My brothers are all home, and the noise emanating from the kitchen makes it evident that they’re all still eating dinner.
I make my way toward the laughter, shucking off my sliders and placing them into the bag that I’m carrying containing a new pair of sneakers, just in case my brothers haven’t found the shoe mountain that must exist somewhere in this house.
The kitchen island is a mess of pizza boxes and beer bottles, the staples of any male-dominated house. River and Tobias are having a night off their crazy protein-rich diets, which I’m relieved about. There is only so much grilled chicken and broccoli that I can watch my brothers eat without feeling physically sick.
“There he is!” Mark shouts, and all eyes drop from my face to my bare feet. There’s a moment’s pause before they all burst into fits of belly-clutching laughter, to which my only response is a shake of my head.
“I had to meet the exhibition organizer with my toes showing,” I say grimly, resting my bag on the countertop. “She was looking at me funny, but I didn’t want to draw attention to something rooted in stupid pranks, so I just ignored the fact that I looked like a douche canoe.”
“You always look like a douche canoe,” River says, tossing a piece of pizza crust at my head. In a flash, I’m across the room, grabbing him around the neck and rubbing my knuckles across the top of his head. My baby brother squirms and yells, but I have years of practice putting these assholes in their place, so he doesn’t manage to escape my grip before I decide his punishment is over.
“Did you find the shoes yet?” I ask.
“Mrs. Henderson found them in the pool house after lunch,” Danny says. “I bagged them up and put them in my room. You need to come and reclaim what’s yours.”
“I guess I didn’t need to go shopping after all.”
“I think that’s the least of our worries,” Mark says, rubbing his chin. “Danny’s set off a chain reaction.”
“The fucking Oreos,” Tobias groans.
“The milk!” River makes a retching sound that causes us all to snort with laughter.
“Who knows what else she has planned for us?” Mark places his hands flat against the cool marble in front of him. “We need to put our heads together and come up with a way of getting out of this childish situation without losing too much face. I can’t be dealing with this shit before work every day. I’ll get fired.”
“No way,” Danny says. “Cora’s shown that she’s a worthy competitor. We can’t back out now.”
“You might have time for this shit,” I grumble, “But I’ve got more important things to do.”
I slump onto the free stool and grab a cold slice of pepperoni pizza. At least I can be sure that it won’t be tainted with something gross. Just as I’m taking a bite, Tobias starts choking, a piece of pizza flying out of his mouth and over my shoulder onto the tiled floor. His eyes are bugging out at something behind me, and when I turn to see what’s got him unable to eat like a normal human being, I find a half-naked woman strolling into the kitchen.
And not just any half-naked woman.
Cora Horton, wearing nothing but a black lace bralette and tiny matching Brazilian panties. Her eyes don’t even drift in our direction. Instead, her focus is on the refrigerator.
I watch, mouth agape, as she opens the door, grabbing a few items, which she places on the counter. Retrieving a plate and a knife, she begins to make a sandwich as though none of us exist.
My eyes travel down the full expanse of her smoking-hot body. Her toned back and arms, the narrowness of her waist, the wide flare of her hips, and the roundness of her ass. Thick thighs taper into muscular calves and the prettiest feet I’ve ever seen decorated with a gold anklet and matching toe ring, and my mouth is dry in a second.
Glancing at my brothers, I see that they seem to be having the same shocked reaction. No one says a word as Cora starts to hum a song that sounds familiar, but I can’t immediately place. Tobias’s eyes are watering, but I’m not sure whether it’s from the pizza regurgitation or Cora’s banging body. Danny’s tongue darts out to lick his lips as she rests her weight on one side, cocking her hip. It’s a sexy move and one she has to be conscious of, but I find that I don’t give a fuck that she’s doing this on purpose because I could look at Cora’s smooth skin and curves all day, every day, and never get tired of the view.
Without any evidence of hurry, Cora replaces the items in the refrigerator, revealing what appears to be a delicious sandwich packed with cooked meats, tomatoes, and lettuce. She pivots and reaches out for the plate before swaying back out of the kitchen,. My eyes drop to the curve of her breast and the tightest little nipple pushing at the lace.