26
Saffron
“So,I add the eggs. Then I add the water?” Rorik asked as he stood behind the kitchen island. His brow was furrowed in his characteristic bear-like frown of concentration.
I watched him with an amused smile from the opposite side of the bar. Our egg rested in my lap, cradled by a baby blanket—courtesy of Taylor, of course. He leapt at the opportunity to make custom quilts, especially now that Ruby was older and could get involved with his dad’s favorite hobby. Mostly by dragging fabrics all over the floor.
Aurum waved his spatula. “Yeah, and don’t forget the melted butter.”
“No, no,” Crimson interjected. His apron—again, thanks to Taylor—depicted his red dragon form juggling a bunch of chicken eggs. “Use milk instead of water. More calories, but richer flavor.” Shooting me a glance, he added, “And I know Saffron likes it when you pack on the calories.”
I grinned. “Guilty as charged.”
“That makes sense,” Rorik agreed, examining the small cup of melted butter. “Okay, I add all the wet ingredients, then mix the dry ones…”
“Don’t forget the baking powder,” Cobalt chimed in. He was a griller, not a baker, but as the eldest, he couldn’t resist floating over to offer his help. Although at this point, there were four cooks in the kitchen, and you know what they say about that. “I did that once, and my pancakes turned out denser than rocks.”
Rorik nodded. “I added it. And I made sure it was baking powder, not baking soda.”
Cobalt flashed a proud smile and patted him on the back. “Good job.”
A smile of my own broke out across my face. Watching Rorik get along with my brothers was beyond heartwarming. After a rocky start, he fit right in with our odd little family. Actually, at this point, it was abigfamily. And it would be even bigger when our egg hatched.
I downed the rest of my coffee—egg-sitting duty was tiring work, and I needed to be alert—then set my mug down, calling out, “Can I get some service here? Another coffee, please!”
Aurum waved the spatula impatiently over his shoulder. “Settle down, dude, we’re busy. Now, Rorik, take this spatula and stir it…”
“You have to fold the mixture,” Crimson insisted, peering over Rorik’s bowl.
“What does that mean?” Rorik asked.
“You know. You fold it. Like folding a shirt.”
Rorik frowned in confusion. “I don’t do that. I just toss my clothes straight in the drawer.”
Crimson paled like he’d just received terrible news. “Oh. Excuse me, I need to go sit down…”
With a heaving sigh, my fashion-obsessed brother slumped on the bar stool next to mine. Rubbing his temples, he muttered, “Rorik doesn’t fold his shirts… Do you know about this?”
I snorted. As if my precious bear should waste his time folding laundry. “Hey, at least hehasshirts now,” I pointed out. “Remember when he showed up naked?”
Apparently, lacking clothes was even worse than wrinkled ones. Crimson was so distraught he nearly sobbed. Thankfully, Taylor noticed his drama king mate’s torment, strode over, and kissed his cheek.
“Come on,” Taylor said, looping his hand into the nook of Crimson’s arm. “Why don’t we go teach the kids how to fold shirts?”
That was definitely not happening, but my brother was happy to abandon his seat at the offer. I chuckled as Taylor led Crimson to the babysitting zone—AKA, the ring of couches by the kitchen reserved for family breakfast. The people on standby, not cooking or dishing out coffee, hung out there with the kids while waiting to eat.
We’d started calling it the babysitting zone since, when the kids were present, our job involved making sure none of them wandered over to where their uncles were cooking. As adorable as it would be, you didn’t want a baby dragon gnawing on your leg while you tried to flip an omelet.
Ever since Rorik expressed an interest in cooking, my brothers jumped at every opportunity to help teach him. It was sweet of them, of course. I only hoped they didn’t overwhelm him with their chaotic infodumps. Especially Crimson. What the fuck wasfolding, anyway?
Since Rorik was busy cooking, I took the egg and plopped onto the couch with everybody else. Thystle and Matteo chuckled under their breaths at Crimson’s comical misery while Taylor attempted to distract his mate by complimenting his suit. It worked. On the other couch, Jade enjoyed a steaming cup of tea in one hand while the other curled around Alaric, who nestled against him like a sleepy housecat. On the floor, Muzo and Mylo amused the kids by shifting into their animal forms and knocking over stacked blocks, pretending to be giants destroying a city. This earned squeals of laughter from the kids. They loved anything over-the-top and silly.
I noticed Viol sitting on the furthest end of the couch, looking somewhat grumpy. Usually it washisjob to entertain the kids. Was he jealous? Or did the fictitious city-destroying game hit a little too close to home?
Suddenly, I felt bad for him. I still didn’t know the full story of what he’d done, and I was afraid to ask, but I didn’t want my older brother to wallow in guilt the way Rorik had done.
“Hey, how about we play a different game now?” I suggested.
