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Her heart felt full to bursting. Parker laid his grin on hers, and then he sighed. “Exactly. We’ve made sexual magic in the bedroom. Let’s go make gastronomic magic in the kitchen.”
“As long as one of you gives me one of your tee shirts to wear.” Clearly, her guys had an image in their minds of things they’d like to do with her that they’ve never done before. She was all for that and had a few ideas of her own.
They got out of bed, and Parker tossed her his tee shirt, the one he’d taken off earlier. She snagged it mid-air and made quick work of putting it on. It came down to mid thigh on her and was like a sexy mini-dress. Very sexy, since she didn’t bother to put any panties on beneath it.
Dale patted her on the ass lightly and treated her to a mock leer. She laughed and realized she hadn’t felt this good, ever. The guys just threw on their jeans, also going commando. They all three headed for the stairs.
“We didn’t check the cupboards, fridge, or freezer,” Parker said. “But I have a feeling if the families were able to outfit us with house, furnishings, the whole nine yards, they wouldn’t have skipped the vittles.”
“I think you’re probably right.” Jenny entered the kitchen and opened the fridge. “There’s a whole chicken in here!”
“Not alive, I hope,” Dale said.
Jenny giggled. “No. Good thing, too, because I have never butchered, nor have I plucked, my own supper.”
“We have,” Parker said. “So, we could do it if we had to because that was part of our education, growing up on the ranch. We didn’t only have cattle. We had chickens, a few hogs, and we grew our own food for the animals, too.”
“I can pick food out at the supermarket. Somehow, I don’t think that’s as impressive a skill as what y’all can boast.”
“Well, if you feel like you’ve missed out, sweetheart, we would be happy to teach you everything we know.” And then Dale raised his eyebrows twice in rapid succession, that mock leer of his making the look complete.
“We can revisit that offer.” Jenny had a hard time keeping her laughter light.
“So, decision time: whole bird roasted? Or do we want dissected and mutilated bird parts, fried?”
“Whole bird, roasted,” Jenny said. “We can toss some veggies into a casserole dish with butter and a few herbs, and they should both be done in about the same time.”
They worked together well. While she scrubbed and peeled, Parker rinsed and poked and rubbed butter and salt into the bird.
Dale found the makings for a green salad and set to work on that. Then it was time to simply wait for supper to cook.
A bottle of Chablis had been chilling in the fridge, so Parker opened it, Dale brought over wine glasses, and they made themselves comfortable at the kitchen table.
They talked of inconsequential things. Movies and music, weather and the day’s headlines. They never wanted for conversation, and often, like this time, there would be long stretches of silence interspersed. It felt companionable, and right.
“I almost can’t believe that we’re here.” Jenny looked down at her glass then up at her two lovers.
I have two lovers, and I’m falling in love with them. Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t have given herself or taken them if she wasn’t already in love with them. She had no idea where this love would lead, but she looked forward to finding out.
“Personally, I’m happy as hell about our current circumstances. But”—Parker exhaled heavily then put his hand over hers—“we all three were more or less just pushed to this point by, well, by practically everyone we know here. How do you feel, really? This is a huge step. I know you’ve never lived with a man before either, let alone two. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“What about you? Neither of you have lived with a woman before. So it’s not just me who’s going to be adjusting.”
“Yeah, but we’re men. Y-chromosome-laden, knuckle-dragging men.” Dale grinned at her as she laughed.
“And because we’re men, and our testosterone keeps us on the physical side of things more heavily than on the emotional or intellectual side, we’re happy as hell.”
