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“I need to head over to the gym in a bit. Gotta sort out the staff rota,” I reply, avoiding his question and picking up the bowl of cherries, placing them in the fridge.
“Well, you’re going to need to swing by our place first,” Dalton says, lowering his voice and casting his gaze to the door. “Dad’s got a job for you.”
“Yeah?” I roll my head, feeling the weight of that remark sit on my shoulders. “What does your dad need me for this time?”
“What do any of our dad’s need you for?” Dalton throws back. “We all know I bring brains, beauty and talent to the table. You’re the muscle.”
“Correction, we all know that Sterling has the talent and beauty, and Benedict, the brains,” I remark, knowing it will piss him off, because whilst Dalton is a charmer with the kind of classic good looks that are better suited to black and white movies of old, Sterling is by far the best looking and most talented of the four of us, and Benedict the smartest with his genius level IQ.
“Fuck you, there’s no accounting for taste.”
I scoff. “I think your brain has been well and truly addled by all the fucking you’ve been doing lately.”
“It’s just my way of relieving the tension,” he retorts with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I can think of better ways.”
“Better ways than fucking? You really have been sleeping with the wrong kind of woman. If I’d known you were having below par sex, I’d have hooked you up.”
“What you do ain’t healthy. You’ve got an addiction, Dalton.”
“Addiction?” he scoffs. “I have a healthy appetite for beautiful women and multiple orgasms.”
“If you say so.”
“Look, you know how it is. My dad is constantly on my arse about finding a wife and carrying on the Gunn family name. He’s fucking obsessed. May as well try out all the goods on offer before I finally have to choose the lucky lady to impregnate, right?”
“Lucky lady?” I laugh. “I feel sorry for whoever you set your sights on.”
“Me too,” Daisy scoffs
We both turn our attention to Daisy, flour still clinging to her hair as she heads towards the kettle, switching it on.
“Are you offering yourself up for the role?” Dalton says, deflecting like he always does when a touchy subject comes up.
“I’d rather eat horse shit,” she replies deadpan.
“I thought unicorn shit was more your style?” he asks, his voice as cool and clear as ice water, a little of his father shining through. His dad, Carl, is about as warm as a frozen lake, and just as fucking dangerous.
“There’s no way in hell I’d let you anywhere near my sister,” I add, just in case he was considering chasing her, because that is never going to happen. I can tolerate a lot of things, but Dalton messing about with my sister’s feelings isn’t one of them.
“Don’t worry, Drix, she’s not my type,” Dalton drawls, and I can’t help but notice the way Daisy’s eyes flash with something that looks an awful lot like hurt. She covers it quickly though.
“I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth. I’m not that desperate.”
Dalton laughs. “I prefer my women with at least some experience under their belt. Virgins really aren’t my thing.”
I open my mouth, about to tell him to shut the fuck up, but Daisy cuts me off.
“And I prefer my men with depth, not some vacuous, forty-something, self-centred, egotistical arsehole who lets his dick rule his actions. You might want to get yourself tested, pretty sure I can smell the rot setting in from all the way over here.”
Dalton looks at her wide-eyed, bristling. He turns to me, and I just shrug my shoulders. It’s not like he didn’t ask for it.
“I’m thirty-two,” he protests, choosing to hone in on her jibe about his age over the others. Vanity should be his middle name.
“Tell that to your greying hair and the lines around your eyes,” she retorts cattily. “Either way, isn’t it about time you grew the hell up and stopped acting like a selfish prick with no concern for anyone but himself?!”
“And here I was thinking I’d have to punch you for being such a dickhead towards my sister. Looks like her verbal lashing is just as harsh as any punch to the gut I could throw at you,” I observe, pride filling my chest. Daisy might be the nicest person I know, but she’s no wallflower.
