too much effort to take my eyes off her shapely legs, crossed one over the other, hiding what I want to touch, and kiss, and lick, and fill up until she screams her pleasure.
Goddammit.
Focus, Merc, or you’ll burn down JC’s kitchen. He’ll never forgive you. He’s already wondering what possessed him to take you on as a roommate.
“Can you make other things, or just pancakes?” she asks as I throw the ingredients into a bowl, making the mixture from scratch, whisking everything together.
“A couple more dishes. I try to learn a new recipe every few months, when I have the time to experiment.”
“How come you cook? Not many guys I know are interested in the kitchen.”
I shrug, taking out the pan and butter. “Gigi, that’s my other sister, can’t cook to save her life, and she babysat me so often I decided one of us had to learn how to cook. It was that or starve.”
“Octavia is the oldest?”
“That’s right. Octavia is married to this guy who owns the garage I work at, Matt. That’s another thing,” I say thoughtfully as the butter heats up and I pour the mixture into the pan for the first pancake. “I also like engines and gadgets, I like taking them apart, seeing how they work, what makes them tick.”
“Recipes work that way?”
I grin. “For me they do. You cook?”
“Sometimes.” I hear the shrug in her voice, and I glance at her, noting a shadow in her gaze. “I’m not particularly good at it. I tell myself it’s because Mom was never home, and Dad never even tried, so we ended up eating takeout every night, but… it’s too easy to blame anything on my parents, you know? I’m not…”
I’m so absorbed in the little details she lets slip about herself that I almost burn the pancake. With a curse, I dish it out and pour another into the pan. “You’re not what?”
This time her laughter is a bit sad and self-deprecating. “Not good at much of anything.”
I frown. “You mean, apart from being sexy, funny, clever, with a great taste in movies, not to mention a great help to your sister, you need to prove yourself more?”
I mean those words, but from the way her brows lift, you’d think I said something unexpected and surprising.
“Helping… what did she tell you?”
“Just that. That you’ve been helping her.” Is there a big secret there I’m not supposed to be aware of? “Isn’t it true?”
She nods and blushes. It’s fucking cute.
I turn back to the pan, lifting another pancake and pouring another. “I try to help my folks, too. I was a brat for most of my life. I’m the youngest and my mom and Octavia always worked hard to keep me and Gigi fed and clothed, and I got used to having others work while I listened to music and read.” I shake my head at my younger self. “But now Octavia is married with kids, and Gigi’s boyfriend had some family trouble.” I turn off the heat. “Mom found a guy she likes, and it’s my turn to help out. With the kids, with the family. So I get it.”
She makes a funny sound as I hunt for the maple syrup in the cupboards.
Locating it, I plunk it down on the counter. “I get what it’s like to love your family, how much that love means. How much you’d give to see them happy. If your sister needed you to hold the fort for a few days, take her place, well…”
I’m not gonna complain. I wouldn’t have met her otherwise.
The funny noise comes again, and I turn to find she’s rubbing at her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Abandoning the stack of pancakes, I go to stand in front of her. I part her legs and step between them so I can put my hands on her face. “Did I say something stupid?”
“No.”
“Cos… You can tell me.”
“No, really.” She breathes out as our foreheads touch. “Your family sounds great. Mine isn’t like that.”
She doesn’t elaborate, and I think of what she said about her mom not being there, her dad not trying, and anger curls in the pit of my stomach for the people who let her down. I slip my arms around her, struggling with the urge to wrap myself around her like a vine, like a wall, protect her from any pain.
“But your sister is different?” I whisper against her hair.