31. Abbie
31
ABBIE
"G lad you’re here." Corey’s eyes rake over me appreciatively as he pulls me in for a kiss that makes my toes curl. "Seth behaving himself?"
"Always the perfect gentleman." I follow him inside, trying not to gawk at the soaring ceilings and museum-worthy art. The kitchen is all gleaming stainless steel and marble countertops. Several pots simmer on the massive range while Corey stirs something that smells divine.
"Wine?" He gestures to an open bottle. "Dinner's almost ready, just finishing the sauce."
I accept a glass, watching him move confidently around the kitchen. There's something incredibly sexy about a man who knows his way around a kitchen, especially one who looks this good doing it. His forearms flex as he lifts a heavy pot and I have to take a large sip of wine to distract myself from wildly inappropriate thoughts.
"Need any help?" I offer, though I'm perfectly content just watching him work.
"Just your company." He shoots me that devastating smile that never fails to make my insides melt. "Fair warning though - my son should be here soon with his new girlfriend. Try not to judge me too harshly for whatever drama he brings. And he always brings the drama."
"Look who finally made it." A deep voice draws my attention to the doorway where Donovan leans against the frame, all rugged masculinity in dark jeans and a henley that stretches across his broad chest. My mouth goes dry.
"Where's Mindy?" Corey asks, not looking up from his cooking.
"Called earlier. Something about food poisoning." Donovan's eyes find mine as he pushes off the doorframe. "Hope you don't mind me flying solo tonight."
I absolutely should mind. I should be disappointed that our nice couples' dinner is now unbalanced. Instead, a thrill runs through me that I quickly try to squash.
"Hey stranger." He moves in for a hug before I can overthink it. His strong arms wrap around me and holy hell, he smells incredible - like leather and cedar and pure masculine power. My body betrays me, tingling all over at the brief contact.
"Hi." My voice comes out embarrassingly breathy. I step back quickly, tucking my hair behind my ear. Get it fucking together, Abbie.
"Can I get you a drink?" Seth asks from behind me, startling me. Thank god, because my brain seems to have short-circuited.
"Bourbon, neat." Donovan's eyes haven't left mine. "What do you need, Abbie?"
"I'll take a white wine, please, if you have it." I look around the room, suddenly acutely aware that I'm the only woman here, surrounded by more devastating handsomeness than should be legal. And I'm loving every minute of it.
We migrate to Corey's luxurious living room, all leather and chrome and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city lights. I perch on the cushion of an obscenely comfortable armchair, nursing my wine while trying not to stare at the three gorgeous men sprawled around me.
"My son just texted. They're running about twenty minutes late." Corey rolls his eyes, setting down a tray of fancy-looking appetizers. "Typical."
"More time for us to enjoy ourselves." Seth winks at me, popping a stuffed olive in his mouth.
The conversation flows easily between them - old stories and inside jokes that have me giggling despite myself. My wine glass never seems to empty, with one of them always ready to top it off.
"Did you tell her about Cabo?" Donovan's deep laugh sends shivers straight to my core. He's settled on the couch closest to my chair, close enough that I catch whiffs of his intoxicating scent.
"We don't talk about Cabo," Corey warns, but he's grinning.
"Now I have to know." I’m genuinely curious.
"Let's just say it involved a stolen golf cart, three angry security guards, and Seth wearing nothing but a sombrero."
"Hey, I looked damn good in that sombrero." Seth protests from his spot by the window.
The mental image sets me off laughing again. These men, so powerful and put-together in their everyday lives, sharing stories of their wild younger days. It makes them seem more real somehow, more approachable.
Corey's phone chimes again. "Another delay. Traffic, apparently." He shoots me an apologetic look. "I swear he does this on purpose sometimes."
"More appetizers for us." I pop a stuffed mushroom in my mouth, trying not to moan at how good it tastes. When I look up, I find all three men watching me with heated expressions that make my cheeks flush.
"Corey, you've outdone yourself. You sure you didn't have this brought in tonight?"
Corey smiles, takin another sip of his bourbon. "I like to take care of the people in my life….with good food, good wine, and good company." His heated gaze tells me everything I need to know about where this conversation might lead tonight.
My gaze shifts around the room. Every time I glance up, Donovan's dark eyes are on me. The intensity of his stare makes my skin prickle with awareness. He runs his tongue across his bottom lip, a gesture that shouldn't be so damn distracting. How are Corey and Seth not picking up on this crackling tension?
Donovan shifts on the couch, his knee brushing against mine as he reaches for his drink. The brief contact sends electricity shooting through me. I cross and uncross my legs, trying to get comfortable.
"Anyone need a refill?" Seth asks, standing.
"I'm good." My voice comes out slightly strained. The wine is going straight to my head, making everything feel warm and hazy. "Actually, I need to freshen up. Where's the bathroom?"
"I'll show you." Donovan rises smoothly. "It's upstairs."
I follow him up the curved staircase, hyperaware of his broad shoulders and the way his jeans hug his ass. The hallway stretches ahead, all dark wood and plush carpet.
"Second door on the right," he says, but instead of heading back downstairs, he follows me.
My heartrate quickens as I grab the door handle. His hand closes over mine, spinning me around to face him. My back hits the door and suddenly he's there, crowding me with his heat and masculine scent.
"Tell me to stop," he growls.
I should. I absolutely should. Instead, I fist my hands in his shirt and pull him closer.
His mouth crashes down on mine, hot and demanding. I gasp and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss until I'm dizzy with want. His hands grip my hips, pressing me harder against the wall as his tongue strokes against mine.
What the hell is happening here, and why do I love it so damn much?