Chapter 10
Ethan
“It’s not my fault, Ethan,” Flint casually stated, trying to hide his humor behind indifference.
“Gavin heard Millie screaming and was too afraid to come inside and see what was wrong after the last time he’d entered her bathroom without permission, so he called in the troops.
” He jerked his thumb at his chest as though I couldn’t conclude on my own what he meant.
I’d been very patient with my brother over the years. Lord knew he needed it. But right now, it was taking everything I had not to throttle him. I still wasn’t sure I’d be able to hold back, after seeing how upset my mate was. I was doing my damnedest to keep control, but it wasn’t easy.
“You owe Millie an apology,” I ground out, not giving a shit about myself.
This was about my mate. She was still upstairs hiding, five shades of red, because of what my brother had just rudely witnessed.
“Sure. No problem, you want me to go upstairs now, or should I give Millie a few minutes to clean up?” Flint innocently inquired.
“You’ll talk to her tomorrow. Don’t even think about trying to talk to her tonight. You’ve done enough damage already,” I sternly lectured.
Flint grinned mischievously. “I’ve done enough damage? Have you seen your bathroom door? That shit is in pieces, man! Say, didn’t you just give Gavin a ration of shit for doing the same thing to Millie only a few days ago?”
My even temper was legendary amongst those who knew me. However, Flint was about to change all that for the worse.
“Go back to the guest house, Flint. I’m not doing this with you tonight,” I spoke in a rough whisper, pinching the bridge of my nose while counting to ten in my head.
“I’m actually going out. I’ve got a date. I just wanted to let you know I probably won’t be back tonight,” he casually informed me.
A date? What the hell? “You’ve only been in town for two days and you have a date lined up? Who is she?”
Flint shrugged. “Beats me. I just picked her name from a stack of napkins.”
What the fuck was he going on about? “What the fuck does that mean?”
“I’m running late, so I’ll let Millie explain it. Don’t wait up,” he quipped, before heading toward the door for his date.
Millie
I couldn’t make eye contact with anyone at the breakfast table that next morning. Even though Flint was the only one who’d walked in on Ethan and me, I was certain the perv had told everyone else in the house about it by now.
To my surprise, Ethan hadn’t forbidden me to work this morning. I think he felt really guilty about Flint’s behavior and was trying to make it up to me by allowing me to keep my job. At least there was a silver lining.
But I wasn’t completely in the clear yet. My mate had told me if anything else suspicious occurred, I was quitting on the spot. Taking the deal, as it was far better than the one I’d been expecting, I’d agreed and headed out to the garage with Stark.
Thankfully, this blissfully quiet brother of Ethan’s was driving me to work today and I didn’t have to relive the whole traumatizing event of last night all over again in a car ride over to the coffee shop with Flint.
One of the conditions of my parole, I mean my freedom, was that I was to be driven to work in a different vehicle each time I left the house.
Between Ethan’s full garage, and our visitors, that was doable for the next several shifts.
After that, we’d rotate vehicles to keep anyone potentially looking for me disorientated about my comings and goings.
When I clocked in for work, I noticed my friend Jessica wasn’t there and Catherine said she’d called out because she’d had a wild date the night before.
No one else could pick up the shift, so we were understaffed for the day.
We were so busy, the girls didn’t even have much time to pepper me with questions about yet another hot man who was weirdly escorting me to work.
I ended up staying an extra hour at the coffee shop because the person relieving me was late.
By the time I left, I was dead on my feet and napped on the quiet ride home.
Stark didn’t even tease me about it, which I greatly appreciated.
I might not know this man well, but his presence was somehow comforting for someone who rarely said more than a few words.
As soon as I stepped into the house, I was overwhelmed by the most delightful, homey aromas I could imagine. For dinner, Ethan and Gavin had cooked us a feast: Chicken parm with pasta and homemade garlic rolls.
Walking over to my mate, I circled his waist with my arms and hugged him tight. “I’m running upstairs for a quick shower, but I can’t wait to dig into this meal as soon as it’s done.”
Ethan wiped his hands on a clean dishtowel and set it on the counter before turning and giving me a proper greeting. Reluctantly letting me go, he said, “It’ll be ready as soon as you are.”
Dizzy with a hunger that didn’t emanate from my stomach, I slowly nodded then headed upstairs to rinse off the cloying scents of the coffee shop.
The aroma of the food was downright divine as I descended the stairs after my shower.
It would seem my mate was an excellent cook, as were all of the men who’d been raised at Cascia House.
Ethan had told me domestic chores were everyone’s responsibility at a group home.
The men had no qualms about taking care of any kind of domestic labor because they’d been doing it since childhood.
That was something I greatly appreciated because my skills in the kitchen were rudimentary at best, and I’d mostly been living off premade meals from the freezer aisle since my dad had passed.
“It smells amazing down here!” I complimented, sniffing all the rich spices wafting about the pleasantly warm kitchen.
Ethan snagged me by the arm and pulled me close. “Not half as good as you smell, mate.” Nipping my neck, he began to snuggle me against his chest, rubbing his hips against mine in a familiar, heated way.
My insides went as warm as my cheeks as I absorbed the heartfelt compliment. Forgetting the food, and our company, I laced my arms around his neck, lifted onto my tiptoes, and told the man exactly how I felt about him with my lips.
“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Flint objected, as he began to pile spaghetti onto his plate. “Unless, of course, I’m invited to participate. Then, by all means, please continue.”
The men all groaned at Flint’s bad joke and Ethan and I reluctantly separated. Loading up our own plates, we took our seats at the table and began to dig in.
“This homemade bread is amazing,” I complimented, each buttery, garlicky bite hitting the spot just right.
“I’m glad you like it. Gavin made it,” Ethan returned, putting another roll on my plate. “Take another. There’s plenty to go around.”
I wasn’t going to say no. Bread fucking rocked and I was starving.
Trying to draw the bashful Gavin out of his shell, I turned to him and said, “Is this your own recipe?”
The young man blushed and nodded. “Yeah. The boys back home loved my garlic bread, but Ethan made the rest.”
Garlic bread and fried chicken were a carby match made in heaven.
I took another mouthwatering bite and let the pairing ignite the tastebuds on my tongue.
I’m not sure if it was because I was becoming a ware or not, but all of my senses, including my taste buds, not to mention my crazy sex cravings, had suddenly gone into overdrive.
“Give her another helping of pasta, Ethan. She’s going to need the extra energy tonight,” Flint cavalierly added.
I shot Ethan a speculative glance. Was that a sexual jab or something? I swear, Flint wasn’t right in the head.
“What my brother meant to say was,” Ethan interrupted, after observing how confused by the comment I was, “we’re going for a run in the woods later. You’ll need the fuel for that run.”
“A run?” I didn’t know how to break it to these guys, but I wasn’t much of a runner. “I don’t have the build or the shoes for it.”
The men at the table chuckled at my innocent response.
“It’s a four-legged run,” Flint clarified. “If you catch our drift. No shoes required.”
Ethan set down his fork and proudly proclaimed, “We’re going for a run together as a group later tonight, Millie. We want you to come with us and see if that helps with your first shift.”