32. New
Chapter 32
New
FREDDY
“ H oneys, I’m home,” I called as I entered the house and walked into the living room.
Callie turned from where she was sitting on Marco’s lap to shine the brightest smile my way.
Fuck, I needed that.
What was supposed to be a quick stop at the four properties had turned into disaster after disaster. Things were premade that should’ve been handled the next day. Things that could’ve been premade weren’t. I’d spent half the time in Nebula’s steakhouse, re-emulsifying a million pounds of broken gravy because even if I wasn’t going to be there, I refused to let them serve grease slop.
Usually, I would love the challenge. The chaos was my high. And being the one to tame it was good for my already overinflated ego.
But for the first time since I’d picked up a set of knives, the kitchen wasn’t where I wanted to be.
I’d wanted to get home.
To the three of them.
Callie shifted like she was going to get up, but that would take too long. Especially if the grumpy bastard under her tried to keep her in place.
Rounding the couch, I gripped her jaw as my mouth took hers. With everything so new, I hadn’t been sure how it would work. If things would change after the night before. But other than leaning to the side to keep watching TV, Marco didn’t move. Didn’t pull her away.
Didn’t kick my ass.
“I’ve been thinking about that all day,” I said when I finally ended the kiss so we could breathe.
It seemed like an important thing to do, but I couldn’t remember why that was when she gave me another smile, that one small and shy. “I missed you.”
“Missed you, too, little steak. Did you eat?”
She nodded. “Daddy Marco ordered pizza. There are leftovers in the kitchen.”
“Pizza and a beer and you on my lap sounds perfect right now.” I started back around the couch to head toward the kitchen when Cole snagged my arm. I paused and looked down, assuming he wanted a beer or to give me some update.
It was an update, all fucking right.
Using his hold, he pulled me down, and his mouth touched mine. It wasn’t a deep kiss, but it also wasn’t a peck. The firm press of his lips shot to my already hard dick.
Like he hadn’t just rocked my world and our friendship, he released me. “Grab me a beer while you’re in there.”
“I’m not kissing you for it”—Marco shook his empty bottle, still watching the hockey game like it was business as usual—“but I’ll take one, too.”
I lifted my chin and kept going into the kitchen. Once I was out of view, I did three things.
Adjusted my hard-on before it broke.
Gripped the edge of the counter and inhaled before my thread of control snapped, and I did more than just adjust.
And then I ran through what kind of injury caused what could only be a very vivid hallucination.
Did I hit my head?
Fumes from the industrial cleaner?
It must’ve been a gas leak. No. Stress aneurysm.
Whatever was happening, I hoped it didn’t get better. I had Callie. I had Marco in the only way we wanted each other. And I had Cole—possibly as more than just my best friend.
I tried to shake it off as I moved to the fridge. I must’ve still been distracted because I almost didn’t notice the mixing bowls behind the pizza container.
Huh .
Holding three bottles by the necks in one hand and a slice of cold pizza in the other, I returned to the living room. I paused in front of Marco for him to take one. It was a calculated risk, but I flopped down near Cole before holding one out to him.
He took it without shifting away.
Putting the pizza in my mouth to take a bite, I jerked my chin. I’d meant it to signal Callie over, but the action might’ve been necessary to get through the plastic some monster used to make the so-called food.
I was particular about what I cooked, but like all chefs, I ate my fair share of garbage. Leftovers from dinner service that shouldn’t go together. Easy shit I could shovel in my mouth while standing over the sink at two in the morning. Fast food. Whatever was quick and greasy after a long shift.
Or a long night drinking.
Her concerned gaze was on me as she came over. She tried stopping in front of me, but I situated her on my lap as she asked, “Are you okay?”
“You know how they say there’s no such thing as bad pizza or bad sex? They lied.” My glare cut to Marco since Callie said he was responsible for ordering it. “What in the ever-loving fuck is this shit?”
“Callie’s request. It’s her favorite.”
That was almost enough to cut off my rant. There wasn’t a lot I wouldn’t give our girl. But an indefinite future of that shit? I couldn’t stomach it—figuratively or literally.
I tossed the mostly uneaten slice onto the coffee table. “Baby, what the hell?”
“What?” She twisted and slid from my thigh to the center of my lap, her eyes going wide when she felt my hard-on under her ass. She swallowed before remembering she was supposed to be defending her horrendous taste in one of life’s most perfect foods. “It’s good. And it’s only five bucks.”
“Fi…” The word trailed off, my brain failing to process it. “A restaurant—and I use that term loosely—is not going to take a hit on profit. That means that the ingredients in that monstrosity have to come in well under five dollars.”
She started to argue with me before her brows lowered. “I never thought of that.” But then she just lifted a shoulder. “It’s amazing that they made it taste so good.”
Since the beer was all I was left with, I took a swig and asked, “They’re making you watch hockey?”
“She’s into it.” Cole reached over, and I assumed he was going to touch Callie or selfishly try to steal her from my hold. He didn’t. He put his hand on my thigh. He didn’t say anything as he looked at the TV. He just let it rest there.
What the hell changed while I was gone?
“Only the fights, though,” Marco put in.
She shifted to look at him. “I like the whole thing.”
“Yeah, but you put your phone down during the fights.”
“They’re interesting.”
Cole squeezed my leg, but he still didn’t remove his hand. “How’d it go?”
“A disaster as I feared. But at least it’s handled today, so I’ll only receive a couple dozen frantic calls and texts tomorrow.” I lifted my hips to readjust myself, pressing my hard-on against Callie’s ass and my leg against Cole’s. Her expectant eyes rose to mine, but I didn’t take it further.
I might not have known what was going on, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t getting off on the tension.
