Page 51 of Sent To A Fantasy World and Now All the Men Want Me 7

“And what do you believe, Captain? What do you see?”

“A male who yearns for him just as deeply as the rest of us,” Maddox answered, losing his ire from earlier. “While I may still have my doubts in regard to your true intentions, I trust that you want what’s best for him.”

“What’s best for him might not be what he’s willing to accept,” Onyx responded. “He calls you and I stubborn yet fails to see that he also possesses that same stubbornness.”

Maddox surprised me by laughing under his breath. “A thing you and I can agree on. When Evan sets his mind on something, there’s no swaying him otherwise.”

“His pursuit of me being one example,” Onyx added in a lighter tone.

Were they… bonding? Trust was slowly forming between my men and Onyx. While they still had a long way to go, things were getting better day by day.

Not wanting to push my luck by hanging around longer and risk getting caught eavesdropping, I decided it was best to just slowly creep away and pretend I hadn’t heard anything.

Or… that had been the plan anyway.

I turned and only got three steps away from the door before my foot got tangled in the bottom of the sheet, and I tripped, crashing to the floor like I really was a sack of potatoes.

Shit.

The door swung open instantly—much to my horror. I hadn’t had time to cover up first. When I’d fallen, the sheet had twisted away from my lower half, leaving my ass exposed and in the air. Exposed… and the first thing that greeted the two males that rushed into the room.

Just kill me now.

Chapter Ten

A Farewell to Spies and Pecs

“Tell me again,” Callum said, his voice shaking with the laugh he was trying to suppress. And failing miserably at. “My memory isn’t quite what it used to be. I need to hear the story from the very beginning, no detail left out.”

I glared at him. “Maddox and Onyx saw my butt, okay? So funny. Now, can we please move on? I’m trying to cook dinner.”

Callum laughed so hard he had to lean against the counter for support.

“Wasn’t anything I haven’t seen before,” Maddox stated in that serious way of his. However, I caught the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Are your knees all right, love?” Briar asked, nearing me at the stove. The only one of my men more concerned than amused. “I hear you hit quite hard when you fell. A salve will ease any aches and help the bruising.”

“My knees are fine.” I sighed as I checked on the grits cooking in the pot. “It’s my pride that’s wounded, Doc. If you have a salve that can help with that, let me know.”

“You can always drink more ale,” Callum suggested. “That’ll make you forget all about your wounded pride. For a time, at least.”

I scoffed. “Only to be even more mortified once I sober up? No thanks. I’m never drinking another drop for as long as I live.”

“Such a shame,” a raspy voice said from the doorway as Rowan strode into the kitchen. Draven and Reign trailed in behind him. “I’d love to see that dance of yours again. What’d ya call it… a twerk?”

Callum laughed again, this one veering on a boyish giggle. I shot him a look, but he was honestly so freaking adorable I had trouble keeping a stern face. A cinnamon roll through and through… even when he was teasing me.

“The drunken chicken dance,” Duke said from the table where he and Lake were engaged in a game of chess. “Not easily forgotten. I’ll remember the flapping ’til my dying day.”

Quincy choked on a bite of cheese and crackers—the snack I’d given him while I cooked dinner, so he’d stop stealing food off the stove. Baden, who sat beside Duke, quietly coughed into his closed fist.

“That’s it.” I flipped around to the kitchen full of men, hands flying to my hips. “The next person who makes fun of me won’t be getting any of the cookies I made for dessert.”

Rowan’s lips slanted, showing my favorite tooth. “I reckon it’s a good thing I don’t care for sweets.”

“Don’t think that means you’re immune, mister.” I wagged a finger at him… which he tried to bite. “Keep it up, and I’ll withhold all the yummy things you love. Buttery biscuits. Croissants. All of it. Poof. Gone. No more for you.”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your britches in a wad.” Rowan held up his hands. “I yield.”