Chapter Eighteen
I HADN’T wanted to get out of bed, lying between Brent’s and Cole’s toasty warm, naked bodies, but the smell of bacon had called to me like a hound to a fox.
I had at least managed to throw on Brent’s expensive shirt that he had worn the previous night.
The thing hung well over my hips, but I had still found my Death Row bottoms to throw on.
I yawned and rubbed my eyes barely believing I was trudging down the hallway for food at nine o’clock in the morning after the night I’d had. I should be out cold, but my tummy rumbled reminding me that it wanted food. Now. I guess I had worked off a lot of calories last night.
I grinned. Oh, yeah. I had definitely worked up a fine appetite. Really, I was surprised Brent and Cole weren’t up, instead of just stirring. They had to be darn near starving.
I rubbed my belly and yawned great big as I entered the main living space where I had heard the TV going.
Everyone was sprawled everywhere, eating breakfast and watching one of Green Acres many re-runs.
I didn’t pay them much attention and went straight for the kitchen where I loaded up my plate with bacon, grits, sausage, and toast. Ally must have cooked.
I plodded back into the living room and sat down on the floor, and placed my plate on the coffee table and started eating.
I was too hungry to eat slowly, so I grabbed a napkin and placed it conveniently in front of my plate and leaned over and inhaled my food.
Oh, so delicious. My tummy rumbled its agreement.
I was wiping my mouth with a clean napkin and crumbling up the now disgusting one when, from my left, Ally muttered dryly, her twang peeking out, “That was some impressive eatin’.”
I blinked and glanced over. No one had been talking the entire time since I had first entered the room.
I had assumed they were too busy watching the show or stuffing their faces, but as I looked around at everyone, they all appeared drawn and sickly.
Their faces were kinda droopy and they had bags under their eyes and they rested back on the chairs or couches like they were stoned.
Even Stash appeared worn out and…shell-shocked?
My eyebrows snapped together, and I asked Ally, “Did y’all catch the flue or somethin’?”
Everyone scowled.
I stared in confusion.
Brent traipsed into the room at that moment, only wearing his jeans from last night slung low on his hips.
His hair was a mess and he was stretching with his arms over his head, back arching.
He spotted me and grinned before heading toward the kitchen.
Cole followed a moment later, dressed much the same, in his jeans from the night before that he had zipped, but had missed the top button so they rode a smidge lower than Brent’s had.
He yawned and scrubbed a hand over his shadow of a beard.
He smiled when he saw me staring at him and went into the kitchen after Brent.
I watched the door instead of the silently glaring crew.
I’m not sure what their problem was, but it was starting to feel a bit hostile.
I hoped whatever they had, they didn’t blame it on me – or sneeze in my direction.
I shivered and kept watching the door. I scratched my head and worked at a tangle in my hair before they came out with enough food for four people.
Mmm. Maybe they would let me steal a few things off their plates. The sausage had been wonderful.
Cole sat down next to me on the floor and Brent sat down next to him, and they used the coffee table as I had, reminding me of an adult sitting in a kindergartners chair.
They shifted around, trying to get comfortable, their large frames hunched over the short table for optimal snarfage.
I crisscrossed my legs, so they could have more legroom.
I leaned in close to Cole and snuck the largest sausage off his plate, while whispering in his ear, “I think everyone’s sick. It’s made them awful cranky this morning.” A thought occurred. “We ate the same dinner as them last night, so it can’t be food poisoning.”
When he peered up and around at them, I stuffed the sausage in my mouth.
Zane’s voice whispered from right behind me, “For someone who’s so damned insightful, you’re sure missing the mark on this one.”
I jumped and almost choked on my sausage. He had leaned down close and eavesdropped on what I had said. I scowled at him as I chewed my mouthful, my cheeks all puffed out; it probably made me look like a redheaded chipmunk.
His red rimmed eyes and slightly pale face studied mine.
Cole slid an arm around my waist and jerked me closer to him, farther away from Zane, and again, I nearly choked on my pilfered contraband.
Zane’s eyes moved to Cole’s, and he muttered, “You should have taken a break at some point during your…festivities…last night and fed her. If you had, she wouldn’t be stealing your food, and we all might have gotten some damned sleep.”
My eyes bulged, and I gulped, swallowing my large mouthful.
Oh.
