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“Let me guess, you can’t cook and you’re waiting for something to magically appear?”
He gives me a sheepish smile. “Maybe.”
I sigh. “How many of you are hungry and useless?”
“Four of us—although, Cannon can cook, he just refuses to cook for all of us and only himself. Bastard made himself an omelet this morning and we all had to smell its deliciousness while he scarfed it down.”
I sigh. “I’ll make something for the rest of you then.” I say it mostly so I won’t have to deal with a bunch of hungry guys pestering me.
I flick my hand, ushering him away from the refrigerator and out of my way.
He takes a seat on one of the barstools at the island. So much for me getting to eat my breakfast. My mom and siblings have disappeared Lord knows where, now I’m stuck here with not one arrogant asshole, but apparently a total of four. At least this guy seems funny and nice. Maybe the other two I haven’t met won’t be so bad either.
I pull the eggs out, some spinach, and peppers. Since he mentioned an omelet I decide to make those for the other guys. At least it’s hardier than scrambled eggs—which had been my first thought to make, but I’m sure a bunch of guys this age would be hungry five minutes later. Noah’s way younger than them and eats like a wild beast. I’ve legitimately seen the kid eat an entire box of cereal in a mixing bowl. Who does that?
I set about making the breakfast. I feel Fox’s eyes on me and the silence between us unnerves me.
I clear my throat. “Are you guys going to be living here at the house?”
“Nah, we have a suite near the studio, but your dad picked us up last night and brought us here since it was late and our room isn’t supposed to be ready until this afternoon anyway.”
I finish the first omelet and put it on a plate for Fox.
His mention of the studio reminds me even if they’re not living here I’m not going to be able to escape these guys.
“Something smells good,” a new deep male voice enters the room.
I look over my shoulder and—oh my God what is in the water where these guys came from? The guy is tall with blond hair and built like a football player. Wide shoulders, narrow hips, and abs for days. I know because he wears a pair of loose sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Too low. His arms and torso are covered with dark tattoos.
“Like what you see?” he asks, making a kissy face at me.
I turn red—which with my red hair makes me look like a damn lobster.
“Shut up,” Fox tells him.
I hear a scuff
le behind me but I don’t dare look.
I finish the next omelet and give it to the new guy who’s joined Fox at the bar counter. His eyes linger on me appreciatively—well, they mostly linger on my breasts.
“My eyes are up here, bud.”
“You have nice tits.”
“Oh my God.” I throw my hands in the air.
Fox knocks the guy on the back of the head. “Shut it, Rush. That’s Hayes’s daughter. You can’t look at her like that unless you want to die.”
The new guy, Rush, grumbles something under his breath sounding a lot like, “I’ll look all I want.”
I move on to the next omelet for Hollis.
I’m tempted to spit in it but I’m not that mean.
When it’s finished he still hasn’t joined us. I place a cover over it and leave it on the counter so Fox or Rush can’t eat it if they decide they want seconds.
I heat up my own breakfast and sit down at the table.
