Game Saver - BJ Harvey Page 0,55
off and this is nowhere near that level.
“How I have four single sons is beyond me,” Marcy laments, pulling Abi away from my side and hooking an arm around her shoulders, leading her down the hallway. I catch Rick’s eyes just as he rolls them before turning and disappearing down the hall behind Jamie.
“Let me get you a drink. You’re probably gonna need it if you’re going to survive Thanksgiving with Abi and her brothers,” he warns, leading the way towards the brothers and—hopefully—an ice-cold beer.
An hour later, we’re all sitting around a large oval dining room table, Rick quickly saying Grace before Abi’s brothers descend on the huge spread of food covering every inch of it.
Watching the mayhem with a grin, I turn my head when Abi leans into my side. “I’ll warn you now, it’s first in, first served whenever food is involved here. You wouldn’t believe how quickly I learned that lesson with four brothers who I swear can eat their weight in food,” she whispers, her lips curving into a wry smile.
“Good to know,” I reply, scanning the huge amount of plates, all piled high.
“I’m serious, Cade. Stock up, because there won’t be any leftovers. It’s like survival of the fittest, Cook-style.”
“As opposed to Thanksgiving, Carsen-style, where the food prepared by caterers is abundant, excessive, and so far from home-style cooking it’s not funny?”
She snorts loudly and covers her mouth with her hand. I quirk a brow, watching her eyes dance as she struggles to compose herself.
“Seems we are from very different worlds,” she says before suddenly—and weirdly—tensing.
My hand darts out to her thigh under the table. “Abi?”
She opens her mouth to reply but before she can answer, we’re interrupted by Cohen. “Are you two going to eat or whisper to each other all day?”
Abi opens her mouth to reply, but Jaxon interrupts. “At least it would be better than what we saw her eating last time.” He grins over the table at her, a surprised—and somewhat amused—chortle escaping my mouth.
Abi huffs and glares at her brother who, along with Bryant and Cohen, smirks at the two of us.
“What was she eating?” Rick asks, and it’s then my life flashes before my eyes, imagining not one, not even four, but five Cook males stringing me up by the balls and cooking me for Thanksgiving dinner.
“You don’t wanna know,” three out of the four brothers reply in unison, all of them shooting me mock death glares before grinning at their sister’s horrified face.
“I want to know,” Jamie says, leaning towards us, his demeanor screaming menacing, not ‘big softie’ like Abi said.
“Do you like Cade?” Jaxon asks him, his lips twitching.
Marcy giggles, and Abi’s cheeks flame red. She’d be the last person I’d ever imagine to get embarrassed over sex talk, although maybe the threat of having her Dad find out about her deep throating my cock in her living room is where she draws the line.
“I did like him, but now I’m thinking I won’t for much longer,” Jamie muses, but there’s an edge to his voice that I can’t quite read. It’s enough to have me prepared for anything: a punch, a brawl, death by older brother . . .
Deciding that offense is probably my best line of defense, I fall back on my deeply engrained manners to help move the conversation on to a far less dangerous—for me—topic. “Marcy, this food looks amazing. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Oh you’re welcome, Cade. Thank you for coming,” she replies brightly, nudging her husband’s arm with her elbow. “Such lovely manners, honeysuckle.”
I struggle not to laugh at her outrageous term of endearment for her husband, but considering she calls Abi ‘precious,’ I shouldn’t be so surprised. I wonder whether she calls the guys muffin, sugarplum, pumpkin, or angel? If she does, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep a straight face around them.
“Marcy tells me you’re a doctor, Cade,” Rick says between mouthfuls.
I finish chewing before taking a drink of my beer and answering him with a grin. “I’m an Emergency Medicine Specialist at North Western.”
“I dated a nurse from there once,” Jamie announces.
Abi looks at me, her eyes wide, and I know just what she’s thinking.
“As long as her name wasn’t Mac, we’ll be good,” I reply with a laugh.
“Why?” he says, eyeing me up suspiciously.
“Because she’s my best friend’s wife and if you’d dated her, it might make future gatherings awkward.”
“Nah, I think her name was Sophie. It wasn’t serious. Just a few months about