When I glanced back at him, he was motioning for us to follow. Cole slung an arm around my shoulders and tucked me into his side as we started moving. I let myself soften into his strength and heat. It was comforting and I built up my own forte from it.
He kissed the top of my head and whispered, “Don’t worry about him. If he can’t tell that you’re perfect the way you are, it’s his loss. Not yours.”
Aw. I smiled up at him as we walked into the small, but functioning kitchen space. He blinked down at me and stopped moving, making me halt too. I was confused for a moment until I remembered. I stopped smiling.
He started moving again.
Oops. I was going to have to watch that.
Brent slipped his hand into mine at that moment. He scowled, glancing pointedly back and forth between Cole’s arm on my shoulders and Cole’s eyes. He tugged on my arm. Cole tightened his hold on me. Our footsteps faltered as they literally began playing tug of war with me. Good. Grief.
I grunted, tired of their returned grumpiness after Stash’s joke, and tugged back. Hard.
Not…the best thing to do.
We immediately over balanced. I squeaked as we went down. We landed in a heap of sprawling limps, hands and legs intertwined, faces smashed on the floor or on someone’s elbow. Not to mention the table of pots and pans we took down with us. They clattered and clanged a merry tune as they spun and teetered before settling down to rest all around us. Cripes.
As the sound of echoed out the open door an old smoker voice cackled, “That’s one way to get ‘em to quit fighting over ya, ‘lil bit.”
I inclined my head from Brent’s chest, peering at whoever found this embarrassing moment so amusing. I’m not sure if it was the fall, but I could have sworn I was staring up at Aunt Jemima. Or maybe it was the fact that she was holding a bottle of the syrup in her hand. I blinked owlishly.
Joe’s face was startled as he stared down at us. “You guys all right? If you get hurt, don’t expect to sue and actually make a profit. Cash doesn’t grow on trees around here.”
Aunt Jemima smacked him in the shoulder with the syrup. “Hush up, you. Can’t you see that poor girls got her hands full? She doesn’t need you harpin’ on her, too. Now get, you.” She shooed him out of the room with her swinging bottle of syrup.
I heard Joe call out, “You’ll get your weapons back when you leave.”
Brent and Cole were starting to stir. They groaned as Aunt Jemima whistled softly. “Weapons, huh?” She ogled Brent and Cole. “’Lil bit, I think you are one lucky girl.”
Brent swung and arm around my waist and pushed Cole, who was rubbing his forehead where a streak of dirt now rested and glaring at the spot on the tiles where his face had landed, off his legs. I was still blinking when Brent stood up fluidly, taking me along for the ride. My feet dangled a few feet from the ground and I was a little dizzy as I watched Cole punch Brent’s leg before standing easily.
Aunt Jemima blinked a little herself before fanning her face. “Very lucky indeed.”
“Are you Lou?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. Brent still hadn’t released me. I wasn’t going to argue. I wasn’t positive I could stand on my own right now. Plus, it felt nice. A girls gotta have a few moments to indulge.
“Yes, I am,” she stated cheerfully.
And so it went. I got to watch as Brent and Cole were tasked with rewashing the pots and pans that had littered the floor. Lou gave me an easy task of setting out the non-refrigerated ingredients for tomorrow’s breakfast. Bas was sent off to the dining area to pick up all of the plates from their dinner service that had occurred an hour before.
It was peaceful. Even when Lou made me help with the washing after Bas brought in a third arm full. Lou sent him out to sweep and mop up the floor after dumping his load next to the industrialized sink. Poor guy wasn’t thrilled, but he did it without complaint.
They didn’t have a dishwasher here. Really, it would have to be comically enormous with the amount of dishes that the shelter’s occupants used in one meal, so I slapped on a pair of dishwashing gloves and helped Brent wash while Cole rinsed and dried. We got into a system that flowed like a well-oiled machine. Blessedly, no one argued.
Brent was humming something quietly until he started belting out Bad Romance byLady Gaga. Cole glanced at Brent, and then joined in after the first verse. I giggled. And added my bad singing voice to theirs equally bad ones. Yeah, we all have an inner dork locked up somewhere inside.
We finished our terrible song, hearing a chuckle behind us. We glanced back where Lou was wiping a counter top off. She laughed heartily, shaking her head, “I’m gonna turn the radio on. No offense, now.” She walked over to the radio, passing a stupefied Bas holding a mop and staring at his bosses blankly, and turned the dial.
Oh, Lordy.What were the odds?
Brent grinned and gave me a smacking goofy kiss before belting out the lyrics to Kiss byPrincethat were playing over the airwaves. Lou shook her head and turned it up. Cole started thumping his thumbs on the sinks edge and smirked. He grabbed and dipped me, placing a smooch right on my neck before busting out with his baritone voice singing right along. I cracked up as they swiveled their hips like idiots and starting washing dishes again, grooving and singing to a song neither did well at all. Bas just stood there in a daze.
All was well in my world for a few blissful moments in time.
***
“She’s droppingher elbow,” Cole murmured before glancing back down at his screen that he didn’t squint at. His glasses were in place on the tip of his perfect nose. I finally realized that he was too self-conscious to wear them around anyone else. He just wore them at night when only Brent or I saw him.
“I can see that,” Brent commented irritably, then returned his attention to me. He moved behind me where I stood in front of the bed and wrapped his left arm around my waist and put his right arm under my extended one where I held my knife.
