? Tell you what—I’ll commission you to draw something for me. You reckon you could do my bike in charcoal?”

“Your motorbike?”

“No, my tricycle.”

She rolled her eyes at his obvious sarcasm and leaned toward him, nudging him with her elbow. “I didn’t think you liked art.”

He dipped his head so his breath tickled her neck as he spoke. “I like your art. I think it’s only fair that you start my collection.”

“Okay then.” She bit her lower lip to stop a massive grin from exploding across her face. Whatever happened between them in the end, at least if she did this, she’d know he’d always have a part of her. Something that reminded him of her every time he looked up at his wall.

“How well do you know Lorna?” he asked, surprising her. She’d wanted to talk to him about this but had never imagined he’d be the one to bring it up.

“Not that well,” she admitted. “I met her a few weeks after I opened the gallery through one of the other artists. We chat when she brings in her paintings, but that’s about the extent of it.” It wasn’t a blatant lie—they’d met outside the gallery only a couple of times. Lorna had been welcoming when they’d first met, had made an effort to make Billie feel at home in the French Quarter.

She waited for Travis to respond, but he was deathly silent. Finally she couldn’t be patient a moment longer. “I’m guessing you were surprised to see her yesterday?”

He snorted loudly at that and looked at her like she was a comedian. “Biggest understatement of the century.”

“You want to tell me why you have such hard feelings against her?”

She didn’t actually expect him to answer, so she was shocked when he stretched back on the bed, sighed and then started talking.

“Mom was a teenager, already abusing drugs and alcohol by the time I came along. I know you know Lorna used to be an addict and I’d be damn surprised if she’s clean now.”

Billie bit her tongue, not jumping to Lorna’s defense, not wanting Travis to know she’d already heard this from his mother.

“I gave her so many chances, tried to believe there was good in her for so many years when I was growing up,” he said. “Even when we didn’t have food on the table because she was high, even when she took me into the houses of drug dealers or men she slept with for a hit, I still wanted to protect her because she was my mom. I fantasized that one day when I was old enough, I’d make her get clean. Do whatever it took to give her and me a better life.”

Billie held her breath, already knowing what was coming.

“Then when I was seventeen, I came home from school to find her sprawled on the couch, a big, ugly man on top of her and her screaming for him to stop.” He sucked in a breath and his features darkened. “He was raping her and hell, she may have been a slut, but that didn’t mean I was going to stand by and let some motherfucker abuse her. I ripped him off her and threw my fist into his face. Until then, I didn’t know that I could even throw a punch like that but instinct and rage, concern for my mom, took over. I beat that man until his face was unrecognizable and Mom begged me to stop. And then she fucking helped him. She tended to him like he was a baby, and I realized then that she would never love me as much as her habit.”

“What happened then?” Billie asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting him to open up completely to her.

Travis swallowed; she saw his Adam’s apple move up and down his throat. “He left, and I vowed never again to defend her. She told me he wouldn’t call the police because of who he was, but she was wrong. He did. They found me and they threw me in jail. I told them my reasons for the attack, but even as I gave them my statement, I knew it wouldn’t matter. I guessed she wouldn’t corroborate my story, and I was right. Yesterday was the first time I’d seen her in fifteen years.”

Oh Travis. She wanted to pull him into her arms and wrap herself around him, but she guessed he would close up if she attempted sympathy. She didn’t know why he’d told her, but she knew it wasn’t because he wanted her to feel sorry for him. Maybe it was because he wanted her to see Lorna for who he thought she really was. Still, whatever the reason, she couldn’t help the happiness that bloomed within her at the fact that he’d opened up.

“And that’s when you met Priest, in prison?”

He shook his head. “I met one of the other Deacons—he was inside for a bar brawl that had put some guy in a coma—and for some reason we clicked. When I got out and didn’t have anywhere to go, he invited me to stay with him. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“What was it like being in a g…I mean club?”

He laughed. “Were you ever in Girl Scouts?”

She hit him with a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look. “You’re not going to tell me your club was all about doing good deeds, singing songs around the campfire and earning badges for cooking and sewing?”

“Well…maybe not exactly, but there are some similarities.”

She couldn’t help laughing. She loved his sense of humor, even if he rarely let it out to play. “You want to explain some of those similarities?”

His forehead crinkled a little as if he was deep in thought, but then he shook his head again. “Nope. I’ve got a much better idea.”

