AllFreeNovel
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He steals the chair next to mine at the head of the table. “Mother’s recipe.”
“But she…”
“Is a contender for shittiest parent in the pack?” Bishop sits across from me, steepling fingers over his soup.
Jin’s mom abandoned him when Kairo offered her a check, trying to hide his affair from his actual mated wife. She left her son and her job in The Barrington’s kitchen with all the cash and no regrets.
Her name lives at the top of my shit list.
“She left recipes.” Jin shrugs. “Not much else.”
Boxing Reese out, Dutch drops beside me, pressing me with his thigh and spooning chicken from his bowl to mine. “Eat more.”
“Hell of a depressing contest.” Holding a plate of bread, Reese takes the open seat beside Bish.
He butters the thickest bread slice, then sets it beside my bowl.
I curl my toes in my sneakers, weirdly satisfied by his gesture. Hold steady. “So, are we expecting backup or not?”
“We are.” Jin looks away. “After we settle terms.”
I frown. “What terms?”
Ignoring the roll of paper towels, Bishop elegantly spreads a cloth napkin over his lap. “There’s debate over how much we’ll owe for their assistance.”
“If they’re that expensive—”
“Not in dollars. Years.” Reese passes me another buttered slice.
“What does that mean?” The guys who love staring holes through my esophagus suddenly won’t meet my gaze. My neck crawls, but not with rejection.
It creeps with a weird, unsettling fear.
They agreed to something stupid to save the wrong girl.
Not happening. “Cancel the deal. We stand our ground. Booby trap the island.”
“Booby.” Dutch snorts. I throw an elbow, but he moans and opens his arms, giving me access. “Hit lower, Solly.”
I grip my spoon. “Don’t sign up for something you’re going to regret. It’s not worth it.”
I’m not wor—
“You’re worth it.” Jin hooks his foot in my chair and slow-drags me into his stormy scent, stopping an inch before I bump his thigh.
While Dutch sticks to my other side, Jin leans into my space, but doesn’t reach. Just exhales until my skin fries.
My body drifts to him, magnetized.
Somehow, I stop before I climb into his lap.
Sandwiched between him and Dutch, my pheromones claw.
Excited? Or terrified?
“How ‘bout we deal with now problems?” Reese butters me a third slice of bread. “If we don’t set up a defense, we won’t be around to negotiate. Handle later problems later. After we survive.”
“I have trap ideas.” Give me a few hours, and I’ll seal a villa like a turtle shell I can flood with killer pheromones.
