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Now I outright laugh. “No offense, but you sounded like Scuttle, the seagull from The Little Mermaid.”
Gabriel smirks. “I take it he was no great singer.”
“No.”
We reach the resort lobby and head for the buffet.
“I shouldn’t have wasted my talent on you. You are an ungrateful audience.”
“To the contrary, I’m very appreciative. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.”
“I wish I could’ve seen it.” Gabriel breathes down my neck as he holds the breakfast-room door open for me.
My heart skips a beat, and I avoid answering by scooting past him into the room. I need a boatload of sugar in me before I pass out from infatuation.
The buffet is grand, offering all sorts of breakfast foods, fresh juices, and pastries. As we walk up to the self-serve station to fill our plates, I’m hyper-aware of Gabriel’s powerful presence behind me.
At one point, I stop to pile mini croissants on my plate, and he bumps into me. I’m not sure if it’s by accident or on purpose. But he sure takes his time backing away, leaving my back glued to his front for a few excruciatingly long and unbearably short seconds. In fact, for one of those preciously painful instants, he even places a hand on my hip to pull me back into him before he mercilessly releases me to the coldness of no body contact.
“Pardon me,” he says.
I’m blushing so hard I don’t dare to look back. I pile more fatty sugars on my plate and drop out of the buffet line.
Thomas waves at us from a table close to the wall-wide windows with a magnificent view of the mountains behind.
I join him and sit next to him while Gabriel takes the other free chair.
“What did you do with the scumbag?” MGM asks his brother.
“I threw the dog a million-dollar bone,” Thomas proclaims as if he was talking about spare change, which in their family a million dollars probably is. “He should stay out of our way for the rest of the conference.”
I roll my eyes.
“Something the matter, Blakey?” Thomas asks.
“Oh, I get a nickname, too, now?”
“You’re practically part of the family. What gives?”
“The way you talk about a million dollars as if it were coffee money. You’re two entitled, spoiled brats.”
Unfazed, Thomas bats his lashes at me. “But we’re adorable, spoiled brats, aren’t we?”
“You should both go work in a mine for a month.”
“You sound like our mom now.” He turns to Gabriel. “Is that why you like her so much? You have mommy issues?”
“No, I like her because she has great feet.” He gives me a cheeky grin, and I blush.
Thomas frowns, staring at us. “You’re not really talking about feet, right?”
“Nope.” Gabriel smirks and takes a ridiculously large forkful of pancakes.
Thomas shakes his head and turns to me. “Look what you did to the cruel, power-training prince of Manhattan. You’ve turned him into a fluffy golden retriever.”
“Hey,” Gabriel protests. “I’m a cat person. Worst I can do is purr.”
The friendly banter proceeds throughout the rest of breakfast until, fed and caffeinated, it’s time to reach our respective assigned meeting points and rendezvous with our partners for the scavenger hunt.
