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The ‘thing’ being his father killing his mother and two siblings, while also attempting to kill the rest of them, too.
“Mal was always a dick head, he just put on a good show for you,” Callum mumbled as he reached for the coffeepot that was on the counter behind him.
I started cracking eggs and measuring out ingredients.
When the skillet was hot enough, and the mix was thoroughly stirred, I started the tedious process of making pancakes.
When four were done, I started whipping up scrambled eggs and popping toast in the toaster.
By the time sixteen pancakes were done, I had the scrambled eggs almost finished, the bacon cooling on a paper towel, and ten pieces of toast buttered.
“All right,” I said as I made Callum a plate and took it over to him. “Food’s done.”
He looked at me with a sparkle in his eye.
“Thanks, honey,” he rumbled.
I licked my lips and smiled at him.
“You’re welcome.”
“You’re not eating?” I heard asked.
I turned to find Darby staring at me.
“I’m on a diet,” I said. “Bacon and pancakes aren’t part of that diet.”
He frowned. “Why are you on a diet?”
I looked at the young man and found myself breaking out into a grin.
I liked him.
“I want to run that Spartan race that is scheduled in about two months. Mal runs it every year, and he always let me know when I expressed interest in running it with him that I couldn’t handle it. I want to prove to myself that I can.” I paused. “And to do that, I need to get into a little better shape than I am.”
He frowned. “It’d be a shame to lose those curves.”
I grinned and turned to Callum.
“Your brother’s a charmer,” I said to my man.
Callum rolled his eyes. “Not something we all haven’t thought, honey. Curves are sexy.”
I found myself flushing.
“Bacon and eggs are okay for you,” Colt said. “Pancakes? Probably not. But eggs are definitely okay.”
I appeased everyone in the room by getting eggs and a piece of bacon.
When I sat down, all of the men were silently shoveling food into their faces while periodically making groaning noises.
I smiled and ate my eggs.
“If you want to come up here and cook us all breakfast,” Ace said, breaking the silence. “You can stay at the cabin for free. And you don’t even have to buy the food. We’ll buy it. You just cook it.”
I thought about that for a long second, then shrugged. “I don’t mind that. For everyone? Or just the brothers.”
“Everyone,” Banks muttered around a bite of pancake. “We have all of us that are here, and about four other men that work here with us from Ace’s old team, and our old foster house. None of us know how to cook.”
“Codie knows how to cook,” I told them all.
“Codie knows how to cook,” Ace agreed. “But not like this, and she can’t cook for a goddamn army. Plus, with her starting her new job soon, it’s not like she’s going to have the time to come in here and cook for us every day.”
“I can cook before I leave for the store,” I finally agreed. “But I don’t need to stay at the cabin for free. I have enough money to—”
“This is more than enough,” Callum interrupted. “We were about to hire a cook to do this anyway. The one we talked to wanted to charge us extra since it was more than eight hours a day. Plus, with us needing her on Saturdays, too, it would’ve been even more. So yes, we need you more than you need us.”
“Well,” I said. “In that case, I’ll cover whatever meals that she doesn’t. I also don’t have a set number of hours that I need to do. If you don’t mind me baking here every once in a while, I’ll be more than willing to help out.”
“Deal!” Darby sang. “Can you make this every Saturday?”
We all started to laugh.
***
Eight hours later, there was no laughing in sight.
“There was no way that this was as cheap as he said it was,” I found myself saying to Callum.
“No,” he agreed. “More likely, it was about twice the amount.”
My thoughts exactly.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “This place is to die for. And there are top-of-the-line appliances in the kitchen. A sub-zero fridge. Fuck, there’s even a perfect workspace for me to make my cakes. And there’s this display case up here. He put everything into action for me.”
“Was selling your bakery items something you wanted to do?” Callum asked, gathering me into his arms.
I went willingly, surprised that the feel of his arms around me was so comforting.
It’d felt like I was meant to be there, like it was coming home.
“Sort of,” I admitted. “In the beginning, when I told Malloy of my dream of opening up a bakery like this, it was. Now? I don’t really have time to run the bakery part of it. I could do the baking, and I could do the cakes, but I don’t have the time or desire to stand up here and dispense the goods.”
