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“Mmm.” The noise she made brought both of their heads up from what they were doing.
Piers was manning the stove, frying bacon and turning the strips with a pair of tongs. Ash stood at the counter, slicing bread in thick chunks off a hard loaf.
Oh god. If they were hunks in high school, now they were gorgeous older versions of those days gone by. Piers’s rugged features were only enhanced by age. Ash sporting a thin thread or two of silver in his dark hair awakened her in new ways.
Their biceps bulged with the simple actions of preparing food.
“Tell me you guys have worked on your cooking skills since our teen years.”
They chuckled at her words.
“Lunch is nothing fancy, but we promise it won’t kill you.” Piers flipped another length of bacon.
Sylvee giggled. “I seem to remember some undercooked chicken on the grill one summer.”
Ash groaned. “We were sick for days. Guess we didn’t impress you then, but our skills have improved.”
She curled her hand over her stomach at the memory of the pain she’d endured. “I hope so. What’s on the menu? BLTs?”
“Yup.” Piers laid some cooked strips on a plate with paper toweling. “No tomatoes but we have lettuce and cheese.”
Her stomach gave an audible rumble at his words. “You know how much I love cheese.” She looked between them. “Can I do anything?”
“Yes. You can sit down and let us take care of you.” Piers’s statement caught her by surprise.
She blinked at him.
“Oh, honey. Nobody’s taken care of you in years, have they?”
Emotions reared up inside her. Things she never expected to feel brought the taste of salty tears to her tongue.
Ash dropped the knife he was using to slice bread and crossed the space to her. He took her by the shoulders and led her to the small table. “We’ve seen it before.” He guided her to sit.
“What have you seen?”
Piers abandoned his post at the stove and grabbed a bottle of wine off the rack. “This calls for a drink.”
Confused, she looked between the men. “What’s going on?”
Piers grabbed a wine opener and popped the cork while Ash located some glasses. The rich red wine in all three glasses caught the light streaming through the kitchen window.
Ash brought her a glass and placed it in her hand. “Sip slowly, Peachy. We can’t have you inebriated. We only want to loosen you up a little.”
“Loosen me up for what?” She brought the glass to her nose and inhaled the bouquet. She never was a wine connoisseur, but she knew what she liked and didn’t. Before she even sipped, she knew this particular wine was to her taste.
The guys went about fixing the sandwiches, their statements going unexplained.
“Are either of you going to tell me what you mean by the things you said just now?” She sipped the wine. As she’d guessed, it was delicious and slid smoothly down her throat. One sip and she knew why Piers told her to drink slowly, especially on an empty stomach.
He finished placing bacon on the plate and switched off the burner. “We don’t mention things like this to the women we work with. But you’re different, Sylvee.”
His use of her name rather than baby, honey or her nickname made her ears prick up, and she tuned into what he was saying.
“A lot of women come here tired of life. Beaten down by it. Their souls are tired. One thing we figured out early on was how little they’re cared for. They spend years working, raising families, waiting on husbands and boyfriends who don’t return the favor. When was the last time anybody brought you a plate of food?”
“Brought you a glass of wine?” Ash added.
“Or gave you an orgasm without taking one for himself?” Piers’s stare landed on hers, pinning her with its intensity.
