12. CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER TWELVE
I vy
A savory aroma travels through the cabin, overpowering the flowery fragrance of my body wash.
Did Iris start dinner without me?
Even as the thought forms, I shake it off. I’d first believe that a ghost slithered in through a crack in the wall to fix a meal than to believe that Iris cooked.
I swear I’m not being mean. Her pop star lifestyle didn’t afford her the time to do mundane stuff like learning how to cook. If she were in the kitchen, the smoke detectors would go off even before the tang of spices fill the air.
If she isn’t the one cooking, then who is?
I exit the bathroom, throw on my clothes, and follow the aroma to the kitchen. I’m halfway there when I come to a halt.
Brody is bent at the waist and looking into the lit-up oven. It’s hard to believe but the delicious aroma is really coming from there, from a meal he’s cooking.
Okay, bring in the ghost. I must have surely started seeing things after hitting my head while learning to ski.
While I’ve proven that Iris is bad at cooking, Brody is even worse because he has never made an attempt at it. The entire time we’ve been here, he’s acted as though he’s allergic to fresh food. The only times I’ve seen him with a plate is when Sera stops by with a restaurant-bought meal or I’ve scrounged up something with Iris’s assistance.
But he’s there in the kitchen. In the flesh. A very taut and muscled flesh by the looks of his arms and shoulders. His body is fit for guns and combat. But he has mitts on with an apron wrapped around him and knotted at his lower back.
My stomach flips and my feet refuse to move. Seeing him make dinner is odd and even more unsettling, he looks so hot while at it. Those hands that now clamp around a fork were in me just hours ago making me orgasm until I felt as though I was floating.
“Staring is not nice, Ivy.” His voice shoots straight through me. He’s still turned away, focused on his task.
My heart races. “H-how did you know it’s me?”
“I can feel your ice-cold judgment from a mile away.” He cocks his head. “Or is that admiration? I can’t tell with you.”
I fluff out my hair and ignore the flush of embarrassment that rises up my cheeks. “Admiration? You wish. I’m just wondering what you think you’re doing.”
He turns around, carrying a steaming pan of feta pasta. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Ugh, that looks so good . The man and the dish. Both. Together at the same time. He’ll feed me while rocking into me.
No. No . I have to remember who this is before I do something stupid. So I resort to what always works—going on the offensive.
I fold my hands across my chest. “Do you even know how to cook? Or have you decided you’re done with us and you want to give us diarrhea?”
He snorts. “Definitely not done with you for sure.” My cheeks heat up even more, bringing a smile to his face. “How is she?” He nods toward my lower body.
“Fuck you.” I’m still swollen and needy despite trying to put what happened behind me.
“I know you want to.” He winks.
Did I really think he was going to be cool about it? I roll my eyes and plop onto the kitchen stool. “What did you make?”
“Feta cheese pasta.” He juggles the pan, jostling its contents. “We’re having guests. Can’t have them breaking their wrists cutting through a too-tough steak.”
That was one time. All Iris had to do was watch the steak while I finished up the side dish and it turned out as well as he described it. I’ve learned my lesson since.
I’m not even mad he’s calling me out for that. My mouth waters for his pasta. It looks and smells divine but I’m not telling him that.
“How rich of you.”
He raises a brow.
“Only cooking because your friends are coming over.”
“You don’t give me room to cook on a usual day, do you?”
“You never ask for it, do you?”
His eyes grow heavy. “Will you let me if I asked?”
My breath catches in my throat. I somehow feel like this has nothing to do with cooking.
And yes, I would let him if he asks nicely, but that’s beyond him so it’s never happening.
The sound of footsteps sends a spike through my spine. I sit up straighter. “That’s absurd. There’s no way I’m letting you handle our meals!” I’m a little louder than necessary, but I’m trying my hardest to shut down the voice that’s saying yes to something that is definitely not cooking.
“Ivy…” Iris walks into the kitchen. She’s in a prim sweater and fancy pants. Her hair is pinned away from her face. Her made- up face. Mild but apparent. Why is she dressed up? “Don’t scold Brody. He’s making dinner for all of us.”
“He’s making dinner because his friends are coming over. Has zilch to do with us.”
“Still, he’s being nice. The least you could do is not fight with him.”
The fuck? When did I lose Iris’s support? My eyes flash to Brody. He must have turned her against me. He smirks, looking pleased with himself.
“Oh, that looks tasty!” Iris leans in to breathe in the steam rising from the pan. “I can’t wait! Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Set the table,” he says smoothly. “I’ll clean up here.”
Iris hops to it while Brody turns to clear the utensils he used. Both act like I’m not there at all.
I fold my arms and sit back.
Look at them. Acting like longtime roommates. Pssh . No matter what, I’m not getting carried away with Brody’s act. He may have Iris fooled but not me.
Just because he took us skiing, made me come, and has now prepared dinner means nothing. He’d go back to his grumpy self in a heartbeat and I’d be the one calming Iris down and promising her she did nothing to offend him. He’s just a giant dick. With a giant dick I want inside of me but we’re not focused on that right now.
Ten minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. Brody’s head snaps up and his muscular frame goes rigid. The veins on his arm pop like he’s gearing for a fight. With sharp movements, he rids himself of the apron and prowls over. Iris skips in the same direction. He holds out an arm, asking her to stay. She nods and hangs back, earning a thumbs up from him. I roll my eyes. Bet he wishes I were that compliant.
Not at all moved by the theatrics, I inch closer, standing apart from them. The door opens. It’s not the Big Bad coming for us. Brody and Iris welcome Sera and the guys.
Before now, Iris and I have only seen the latter briefly when Brody communicated with them by video. My sister hugs them with a big smile on her face.
