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And Danny stands on the other side of Malcom, dressed in a navy sweater with a collar sticking out the top and tan khaki pants. A fatherly smile is on his face like normal, but in his hand is a bottle of whiskey, from downstairs most likely.
Danny holds it up. “Sorry we’re late.”
I blink, then furrow my brow, confused. “What? Late?”
But before I can try to understand, I feel the warmth of Mia’s body beside me as she comes up with a cheerful voice, taking the whiskey from Danny. “So glad you guys could make it. Thank you so much for doing this. I only just started cooking, but you can make yourselves at home.”
“Great!” Travis says, slapping my shoulder as he moves past me to enter the house as if he owns it, the other two following, leaving me with a dumbfounded look at Mia.
Looking nervous, she explains, “It was supposed to be a surprise.”
I raise my brows. “It was definitely that.”
“I just know that you guys don’t get to hang out outside of work. We are all close, and I thought it would be a good idea if I were to make my special lasagne for you guys. Maybe have a game night.”
I blink again. “What brought this on?”
She shrugs. “I never got this with my family. My friends and I usually do movie nights, which is great, but I wanted to do something to say thank you to everyone. To you for taking me in and giving me these opportunities, for the boys for treating me so well and being patient, and to Danny for giving me a job despite the times I’ve screwed up.”
“We’ve all screwed up.”
She rolls her eyes. “The point is that I want to say thank you, so I invited them over for dinner and maybe games. We can see how it goes.”
She shrugs, tucking one of her hands in the pocket of her jean shorts, while the other dangles by her side with the bottle of whiskey still in her grip.
Seeing that she needs this and feeling touched by the gesture, I let out a resigned breath. “Let me take that.” I take the bottle from her hands. “Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?”
She smiles, shaking her head. “Nah, you go entertain.”
With a nod of her head to the boys gathered in the living room, she leaves me in the entryway and hops to the kitchen with a little extra sway in her hips. I honestly don’t know how long I’m gonna hold out with this girl.
CHAPTER 28
MIA
Igroan, holding the lasagne in my hands, trying to steady the heavy weight and praying to the gods that it does not fall or I will crumble into nothing on the floor with it in defeat. It's been a while since I made this lasagne but once I got started, it was just like riding a bike.
The boys were sitting at the round dining table with a pack of playing cards and cash in the middle. I almost got used to the chorus of groans and cheered pouring from them as I carefully placed the lasagne in the oven.
I let out a breath of relief and rise from my crouch, dusting my hands on my jean shorts, wishing I had worn sweats because I was already getting sauce on my clothes. Oh well, what can you do?
“Mia?” I hear when I close the oven door and turn in surprise to see a nervous Malcom standing in the kitchen, and I smile.
“Hey, Malcom, what’s up?”
He rubs the back of his neck, asking, “I was just wondering if you need any help?”
“You’re not having fun with the guys?”
He shrugs. “I can’t afford to lose any more money.”
He almost looks guilty and a part of me feels so sorry for him as I look around the kitchen. “I’m not sure, the lasagne’s already done.”
His eyes light up suddenly. “Well, if you have the stuff for spaghetti, I could whip that up. My family loves my spaghetti, and we could make this into an Italian feast or something.” I consider and he continues. “You haven’t seen these guys eat. I’m not sure one lasagne will be enough.”
Seeing his desperation, I sigh, knowing we have the stuff for spaghetti around here, and say, “Alright, come join me.”
He starts to beam happily and rolls his shirt sleeves up, getting to work, and he wasn’t kidding. He really can cook. He stirs the sauce and starts to add an array of herbs and seasoning, tasting it intermittently with various reactions.