My face flamed.
“Earplugs,” Bas mumbled like he was in a daze, staring off into nothing. “I’ll buy us some earplugs.”
Brent, Cole, and I sat silent as we viewed the heated, exhausted stares flaying us.
Ally griped, dropping her head back on her chair, eyes closed. “I know Brent and Ember can be damn vocal.” Opening one eye, she still managed to stare daggers at Cole. “But, you too, Cole?”
“Maybe they have industrial ones at the airport,” Bas whispered, still talking to himself.
Chloe started snoring, her head resting against Peter’s shoulder.
Ally continued, ignoring everyone else, raising a tired hand in Stash’s direction before letting it fall back down. “And there’s something wrong with him. He hasn’t spoken a word all morning.”
The three of us turned our gazes on Stash, who was sitting there pale and kind of wide-eyed – much like he had looked last night – with a mouth that hung slightly open.
Huh.
Brent cleared his throat and scratched his chest. “We weren’t that loud.”
A resounding ring of curses flew at us.
Tough crowd.
***
I was dressed in my finest, a newly bought black dress, that felt more like a slip, and black stilettos.
I had made a purchase from one of the stores in the lobby for the party Mr. Fresby was throwing.
I wasn’t going to slip over to the “other side” and wear a cocktail dress or a pencil suit, but I had managed to find an outfit suitable for my tastes and corporate America.
Although, I wished we had stopped at the bathroom so I could have brushed my hair with the pilfered brush I had “borrowed” from Cole’s stash of goods when I had noticed that it was drizzling outside and my hair was surely messed up.
Other than that I was pretty sure I looked fine and would fit in decently.
The crew was still grumpy and hacked from lack of sleep, but I was in fine spirits.
As were Cole and Brent. They stood on either side of me as we entered the ballroom Mr. Fresby had rented for Sensations’ anniversary at the Station Expo Center.
The room was large and tastefully decorated in gold and silver.
There was a band playing at the end of the room were a few couples were already waltzing on the dance floor.
Enormous crystal chandeliers hung overhead and a gold, decorative molding rimmed the ceiling, matching the expensive tablecloths lying over round table and the chairs in front of us.
The waiters were wearing those same festive colors, so I was content knowing that I wouldn’t be mistaken for one tonight.
Ally and Sam – she had finally joined us - stood to the left of us.
Zane and Stash led our group, leaving Bas, Peter, and Chloe to our right.
Cole’s hand rested on the small of my back and Brent was holding my hand.
All was peaceful in my world right now – as long as I didn’t think about the choice they expected me to make at some point.
I currently tried to keep those thoughts elsewhere and just enjoy the evening.
Mr. Fresby noticed our crew and broke away from his circling entourage, strutting over to us in a spiffy, black tux.
It looked much like the ones the men in my group were wearing.
He smiled when he saw me and I had to smile back.
The man just had that affect when he deigned to bless you with friendly warmth.
His deceased wife had been a very lucky woman.
He greeted everyone kindly, not even looking surprised when Ally introduced Sam as her date. It appeared that he had also done some checking on Ally. The man did his homework, that’s for sure. He stood back for a moment and his forehead crinkled, taking us all in.
“Are you all coming down with a cold?” he questioned with honest concern.
As one – except for Sam, who smirked – the crew turned to Brent and Cole and me.
Glowering.
Mr. Fresby’s eyes danced over all of their faces, landing on ours last. He studied us with quiet intensity.
I tried to look innocent of any carnal acts, as did Cole and Brent with their relaxed poses.
It didn’t work so much. Mr. Fresby’s lips twitched.
Then he chuckled with the biggest grin spreading over his face.
“Did you three have an interesting evening last night?”
I blushed beat red. Cole groaned. And Brent sighed.
“You could say that,” Ally muttered, glaring harder, her eyes still exhausted.
Mr. Fresby’s laughed out-and-out.
The crowd around us turned to gawk at their big, mean boss man who was chortling, tinkled pink.
Luckily, Mr. Fresby calmed quickly enough and threw us a bone by stating politically, “I’m glad you enjoyed the passes to Firestone Live. I’ve heard it can be very entertaining.”
Cole grinned. “Thank you for those. It was very…entertaining.”
Brent smiled. “Yes, very.”
I elbowed them. Hard.