Legs
I setthe food on the counter and put my fingers between my lips, whistling to let everyone know breakfast’s ready. I hear footsteps and look up to see Toot rubbing his hands together in glee.
“Alright, talk me through what we’ve got here, Legs. I want to make an informed choice when selecting these tasty morsels.”
I snort and start pointing out what everything is. “Biscoff French toast, baked egg cups with ham, spinach and feta muffins, berry yogurt parfaits, cheesy hash brown and sausage casserole, banana oat muffins with a pecan-brown sugar crumble, crispy bacon and sausage links, scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and last but not least, pancakes with your choice of maple, blueberry, or chocolate syrup—and whipped cream.”
“I expect you to keep cooking like this when we get married,” he says, grabbing a plate and piling a little of everything on it.
“Umm… I see. And what exactly will you be bringing to this marriage?”
He stops and puts his plate down, then starts to unbuckle his belt and reaches inside his pants, making me squeal.
“No junk around the food, damn it. You know the rules, Toot.”
He sighs dramatically as Midas and Capone walk in.
“What’s going on?” Midas asks, eyeing Toot as he does his belt back up.
“Oh, you know, just talking about our upcoming nuptials,” Toot says casually, popping a piece of bacon in his mouth as I throw a strawberry at his head.
“You hit me. This is why prenups exist. I’m putting it in writing—no produce-based violence.”
“Tell me, Toot, does your brain cell ever get lonely?”
Capone laughs, grabbing a plate and loading it up before kissing my cheek. “This smells fucking amazing, Legs. You really are my favorite chef.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m the only chef, or at least as close as you’ve got. Most of you think making dinner means ordering in.”
He laughs as he heads down the island, taking a seat next to Toot, who’s quiet now that he has his mouth full of food.
“I don’t even know where to start. This looks incredible, Legs,” Midas says, his praise making me flush. I’m used to compliments from the others, but with him, even after all this time, it still gets to me—the attraction between us pops and fizzes like ice-cold soda on a hot summer day.
“I got it.” I take his plate, knowing exactly what he likes. I don’t admit that I cook meals with that in mind—he’d get the wrong idea, and he’s gone out of his way more than once to make sure I don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t want him to think I’m some kind of stalker, though sometimes I feel like I am. I can’t help it. I’ve taken all the red flags this man has to offer and woven them into a pretty little scarf—even though some days that scarf feels more like a noose tightening around my neck.
Once I’ve fixed him his plate, I hand it back to him. He leans down to kiss me like Capone did, but I step away. He’s the one that drew the line in the dirt. I’m just abiding by it.
“I’m going to let everyone else know the food’s ready, then Lil and I are heading out to do a little retail therapy.”
“Have fun—but not too much fun. I need a lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets, not the other way around,” Toot calls out.
“What you need, Toot, is a magnifying glass and a course of antibiotics,” I call back, making Capone choke.
“Laugh it up. Anaconda and I can take a joke.”
“You call him Anaconda? Aw, that’s cute. I call him Nemo because of how long it takes me to find him.” I smirk as I head out of the room, ignoring the ribbing behind me. I love the easy camaraderie they have here. I never felt this comfortable with the Chaos Demons, so I kept a large part of myself locked away. I spent so long listening to my mother’s words about pleasing others that I forgot all about my own happiness. Now I don’t have to think about it at all. For the first time in a long time, I feel more authentically myself, even with the secrets I still carry.
Shaking my head at my wayward thoughts, I walk into the saloon, cup my hands over my mouth, and yell “Food’s ready!” for everyone who wasn’t close enough to hear me whistle.
Chairs scrape back, and they all stampede into the kitchen. I bite my lip, worried I didn’t make enough.
“You sure know how to clear a room,” Blade jokes, walking over to me with Alex.
“Auntie Legs!” Alex squeals, letting go of Blade’s hand and running toward me.
“Hey, little man.” I drop down with my arms wide, and he barrels into me, wrapping his arms around my neck and planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek. “How’s my favorite little guy?”
“Exhausting. He’s been getting up every couple of hours for the last week. No idea why.”