She’s probably so excited because this is the most fun we’ve had in a single day since coming to Pine Peaks. I’d be having fun too if it wasn’t for you-know-who.
The blond, unruly-haired man looks across the room to me. From what I remember he’s Nick, the one handling the field investigation for HEY.
He smiles, showing off cute dimples. I’m taken aback by his friendliness. I remember to smile back. He waves me over.
I start to move but I pause. I’m mad and I want to stay mad. But something else is even more fun—making Brody mad.
Sucking in a breath, I square my shoulders and cross the space to welcome our guests. “Hello. I’m Ivy.” I offer Nick my hand.
“I’m Nick. It’s nice to meet you.” His hold is firm but gentle. “So, you’re the thorn in Brody’s side? You look too pretty to be as much of a problem as he says.”
Brody rumbles an annoyed sound, his gaze fixed on the place where my hand connects with Nick’s.
Huh.
“You know what they say. Don’t judge a book by its cover.” I drift closer to his friend. “But we’re talking about Brody here. It’s more likely than not that I’m just one of his many thorns, based on how prickly he is.”
Nick throws his head back and laughs loudly. “Are you sure you only met him a week ago? You’ve described him perfectly.”
“Oh, I know.” I meet Brody’s eyes. “He’s so obvious.”
Brody narrows his gaze in a subtle threat. He doesn’t intimidate me one bit. I’m surrounded by his friends. There’s nothing he can do to me here. And I doubt he’d want to ruin his special dinner by speaking back.
“I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” I turn to Zane. He has shaggy brown hair and deep, intelligent eyes.
“We haven’t. I’m Zane,” he says evenly and shakes my hand like we just completed a business deal and then he steps back.
“Ivy. Nice to meet you.” I keep my smile on even though his cool reception unsettles me a bit.
“Good.” Brody claps his hands. “We all know ourselves now. Let’s go eat.”
Iris and Sera walk side by side. Nick and Zane flank me on both sides. Brody is the only one unpaired, marching with his back straight and a tightness in his shoulders. Poor baby . I’m going to make him feel exactly how I did when my sister supported him over me.
The dinner table seats all six of us comfortably. Brody at one end and Nick at the other. I sit next to Nick with Zane beside me. Iris is opposite me with Sera beside her.
It’s a perfect position for me because I’m between Brody’s friends but with a clear view of his face, so I can see how tonight goes for him.
With the steaming pasta on our plate, we dig in. It’s so, so good. Everyone tells Brody this and his proud, self-assured smile grates on me.
“Could use a little more salt,” I say, just to bring him down a notch.
“You’re right. Just sprinkle from your reserve because you are made from the same stock.”
Iris chokes on her meal. Because she’s laughing?
“Are they always like this?” Sera hands her a glass of water.
Iris drinks before speaking. “Not usually. They mostly just ignore each other. Today has been a bit different. We went skiing—”
“You did what?” Zane demands, his narrowed eyes fixed on Brody.
“I made sure to avoid all the busier areas,” Brody says drily. He doesn’t like the not-so-subtle criticism. “No one saw them.”
“And he taught us to ski!” Iris brims with excitement. “We never got to learn before. But you should have seen us out there today, we were so good.”
“Not,” Brody counters.
“You should have told me you needed lessons,” Nick says to me. “I’m a great skier and teacher.”
“Oh, really?” I lean in closer to him. “I’m sure it’d have gone a lot better with a better instructor.”
Something slams on the table. We turn to see Brody with his fist on the polished wood.
“I saw an ant.” He fumes at me and Nick.
It’s working. I place my hand on his friend’s arm. “Maybe sometime you can take me to the slopes.”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” Nick’s eyes shimmer.
He’s not serious. I can tell. Maybe he knows I’m trying to get under Brody’s skin and he’s helping. Why though?
“That’s enough,” Brody says after a while. “We have the investigation to talk about.”
When the dishes are cleared, we all return to our seats at the table.
Zane looks up from the laptop he pulled out when we were up and busy. “Uh, what are you still doing here?” He looks between Iris, Sera, and I.
I look at the ladies. Their faces reflect the confusion I feel.
“We’re here to hear what you have so far,” I volunteer.
“No.” He shakes his head. “You can’t.”
My mouth falls open. Brody is rude, but this guy is just plain dismissive. Is this a club for difficult men?
I start to speak but Nick cuts in. “What Zane is not saying is that the information we’re going to share is sensitive and important to the investigation. We can’t let just anyone hear it.”
“We’re not just anyone,” Iris says. “It’s my and my sister’s lives that are at risk here. You think we’d go and tell someone to come get us?”
“No one thinks that. It’s just standard procedure,” Zane says.
“Yeah, well. We don’t agree. Simple as,” I say. “We are all going to hear what’s going on. Lies and secrets got us into this mess in the first place. You’re not going to leave us out now.” My eyes connect with Brody’s and I dare him to argue against that.
Sera lifts a hand. “I know I’m not the client, but I need to be here for my job. Something may slip past if I’m not here to take note of it.”
“What could possibly slip past you?” Zane grouches. “Your job is to answer the phone and confirm schedules.”
Sera shoots him a look but says nothing about his snide remark.
“Enough,” Brody says. “The ladies can stay. Let’s get this over with.”
“Good.” I lean back, making myself comfortable.
“Just don’t interfere,” Brody says.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I bite back.
“You already are,” he returns.
“Jesus, Iris. I don’t know how you cope with this duo,” Nick says.
Iris’s lips lift at the corner. “Me neither.” She turns to the man who’d either bring us good news or shatter our hopes. “Zane, please start us off.”