9. Leah
Leah
Screw those two. My cabin smells like toasty brown butter and gooey chocolate.
Rage baking always soothes the soul. I’m better than the drama they were trying to cause, and I know it.
Gone are the days when I seek out male validation.
There’s nothing a man can do for me that a toy can’t, and silicone doesn’t come with an ego.
Wiping down the counter, I package up my peace offering and begin the longest, strangest walk of shame ever. What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment and refuse to let Parker go to sleep angry with me. With any luck, Grady will be there, too. If not, I’ll text him and call that good enough.
Hand hovering over the door, counting down from ten, my knees wobble.
The doorbell will be better, less harsh.
Pressing the button, I shift back and forth on my feet.
As the door swings open, Parker’s face tightens in a troubling way.
His normally cheerful, relaxed expression morphs into something darker.
My mouth moves like lightning. “Before you turn me away, which would be completely valid, please let me explain, and apologize.” Lifting the container, I bat my lashes, giving him my best puppy dog eyes.
Sighing, he turns toward the living room. Grady is sitting on the couch, arms crossed over his chest.
“You feeling up to an apology, Hulk?” Parker asks, voice careful, measured.
Grady stands, approaches the doorway, and inspects my surroundings.
“It’s just me, I left the douche bags to their burgers and stormed out of the diner. After the scene I made, we may never be allowed back.” Chewing my lip, I fight a grimace.
Grady puffs out a laugh, eyes landing on the package in my hand, flitting to my face.
“I made Granny’s famous cookies. Supposedly, this recipe is what made Gramps marry her.” I beam.
Brows shooting to his hairline, he snatches it with superhuman speed, jerking his head toward the living room.
Parker chuckles. “Well, apologies accepted, I guess.”
“No, it can’t be that easy, make me earn it.” I take a seat on the middle cushion, and they sit on either side of me.
Grady usually keeps a safe distance, opting for the other sofa.
Their combined closeness electrifies the blood in my veins, forcing heat up my neck.
He opens the container, inhaling the aroma with a sigh.
The smallest smile plays at his lips. A deep, gravelly hum rumbles through him with the first taste.
Holy horniness, do not moan, Leah.
Parker kicks his feet up on the coffee table, long legs stretched out casually, ankles crossed.
He drapes his arm over the back of the couch, fingers brushing against my shoulder absentmindedly.
“How exactly would you earn our forgiveness?” His words stop Grady mid-bite, and he gives him a curious look.
Filthy images fill my mind.
“Oh, I was just… I don’t know.” I shake my head, gathering myself.
“I was going to tell you that I told them to get lost because you’re my friends and I can’t stand the drama.
The cookies were honestly my secret weapon.
” I pass Grady a pitiful pout, chuckling as he shoves another cookie into his mouth, groaning louder.
The sound sparks more explicit thoughts. His enjoyment of something so simple, his blissful expression while savoring it, makes me curious if he sounds like that in the bedroom.
Husky, unfiltered, raw.
Squeezing my thighs together, I remind myself that we’re nothing more than allies working toward a common goal. Even that is questionable at times. If anything, his tolerance is solely thanks to my cooking.
“Do you enjoy having men act like jackasses for you?” Parker asks with an edge I’m not used to.
“No, they were acting stupid for them. Some ego trip, thinking it would work. I’m not that girl anymore. Men showboating for my attention isn’t what does it for me.”
He twirls my hair around his finger, humming once. “Good answer.”
Grady, in a rare display, scoots closer, arms open, eyes much softer than usual.
With a shaky exhale, I lean into him. “I’m sorry for letting them treat you like that.
I’ll be a better friend. I promise.” Tipping my head back, the sight before me is beautiful.
Warm and shining, his eyes don’t leave mine.
I go still in his arms, breath held for fear of ruining this.
His jaw ticks, throat bobbing on a swallow.
Then, in an instant, he replaces the mask of indifference and slides away from me.
Oh well, I got a second hug, I’m going to cherish it as much as the first.
“Come here,” Parker says. His position hasn’t changed, so hugging him is a bit awkward.
I nearly have to throw myself into his lap to make it work.
“You’re a beautiful soul,” he murmurs, tone warm.
“Grady doesn’t need you to stick up for him, but it’s endearing to see.
I also find it very adorable that you care about him enough to threaten to kick Bridget’s ass. ” He titters against me.
“That’s right! I was so sidetracked by the jerk squad that I forgot why I actually needed to apologize. But also, what the hell were you doing with her?”
“Oh, yeah, so… Henrietta knows that Bridget is not ready for competition, so she’s had me triple the training.
Bridget, being delusional as hell, thinks I’m using our extra sessions as a front to spend more time with her.
I’m one more ‘Parkie’ away from sticking pens in my ears.
” He huffs, reaching over me to grab a cookie.
“But Paaarkieee,” I whine, doing my best Bridget impersonation.
He stops, cookie in hand, and stares at me. “I’ll keep these, and kick you out of here so fast,” he deadpans, but the smallest bit of humor peeks through. Grady snorts, shoulders shaking. “Keep it up, Hulk, I’ll send you back to the stables,” he quips.
“The stables?” I blurt out.
“Uh, yeah, just an inside joke. Thanks for these, by the way, they’re delicious.”
Tingles fill my body when he licks melted chocolate off his fingers.
God, I need to get laid.
“You’re welcome. I miss having people to cook for. Sorry for… whatever I did to push you guys away. I swear I’m not some hussy or any of the things Bridget says about me. We have a lot of work to do in a short amount of time. I need us all on the same page.”
