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"Nightingale, you like sweets, yes?" I nod warily; he's entirely too excited. "Hop up here and keep me company while I prepare the dessert?" I can't deny his pleading look and cross the room to boost myself up on the counter where he'd indicated.
I watch for a few minutes as he pulls ingredients and supplies out and soon figure out what he's making. "Baklava?"
"Yes, I thought Braeden would like it." His features go pensive. "That's okay, I hope? I rarely hear an accent from him and never any Greek. But Marcus doesn't have one either so…" He trails off, waiting for my input.
"Brade loves the stuff. His grandmother used to make it for him, and I occasionally do. He actually taught me how. He was my rock when I lost my parents, well, we both did, but he was the adult for me for a while. With his job, he doesn't indulge often. And he doesn't have much of an accent to hide. He lived with his parents in the midwest before they went on vacation in middle school, and his dad died in a scuba diving accident off the coast of Greece. Then his mom couldn't deal, and she checked out permanently on him. He didn't have any other family besides his grandparents, so they were able to keep him.
Apollo never interrupted, but I was a bit embarrassed over how easily I'd just spilled about me and Brade. "Sorry, I got off topic I think. Do you want help putting it together? I can make the sauce if you want?"
"Of course you can assist. Let me get you an apron." Apollo gets us both one, and I laugh at the sayings on them.
It says, "The last time I cooked hardly anyone got sick" while Apollo's has "Your opinion wasn't in the recipe". Since I'm swimming in mine, I wonder if it was bought for Marcus. I could definitely see the two of them with their guard down cooking together. I know I have to be sporting a goofy-ass grin, but the scenario is just too cute.
Apollo catches it but doesn't comment on it. Instead, he has me start chopping the nuts while he layers the phyllo dough sheets.
Soon enough, the filled pan is going in the oven, and I'm adding the ingredients he measures for me into the saucepan. We work in such a comfortable tandem that I don't realize for a bit that we have an audience. I'm clued in when I hear whispers about what we're making.
"You all gonna stand there watching or put your dishes in the dishwasher?" I let them know they're busted, and they all rush to rinse their plates and silverware and stick them in the appliance.
The sauce done, I slide it to the back of the stovetop to let it stop bubbling while the rest finishes cooking in the oven. When I turn, the guys are all there, and Emmett immediately zeroes in on my apron, as does Braeden who sniggers at it.
"Wildcat, you sure that's going to be safe to eat? I'm not getting a good feeling from that warning." Emmett is teasing, but Marcus narrows his eyes at him, and now I'm certain it's his.
"Nah, Birdie knows how to cook. Not sure I can say the same for the person who picked it out though." I think Marcus had been about to address that I was wearing his apron, but at Braeden's comment, he snaps his mouth shut.
Smiling slyly at him and getting in on the teasing, I address him. "You wouldn't happen to know who this belongs to, now would you, Marcus? You did set the house up after all." My stomach drops as I realize my mistake, and my eyes involuntarily dart to Brent.
Thankfully, Apollo comes to my rescue even though I still feel like an idiot that shouldn't be trusted. "No, I bought it off a friend. We found the aprons in a grocery store on the way here the other day." I smile gratefully at Apollo, turned where the others can't see, and mouth, "I'm sorry" to him. The timer beeps on the oven and takes the attention off me, redirecting it to the confection in the oven.
As soon as it's out and the sauce is spooned over it, Apollo and I both hang our aprons on a pantry hook and dish everyone up. By the time we're all finished and everything is cleaned up, I'm worn out.
I feel a bit odd though with everyone in the room. Any time before that we've been grouped together before was during captivity and for sex— and that definitely wasn't the case now. The thought brings on equal parts arousal and dread until the little ticking time bomb pops in my head, and I hightail it out of the room with a wave and dash up the stairs.
I pretend to be asleep when Brade pokes his head in to check on me. I knew he wouldn't have let it go that I was going to say something earlier, and now I've lost my courage and chickened out.
I sleep in late the next morning, and when I get up, I find a plate left for me in the microwave with breakfast on it. While I ate, Braeden came in and let me know that he was going for a jog with Rex, Emmett, and Marcus while Apollo and Brent did something in his office. It left me to my own devices, and I wandered around until I stopped at the bookshelf in the den and found all kinds of reading material.
Randomly picking something that looked good, I sat down on the big sectional couch in the corner of the room where I found a throw blanket to cover my legs. Before I knew it, I'd made it almost all the way through the book, and it was dinner time again. Apparently, the guys had decided to leave me alone for the day which I kind of appreciated but also felt a bit at odds with.
Everyone was polite at dinner, but it was just that— politeness. Something felt off, but I didn't know what it was, and I went to bed still trying to figure it out. Braeden did pop in again to check on me, but I was actually almost asleep that time and didn't have the energy to move.
The next day was much the same, except the guys kept being right there anytime I would move around the house. Brent was noticeably absent for most of it though. When I asked about it at dinner, he just said that he'd been working on something for Apollo in his office but didn't expound on it.
Day three rolled around, and I was starting to get cranky. Yes, I might like my space, but they were flat-out ignoring me now. I didn't want to say anything and act like a diva, but I really didn't have anything to do while they all seemed to be staying busy with one purpose or another. I still hadn't found a good time to tell Braeden, and the secret was beginning to eat at me.