The torture.
It wasn’t just the touches and anticipation that was seriously fucking working for me.
It was the normalcy. Coming home to them. Relaxing, drinking a beer, watching hockey. It was the same as any other time we hung out.
Just with the knowledge we would end the night in bed with our girl and not alone with our own dicks in our hands.
“How was your day?” I asked Callie, twisting one of her curls around my finger.
“Good. Daddy Marco and Daddy Cole went to Eternal Sun, but it seems like it was pretty uneventful. Unlike when Daddy Marco followed it up by breaking someone’s nose at Star. Then I got spanked. That part was also more eventful. I may or may not have ADHD. Oh, and I also may or may not have ruined three batches of cookie dough.” She pointed at the table. “Plus, we had pizza that everyone but you liked.”
I glanced at the two men to see if that was an accurate summary, but their focus was aimed at Callie.
“How’d you find out about the nose?” Cole asked, his angry scowl cutting to Marco. “I told you she doesn’t want to hear that shit.”
“Hey, don’t be mad at him,” she ordered like the big guy was a defenseless baby. “His text came through when I had your phone. And a broken nose is a lot different from… you know. It’s fine.”
“Let me know when you have Daddy Cole’s phone so it doesn’t happen again.” He waited for her nod before tossing in, “And like is a strong word for that pizza.”
“You ate five slices.”
“I’m a growing boy.” He paused with his bottle partway to his mouth to smirk at her. “And I knew I would need the energy later.”
That time, she adjusted herself, squeezing her thighs together.
My control nearly went up like she was taking a br?lée torch to it, but I went back to what she’d said. “Ruined the cookie dough?”
“I was trying to make three types at the same time. It didn’t go well.”
“The bowls in the fridge?” I surmised.
“Daddy Cole said we should wait for you.”
Keeping hold of her, I stood. “Daddy Cole was correct.” I paused to level him with my own glare. “Don’t get used to that. That Daddy shit doesn’t work on me.”
One side of his mouth curved up as he lifted his beer to his mouth and muttered, “We’ll see…”
Since that was a part of our relationship that wouldn’t be changing, I ignored him as I carried Callie into the kitchen. I set her on the counter and pushed in, taking her mouth again without the audience and with better access.
Pulling away, I rested my forehead on hers. “You good?”
“Minus feeling guilty about wasting the cookie dough.”
“I have a cake and two pies. The cookies were overkill.”
“I told you, I wanted to bring something from me.”
At the way she nervously stared down at her hands, I cupped her jaw and tilted it up. “They’re gonna love you. Juliet already thinks you’re great. She’s gonna rope you into her book club. Maximo’s bite… Okay, it is actually worse than his bark, but it’s only directed at people who deserve it.”
Her voice lowered. “Won’t they think it’s weird that it’s the four of us?”
“Okay, mon ciel étoilé ?—”
“What does that mean?”
It wasn’t the first time she’d asked, but I lied again. “Little cookie. Anyway, I think it’s time for a story. A handful of years ago, Maximo ate at a restaurant that employed the sexiest, most skilled chef in the land.”
“You?” she guessed.
“Shh, you’re jumping to the twist. This culinary wonder made him an exquisite steak. When he returned two weeks later for another one, he was disappointed to learn the chef had quit. See, the chef had a bastard father who disapproved of his life choices, but especially his love of cooking. He viewed it as a woman’s job that was below the station of a Frédéric man, and it was a point he’d made with his fists and then vocally when the chef grew too big to beat on. Rather than the intended consequence, the criticism only made the chef crave a challenge. It made him restless.” Before she could twist that into something it wasn’t, I added, “But only culinarily.”
At my pointed look, she whispered, “Got it.”
“Maximo, despondent and heartbroken over the lack of perfect steaks in his life, hunted down the chef. At first, he offered him his own restaurant, but that wasn’t a headache the chef was interested in. After tasting more of his cooking, he offered him free rein in any of his kitchens, including his personal ones. The chef could develop, test, and change whatever he saw fit.”
“Okay,” she drawled, her brows lowered.
“There was a tech nerd who already worked for Maximo after he’d admitted to hacking into the hotel booking software to get a free night’s stay. He’d been so disgusted at the weakness in their system, he fessed up in order to patch the hole the previous company had left. There was also a bodyguard…” I tilted my head. “Actually, the bodyguard had just applied for a bouncer job but was scary and loyal and, again, scary. The point is, Juliet says Maximo collects strays, and she’s right. He does. We’re his family, and he wants us happy. It doesn’t matter if that’s alone or with three other people. So don’t stress. It’ll be perfect.”
Before she could respond, Cole came into the kitchen. “What’re you two talking about?”
“The time you passed out naked on Marco’s coffee table.”
He glowered before reaching into the pocket of his sweats to pull out his phone. A challenge lit his eyes, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss the smirk off his face or punch it. “So it’s time to talk about Mardi Gras?”
“That coffee table?” Callie asked before doing a double take. “Wait, what happened at Mardi Gras?”
“No,” Cole bit out.
At the same time, I glared at him and said, “Nothing.”
“Is this about how you like king cake?” she asked him while I moved to get the dough from the fridge.
Grabbing one of the bowls from my hold, he left me with the other two and waited until the fridge was closed to push me against it, giving me another hard but fast kiss. His voice was low so only I could hear. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” Then he dropped the bowl at the counter, pressed a similar kiss to Callie’s mouth, and walked from the room.
I wasn’t sure if Callie realized it was all new for us. That kisses like that never happened before she came into our lives. Other than looking dazed by the kiss he’d given her—and nervous about the state of the dough—she didn’t blink at the rest of it.
It just was what it was.
And it was fucking perfect.