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Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Yeah?” I open the door rather unceremoniously to a prancing Frankie.
“Hey. Are you done?” She crosses her legs. “I really need to go, and I didn’t want to wake up Gabriel. We’re supposed to be sleeping in.”
“It’s all yours.” I let her in and step out.
“Oh my god, thank you.”
The door shuts, and I hear her sigh seconds later.
Her relief makes me giggle. Finding a free bathroom with this many people can be tricky. All of the adult rooms have an ensuite bathroom, but with two people in each room, morning bathroom habits usually have us needing the bathroom at the same time. Finding an open hall bathroom can be challenging, especially if the older kids are awake. All the boys are potty trained, but when they need to go, theyneedto go.
Warm arms wrap around me the second I enter our room. “Kitten. I’m glad you’re back.”
“I didn’t want to use our bathroom and wake you.” I grab his hands wrapped around me, ensuring they don’t drop lower and graze my pocket.
He kisses my neck. “You don’t have to sneak around. I like waking up together.”
I know. And I love that about him. He’s not grumpy when he’s woken up—that’s me.
“But now that we’re up, I’m starving.” He releases me to throw on a t-shirt and sweatpants.
“I was thinking I’d make German apple pancakes.”
His eyes widen before a dimpled smile takes over. “Please.”
“Would you help cut up the apples?”
“Done.” He graces me with a quick peck to the lips. “I’ll make coffee while you get dressed.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be right there.”
* * *
Besides sex, there’s not much I enjoy more than watching Reese in the kitchen. She’s free in a way she’s not anyplace else. Cher is the same. I’ve never thought that about Gabriel, though he’s a great cook too.
The German apple pancakes look amazing when we pull them out of the ovens. She made four, each in sixteen-inch cast iron skillets the size of pizzas, with brown crusty edges and caramelized apples fanning out in circles from the center. She squeezes fresh lemon juice across the tops before following it with powdered sugar. They look and smell fantastic.
“Have you ever considered opening a restaurant?” I’m half joking but kinda serious. Cher has her bakery, but they could expand into the store next to it or find another location. All three of them are exceptional cooks. I’ve never had a bad meal from any Stone. I’m not a picky eater, but I know good food when I see and taste it. I’ve no doubt they’d be successful.
Reese’s blues meet mine before skipping across the room to Cher—who just smiles—and then land on her brother, walking in the room. “I’d consider it if Gabriel and Mom would do it with me.”
Cap and I lock gazes. He likes the idea. The restaurant business can be difficult, but there are a lot of mom-and-pop-type places that make a good living. We’re in Vegas. I’ve no doubt they’d succeed with Cap’s connections, Gabriel’s fame and their kitchen skills.
“Consider what?” Gabriel heads to the coffee pot. “Morning, by the way.” He hands the first cup to Frankie, who shuffles in behind him.
“I was suggesting Reese open up a restaurant with you and Cher.” I hand Frankie the creamer from the fridge.
“Thanks.” Her smile is slight but genuine. She looks happy and sleepy. For that matter, so does Gabriel.
“Food’s ready if y’all want to help get everything to the table.” Reese hands me the egg casserole—one of my all-time faves. I carry it and help corral the kids not already at the table waiting somewhat patiently for breakfast.
Once we’re seated and the kids have food, eating contently but not too quietly, we dish up the food for the adults.
“You outdid yourself, Kitten. It all looks delicious.”
“Thanks. I didn’t do it alone. You helped, and Gabriel made the egg casserole last night.”
