Chapter 4
PLEASE NOTE FOR THE RECORD: HOT COFFEE NASAL ENEMA’S HURT LIKE A BITCH
ABBY
The mouthwatering aroma of a homemade breakfast wafts through the air as I walk into the kitchen.
I can’t help but lift my chin and close my eyes, taking in the scent that reminds me of the weekends I would wake up to a gourmet breakfast cooked by my mother.
As a single, working mother, she didn’t have much time during the week.
She was busy raising a teenage daughter and trying to work enough to support us.
She balanced it well by working as much as possible during the week so the weekends could be dedicated time for us to spend together.
And it always started with a hearty breakfast and puzzles in the morning.
It was a routine that stuck with me, even after she passed. But my cooking skills, no matter how hard I try, are nothing compared to the delicious meals she made.
She made scrambled eggs look sexy.
I’m lucky if I don’t accidentally burn my cereal.
“Oh my god, it smells delicious.” I round the kitchen island to the stove and peer into the skillet.
Grilled butternut squash, kale, asparagus, zucchini, and onions are resting in a large oversized skillet, sautéed to perfection. There’s a large pan full of scrambled eggs and a plate sits on the side of the stove with perfectly crisped bacon cooling next to a bowl with a towel draped over it.
Nosily, I tilt my head as I pinch the corner of the towel and lift it. “Homemade biscuits?” I practically squeal.
“Did you make these?” I look over at Wade to find him blushing.
He nods with a tight expression but there’s a flash of pride behind his eyes.
“You cook?” I ask, kicking myself because I should have asked him a more open ended question if I’m ever going to get him to talk. So, I’m shocked that he answers me with words.
“Yeah, we all do. It was my turn to make breakfast today.” His tone is stern, but not quite as harsh as earlier. “Except Jasper, he hardly cooks anything, and if he does, no one really wants to eat it.” There is a slight roll of his eyes and now he just sounds annoyed.
“Oh, you like it, you control freak,” Jasper chimes in as he sets the table. “I donate the food, you cook it. Plus, you hate eating other people’s food.”
“You only donate it because your parents have a farm,” Wade insinuates.
“It’s still my food.”
“Not food you pay for.”
“Neither do you.”
“Enough,” Major interrupts, as his eyes bounce between the two of them and they quiet down immediately.
This seems to be an ongoing and very regular event between the two of them.
I peek over at Jasper as he throws a grape up in the air then catches it in his mouth. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by the banter at all as he turns and gives me a beaming, gorgeous smile that I contagiously mirror back.
When I glance over at Wade, he’s watching Jasper annoyed, but with an added expression I can’t read.
Silence deafens the room and the awkwardness feels thick. Maybe because I’m here, or maybe because it’s just normal between these two, but I usually talk into a phone screen with no response so I’m used to creating conversation with less than this.
“So, what kind of produce does your family grow?” I ask Jasper.
“We grow everything, it just depends on the season. In the summer we’re known for our tomatoes. Oh, and our strawberries and blueberries are very popular,” Jasper adds.
“Mmmm Hmmm,” Major moans as if he took a bite of food, but when I glance his way he’s just humming in memory of said berries.
“Yeah, those are his favorite.” Jasper chuckles. “But fall is a huge season for us. We grow everything, from the leafy greens to beets and potatoes. Oh, and my personal favorite, pumpkins.” He winks at me.
My cheeks flush as I bite my lip because his flirtation is over the top killing me in the best way.
“And all the food that Wade cooked is from your farm?” I ask, impressed.
Jasper walks over to the kitchen to double check everything Wade cooked and nods. “Yup, everything except the bacon and some of the ingredients he made the biscuits with.”
“I’m so excited to try it,” I say as I walk over to where Major is standing. “Thank you for inviting me to stay.”
“Anytime,” he says like a promise, as he gestures to the table for me to walk to.
There’s nothing fancy about the seating arrangement. The wooden table is circular and fits four people, six if you wanted to squeeze in two more chairs. Yet, he pulls out my chair with a slight bow and holds out his hand as a formal invitation for me to sit.
“Thank you, sir.” His lip twitches as I take a seat and he places a napkin over my lap as if we were getting ready to eat at a Michelin star restaurant.
Wade walks over with a plate in hand and places it in front of me. With my short stature and his tall one, my face sits right at his hips in this position and I glance up, giving him a shy smile as I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
His eyes solidly connect with mine and for the first time I can see the golden hazel flecks in his dark irises and they’re absolutely stunning. He studies me, his eyes dropping to my body then back up to my eyes and there’s something electric and undeniable between us.
