I grab a hoodie from my desk chair and tug it on, then lead Mason down the stairs. Jacob must be cooking waffles because Hayden is snarking loudly at him. Hayden is very particular about his waffles.
“You’re going to burn them,” Hayden hisses from beside Jacob.
Jacob just sends an amused look his way. “How often have I burned your waffles, boss?”
That only seems to infuriate Hayden further, which is pretty typical for them. I make enough noise they hear us both shuffling in. Jacob glances at me over his shoulder, nods, then returns to his cooking. No Dante and Reid yet, so I pull a chair out for Mason, kindly pushing it in for him once he’s at the table. I ignore Jacob and Hayden’s muffled arguing. Instead, I focus on making myself a cup of coffee and a cup of black tea for Mason.
Back at the table, I put a little milk and sugar into my coffee, then settle in the chair beside Mason. The kitchen is warm from Jacob’s cooking, and the light outside is that soft winter yellow that promises a chilly day. Hopefully today is calmer than yesterday, and hopefully we get some good news.
“Hey, Eastport is on CNN right now,” Dante announces as he swaggers into the kitchen, heading straight for the plate of sausages sitting invitingly on the island. He grabs one, takes a bite, then turns around with a shit-eating grin. “You will neverguesswhat happened overnight.”
“No, I won’t guess, so please just tell me,” I reply dryly.
Dante looks a little put out but just shrugs while hastily fixing himself breakfast. Jacob goes to swat him since it’s obviously not ready, but he expertly dodges Jacob after years of practice. I fight the urge to chuckle. Dante grabs a hot waffle from the plate and dodges away from Hayden to join us at the table.
“They found Senator Warton’s body… down by the river.”
Hayden abruptly turns around. “What?”
“Yeah,” Dante answers around a mouthful of sausage. “I guess he was mugged.”
“I don’t understand…” Mason looks around the room at everyone, cheeks flushed. “But I killed him.”
Jacob waves the spatula at Mason to make a point. “Nuh-uh, my dude, he wasmuggedby theriverfront, and that’s the story we all need to stick to for like the rest of forever.”
Mason looks so confused, I have to hold back a laugh. After years of all this, I’ve gotten used to rolling with the punches. Like Reid said last night, it really is always freaking something.
Jacob makes both me and Mason a plate, setting them down on the table in front of us. A moment later, a pink-cheeked Reid strolls into the kitchen. Mason watches his brother make a cup of orange juice with an amused, tender sort of look on his face. The way Mason looks at Reid speaks of so much love. Do I ever look at Jacob that way? I love my twin, but I cannot imagine looking at him like cotton candy shoots out of his ears.
“Morning,” Reid greets everyone.
“And?” Dante presses.
Reid narrows his eyes. “I am sorry about the tantrum last night.”
“We’re used to it by now,” Jacob teases while taking his own seat at the table.
Hayden is last because he has to pour approximately thirty-two ounces of syrup all over his waffles, much to Jacob’s combined chagrin and fond annoyance.
“So… we just accept the fact that my uncle’s body was seemingly moved and made to look like he was mugged?” Mason asks, voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm. I kind of like it a little, when he gets sassier. It proves his walls around us are lowering.
Hayden grunts as he shovels a huge bite of waffle into his mouth. “Yesh, just go widdet.”
Jacob turns to glare at Hayden. “What?”
Hayden rolls his eyes, swallows, then turns back to Mason. “Just go with it. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Mason visibly blanches. “So many things. Do not ask a person with anxiety a question like that.”
“Hmmm, well. We’ll figure it out. I still think Parker moving into your house isn’t a bad idea, in case this all goes tits up.”
“Great!” Mason says again with obvious forced enthusiasm.
Hayden grins lecherously. “Glad you’re so excited. Welcome to the family.”
Reid sighs, that sigh he always lets out when we’re all being particularly us. “Mason, it’ll be fine. At least we don’t have to deal with Marc anymore. That’s the positive.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Mason grumbles. He pushes around the waffle on his plate instead of eating it.
