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“No need to fuss,” he assured me. “Tate’s been doing that all morning because River and Reese refused to leave me without a babysitter while they ran errands.”
“They’re worried. Let them mother you for a bit,” I told him. Hell, from here I could see Reese keeping an eye on us from over by the buffet where he was talking to Greer and Sloan.
“You’re horrible at accepting care.” Tate frowned at him.
“After this morning, I’m inclined to agree,” Franklin said.
“Noted, new guy.” Shay patted Franklin on the arm and withdrew from me. “I’mma go say hey to Kit.”
I bit at a cuticle and watched him walk away into the crowd. Then I turned back to Tate. “What happened this morning?”
“River and Reese dropped him off at our place,” he answered. “We hung out a bit, had some breakfast—Franklin was there too. He’s just…kinda shut off. But he’s definitely not feeling well.”
Yeah, no doubt.
“Do you know where they’re staying?” I had to ask. Because it couldn’t be in Mclean.
All founding members had their own private cabins on the property, but every time they stepped outside, they’d see the back of the main house. The pool area, the patio, the house… Whatever was left of it. And the smell. God.
Problem was, whereas Greer and the other Founders used their cabins as a kinky home away from home, the cabin River and Reese now shared with Shay was their permanent home. They lived there.
“Shay wanted to be close to his brothers, so they spent at least one night there,” Tate answered.
Oh right. If I remembered correctly, Shay’s younger brothers lived with their aunt here in the city.
“Corey!”
I looked over my shoulder and saw Sloan waving me over.
“I gotta go,” I said. “We’ll catch up more later?”
“Uh-huh… I’m gonna need details on this little thing.” Tate gestured between me and Sloan. “You’re dressing up for someone.”
“Am not,” I mumbled stubbornly.
“And it’s not Marcus,” Tate added with a smirk.
“Oh, shut it.” I swatted his arm and made my escape to the sound of his chuckles.
I hurried over to Sloan and felt such a big wantyness explode inside me. There was something about that man. How he mixed the teacher prep style with rocker wear, how he came off as equal parts strong and vulnerable, his kindness, the effect he had on me every time he switched on observation mode, and how expressive his eyes were. He had a way about him; he could showcase affection and concern and soft amusement with a single look. Like right now.
“We’re about to sit down, sweetheart. I thought we could bring some food to the table before everyone lines up.” He handed me a plate, and I looked out over the terrace, eventually finding Greer and Archie at the end of one table.
They seemed to be sharing a quiet moment together. Forehead to forehead, Archie murmuring stuff to Greer.
“Is Master Greer okay, Sir?” I asked, worried.
“He’s getting there. It’s been a lot this weekend.”
Understatement of the year.
“We have to take care of him when we get back to the house,” I said decidedly. “I can do some of his chores, and I bet Archie can give him a back rub.” After grabbing a couple cheesy rolls from a bowl, I glanced up at Sloan. “I can give you a back rub too, if you want! I’ve learned how to from YouTube.”
He exhaled a curse through a hopeless little laugh and shook his head. “You don’t know how difficult it is to hold back with you, Corey.”
I turned back to the buffet and grinned so hard that it hurt my cheeks. He was attracted to me. He wanted to play with me.
Was Archie right? Could I seduce Sloan?
“Holding back is lame.” I eyed the spread Macklin had prepared for us and started loading my plate. No fries today, but lots of other stuff. Mini sandwiches, fruit, muffins, individually wrapped paninis. Containers on hot plates were filled with eggs, bacon, grilled tomato halves—and chicken! I dove for that dish and picked four pieces of chicken that looked to have perfectly crispy skin.
Sloan and I made two rounds, to get food to Greer and Archie too, and I created a mountain on Greer’s plate, which made him do a double take when we returned.
“Jesus Christ, boy. How much do you think I eat?”
I set the plate in front of him before I made my way around to sit down across from him. “You need food, Sir.”
“Right, but I haven’t eaten this much since I was in high school,” he chuckled. “At my age, it goes straight to the gut.”
“But isn’t that super hot?” I exclaimed. “I’m not kidding. Like a pinch of a muffin top.”
“What the hell is a muffin top?” Archie asked.
“Li’l ab cushion that spills over the pants,” I replied frankly, and I dug into my food. “I think that’s sexy.”