Jasper plops down on the seat directly across from me and rips us out of our trance.
Clearing my throat, I’m able to croak out “thank you,” before Wade glares at Jasper then turns on his heel, walking back toward the kitchen island. He grabs the other plates, placing one at each setting then sits down next to me.
Even with the rallying between Jasper and Wade, there’s a togetherness with the group as they all sit down with the plates full of a home cooked meal and it feels so comfortable.
More comfortable than it should.
Everyone eases into conversation with each other and I’m able to ask a question here and there about the station and how the schedule for the firefighters work.
I knew they worked long hours and often stayed at the station.
Apparently these three are often paired together and work twenty-four hour shifts, then have forty-eight hours off, then repeat that schedule.
But somewhere in between they get a few days off in a row before going through that cycle again.
“That must be tough on your families,” I ask, digging for more information about their home life, as I take my first bite of biscuit and moan out loud.
“This is really good,” I say through a mouthful of the soft, flakey bread. “It has the perfect amount of crispness to the outside but it’s so soft.” I moan again.
As I glance up, all three guys are looking my way. Jasper with a beaming gorgeous smile as he bites the corner of his lip. Wade’s jaw is clenched but not in an angry way, and Major stares at me with his fork hovering over his dish and a glint in his eye.
Our eyes connect and the fireworks tingle against my skin. How is it possible that I’m equally attracted to all three of these men who’re drastically different from each other?
I clear my throat, placing the loaded biscuit down on my plate.
“I’m quite the foodie,” I confess embarrassingly, as I finish chewing my food and use a napkin to wipe my mouth.
“That’s good, because if you weren’t Wade’s food would have definitely turned you into one,” Jasper admits as he slaps Wade’s shoulder, leaving his palm there giving him a small squeeze before letting go.
Wade glances down at where Jasper’s hand was, shifts in his seat, then continues to eat silently. Major's eyes flick between the two quickly before he catches me looking at him and grabs his coffee, taking a small sip.
“Gracie loves all the leftovers you bring home,” Major adds as he peers over at Jasper.
My eyes widen. Oh, god. He has a girlfriend.
My cheeks flush as I recall the kiss we had at the farmer’s market and all the flirty banter earlier today. Now, I’m feeling totally embarrassed. I grab my coffee and take a large swig as I attempt to hide behind my mug.
“She sure does, total heifer she is.” I snort and the liquid lead feels like lava as it flies out of my nostrils.
“Ow, oh my god. Ow.” I laugh, embarrassed, but squint in pain.
Jasper is chuckling behind his hand and Wade stands, grabbing a napkin to hold in front of my face as his other hand delicately caresses my back.
“Are you okay?” Major asks.
“Yeah, oh yeah, I’m good. I’m good,” repeating urgently, like it was no big deal. I wipe my face and the spots on the table, as I attempt to recover from my nasal enema.
I thank Wade silently with my eyes and a soft, sheepish smile. He leaves the napkin with me as he takes his seat again, giving Jasper a sharp look.
“You shouldn’t say that about women, Jasper, especially your girlfriend,” I whisper, accusatory.
I recall the way I felt when Sam would comment on my weight whenever he had the chance. Especially when I was eating.
Don’t eat all that, it’ll go straight to your ass.
Have you checked your weight lately?
Calories in, calories out.
It was constant.
I’m curvy, I have a little extra padding in a few places but I’ve come to appreciate my body after years of berating it.
Am I skinny and fit with a six pack? No.
But, I eat balanced meals, exercise when I can and do as much as I can in moderation. I hate that there’s so much pressure on women to have this ideal body type that we could strive a lifetime for and still never be satisfied.
“I would never.” Jasper leans forward, dipping his eyes to meet mine that are fixated on my plate. “Gracie’s my cat,” he says assuringly, like he can sense the words I’ve heard before.
“Oh.” I huff out a laugh.
“Yeah, she’s perfect.” He chuckles back. “One eye, two and a half legs, loves food and cuddling.”
“Loves food and cuddling, huh?” I repeat with a giggle. “I just got part of my slogan for my dating profile.”
There’s an awkward pause between everyone before Jasper chimes back in.
“Lily loves your cooking too, doesn’t she Wade?”
“Let me guess. Lily is your lizard, that’s missing its tail and loves chocolate,” I reply as I peer over at Wade.
“She’s my daughter.”