“Nobody ever said you couldn’t cook for us and come hang out. Your food is the best I’ve had in a long time, Hulk too.” Parker squeezes my thigh, nearly pulling a whimper from my lips.
Instead, I flash him a vibrant smile. “Don’t threaten me with a good time. I love seeing my people full and happy.”
“Your people, huh?”
“Uh, friends? Family? Anyone I care about, really.”
He grips my thigh harder, the pressure is nearly enough to make me throw caution to the wind. “You’re a good woman, don’t let people like Bridget and those two idiots tell you otherwise.”
Working to swallow the boulder in my throat, I nod. “I’d better get some rest, I have a lesson in the morning, and my trainer is ruthless.” My coy smile earns a genuine chuckle. “Good night, guys.” I stand and tip my head toward Grady.
To my surprise, he waves, mouth corners lifting ever so slightly.
Maybe all hope isn’t lost.
Morning has always been my favorite time of day. Something about the stillness being broken up by the waking world is energizing. My lesson doesn’t start for a couple of hours, and I have every intention of making the best of them.
By that, I mean I’m making breakfast for the guys.
This morning calls for my 90s hits playlist. Since I have time, buttermilk biscuits are on the menu. A little egg and sausage with cheese, and they’re about to be the best damn breakfast sandwiches those two have tasted. My brothers love them, and they’re picky as hell.
Cutting the dough, I place them on a pan and toss them into the oven, bouncing around to the music. It’s very important to eat these fresh, so I get to work cooking the eggs and searing off the sausage patties. By the time they’re done, the biscuits have cooled enough for me to handle them.
Wrapping each sandwich in parchment paper, I grab my trusty orange juice—which I know Grady in particular loves—and head out.
The stables are dark, training grounds empty.
This place would look abandoned if it weren’t for the horses in the pasture.
Which reminds me. I peer around the corner of the stable as I pass.
Tally is grazing alongside Champ. Apparently, Bridget decided she’s worthy of his company now.
There are no other horses to be seen in their pasture. So, where are Warren and Quincy’s?
Oh well, no time to worry about all that, breakfast is getting cold.
I practically skip to Parker’s cabin, basket in hand. Words can’t describe how excited I am to watch them enjoy my food again.
A sleep-ruffled shirtless Parker opens the door, one eye still nearly closed. “You really jumped at the opportunity to feed us, huh?” His raspy laugh does something inexplicable to my insides.
Am I falling in love with this man?
Impossible.
He motions for me to enter and I immediately look to the couch, not surprised to find Grady there.
“Does he live here?” The question flies out of my mouth like a racehorse when the gates open.
“Uh, well, sort of. Unofficially. Don’t say anything to anyone about it, though, okay?” Parker’s face and voice both fill with tension.
“Okay…”
Not odd at all.
They don’t sleep together, so they’re not secretly dating. There are no real signs that Grady actually lives here, aside from his constant couch surfing. Whatever their reasoning, it’s no concern of mine.
I shrug and move to the table, unloading my basket. “Hope you’re ready to propose, fellas.” My face pulls into a giant grin.
Grady groggily ambles over, drooping into a chair, bare chest on full display.
I count my breaths, focusing on anything but burying my face between his pecs, and hand them their biscuits—two for Grady with extra cheese. They unwrap the golden, fluffy goodness and immediately dig in.
“Fuck,” Parker says on a moan. “You made these from scratch?” His eyes widen as I nod, admittedly more sheepish than I expected.
Grady chews his first taste with a blissful smile and hooded eyes. He hums around each bite, finishing half of sandwich number one in seconds. I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me.
“So which one of us do you want?” Parker asks.
I nearly drop my biscuit. “Uh. What?”
“You said we’d propose, I’m asking which one of us you want to do it. These are to die for.”
“Oh. I’m not the marrying type. Don’t worry.” Sharp and dry, I laugh, but it’s not convincing in the slightest.
Grady slowly tilts his head with scrunched brows.
Okay, they’re definitely not buying it.
“What? I’m not the type of girl men marry. Nor am I capable of love. I’ve only ever been the ‘good time’. Then I get tossed aside,” I grumble into my orange juice, praying the glass hides my pitiful frown.
“You’re not just a good time. You deserve to be an ‘until the end of time’. Don’t sell yourself short because nobody has bothered to appreciate your efforts. The right man will adore you.”
There it is, the clear-cut “not it” buried under fluffy words.
Friends or hookups, that’s all I’ll ever be.
“Do you understand how many letdowns I’ve suffered through? Young me wanted something that doesn’t exist. Love is a lie.” I toss myself back in the chair and groan.
Parker arches a brow. “How many of those guys started as hookups?”
Grady drums his fingers on the table, expression blank, but heavy.
“You don’t understand,” I say to my lap. “I’ve never been important to anyone. If it wasn’t for my body, I would have nothing to offer.”
“You made us a full-on breakfast after knowing us for a day. You’ve nearly fought Bridget on Grady’s behalf twice now.
Just yesterday, you organized a dinner to introduce us to new people with the best intentions.
It’s not your fault they suck. Your heart is huge and beautiful.
” Parker takes my hand with a warm smile.
A tear trails down my cheek. “It’s all a product of my desperation. Always eager to please, up until it gets tiring. Then I crash and people turn their backs on me when I become too much.”
Grady scoffs. Storm clouds fill his eyes, head shaking slowly, deliberately.
This is too real, too personal.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to bring the mood down. I’m fine, really. Who needs love when you have a horse and a dream?” I force a smile and return to my breakfast.
It’s obvious that they don’t believe my lies, but neither of them pushes for more. It’s funny how part of me wishes they would.