He carefully took the sketch pad and charcoal out of her grasp and laid them on the floor and then turned back to her, pushing her gently down onto the mattress. They were both already naked, so they didn’t need to waste time and got straight down to business instead. Billie appeared to be in a permanent state of arousal around this man, so she was more than ready and willing for all that he had in mind.

–

Travis held Billie tightly, reluctant to let her go after a night of the best fucking of his life.

“What are you going to do today?” she asked, endeavoring to distract him with words as she tried to sneak out of his grip.

He tightened his hold on her and whispered into her ear, “You. Over and over and over again.”

She laughed, a beautiful sound that swam right through him. “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing all night and half the morning?”

“And I still haven’t had enough.” He pressed his lips against the nape of her neck, grinning when she shivered in his arms. His words and the truth behind them surprised him, as he rarely wanted to spend more than one night with a woman. Something about Billie made him want to hold on a little longer—she made him feel as if there really was good in the world. He pushed this worrying thought aside, deciding to make the most of the moment as he licked his way down to her breasts. Man, had anyone ever tasted better?

She moaned, a beautiful sound that he couldn’t get enough of, and he wondered if they’d ever get around to crawling out of bed. He had other things to focus on, but right now he only wanted to focus on her.

“Travis! You need to stop.” Billie giggled as she grabbed hold of his ears and tried to tug him off her.

“Why?” He twirled his tongue around one nipple and then sucked it right into his mouth.

She let out a gasp and thrust her hips up off the bed toward him. The hot vee between her legs pressed against his cock and it hardened instantly. It would be so easy and so good to thrust up inside her.

“Because.” Her voice was more forceful this time and she pushed her hands against his chest. “Because I need to get up and go to work.”

Baxter sprang up from his comatose state on the floor next to the bed and barked.

Billie laughed. “And the pup needs to be let out for a pit stop. If he pees on the floor, I’ll make you clean it up.”

That was almost worth the risk to have Billie writhing beneath or on top of him again, but as he weighed his options she took the chance to make her escape. He groaned as she all but skipped across the room, tugged on some underwear and then covered up with a long, floaty floral skirt and a black fitted top. She threw some bright, chunky beads around her neck.

“What time does the gallery close?” he asked, already fantasizing about that night. Already imagining ridding her of that sweet little outfit and losing himself inside her.

She smiled knowingly as she brushed her fingers through her hair. “I close up early on Mondays, actually.”

“Best news I’ve heard all day.” He stretched out and then linked his hands behind his head.

“But,” she said as she started out of the room, “I told my boss at the tour company I’d fill in for someone who’s sick, so I’ve got a ghost tour on tonight.”

“Dammit. You’re going to stand me up for ghosts?”

She shrugged in the doorway. “Sorry. I can’t afford to turn down paid work at the moment, not with the uncertainty of the gallery and all, but I’m sure you’ll find something to keep yourself occupied.”

As Billie headed down the hallway, Baxter following closely at her heels, Travis rolled over and put the pillow over his head. Yes, he had plenty to keep him occupied, but he’d much rather stay in bed and gather his energies for later.

A few moments later the aroma of coffee lured him out. He headed down the corridor and into the kitchen to find Billie cracking eggs into a bowl. She glanced over and smiled at him. “Want some breakfast?”

He paused a moment, trying to recall a time in his past when he’d ever hung around long enough to have bacon and eggs with a conquest, and came up blank. Breakfast seemed a little cozy; then again, he had worked up quite an appetite overnight. “Sure.”

Billie turned back to focus on whatever she was doing with the eggs and Travis crossed to the whiz-bang coffee machine, trying to ignore the fact that this scenario was alien to him. Just because he was about to share a meal didn’t mean it was serious. And she knew that. He’d been clear. Hadn’t he? The moment he’d finished helping Ajax and Blue he was out of here. No looking back.

“Are you thinking about Priest?”

At Billie’s question, he looked up to find her staring at him. “What?”

Her lips twisted at the edges. “You looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

He sighed and focused on the coffee machine. “Yeah,” he lied. “I’ve also got some of my own business to attend to.”

“It’s lucky you work for yourself, or I guess it’d be harder to stick around here,” she said as she poured the eggs into a pan. It sizzled, and she began stirring the eggs with a wooden spoon.