“Sounds good. Today’s a slow day at work, so I’m calling it quits soon. Wanna cook together?”
Jed leans over my shoulder. “That better not be a fucking euphemism, Frankie.”
Frankie lets out a wistful sigh. “He’s just so dreamy. Especially with that growl.Speaking of daddies…”
I shake my head and laugh. “You do realize Jed is younger than you, right?”
“Daddy is avibe, Shaney-babe. You have so much to learn.”
“I guess so. But yeah, let’s cook. It’s been a while.”
“Perfect. I’ll drag this one to the grocery store. He probably doesn’t even know what those are.”
Two hours later, Frankie and I are owning the kitchen, while Graham and Jed watch from the kitchen table. Are we putting on a show? I mean, Frankie’s playing his karaoke playlist, so I’ll let you be the judge. Paulie, Shelbs, and East are sitting around the coffee table working on a puzzle.
Frankie adds some cooking wine to the chicken he’s browning, and a loud hiss fills the kitchen, followed by a cloud of steam.
“Coming in behind you,” I say as I carry my sheet pan of carrots over. I’m making my mom’s recipe.
“That’s what he said,” Frankie calls.
I snatch the towel on the oven bar and whip it at him. He jumps out of the way just in time and grins at me. We’re doing chicken picatta with chickpea spaghetti, carrots, and brussel sprouts for dinner.
Frankie walks over to the fridge and takes out a couplelemons. He tosses them to Jed without a word, and Jed snatches them out of the air, eyes wide. Damn, those reflexes are sexy.
“Fuh—udge.” Jed glances at Graham. “What the hell, Frankie?”
Frankie chuckles. “He’s eighteen, not eight, Jed. You can say fuck around him. Roll those for me? Need a good strong man to massage my lemons.”
Graham chokes, and Jed’s expression goes dry as dirt.
Frankie hands Graham the juicer. “And you, handsome, can squeeze ‘em.” He winks.
“Frankie, behave!”
I blink as the two words reverberate through the room like surround sound. I think all four of us yelled that. Frankie just chuckles.
At that moment, the front door slams. “Oh my fucking God, when did we move to the Amazon? It’s pouring buckets out there.”
I shoot Maddy a small hello smile. He slaps me on the ass with the baguette he picked up for us on his way home from work. “Here’s the fancy bread you requested. Damn, it smells good in here.”
“Thanks, I’m trying a new aftershave,” Frankie says.
Maddy rolls his eyes, but his smile widens. He heads for the living room and discreetly says hi to Easton. A sliver of guilt settles over me. Maddy and East are in an awkward position with Graham being here, and I hate them having to hide in their own home.
I quickly nab three beers from the fridge, pop the tops, and approach Graham and Jed. I lean against the table, forcing their attention away from the living room. I slide the beers over.
“Cheers, boys.”
I catch Maddy’s eye, and he sends me a grateful smile. And immediately greets East the way he’d wanted.
“I’m not twenty-one,” Graham says, eyeing the beer.
I push his a little closer to him. “It’s a session, so it’s low alcohol percentage. And kind of feels, like, all big-brother-y to be sneaking my lil bro beers.”
His eyes light up, and his cheeks bunch with a grin. “Yeah. It does.” He grabs his and lifts it. “Cheers, big brother.”
Well, be still, my stupid heart. It’s kind of cool getting to be a big brother. Something hot and sharp rushes over me, and my muscles go taut. I grit my jaw. I could have had that. If not for my father. He took a lot away from me, and this is just one more thing. Graham’s a really cool kid. I would have loved the chance to grow up with him. Play catch. Be someone he could lean on.
