loud. Not when you’re sneaking up on me like a biker ninja.”
“Biker ninja?” Frost laughed. “Gotta say, I’ve never been called that before. Think I could add that to my resume?”
“You need a resume when you’re a ninja biker?” I chided.
He shrugged. “Probably not. I guess it’s always good to have, though.”
I shook my head and turned back to the fridge. “I thought I had thirty minutes before you guys started invading the kitchen.” I grabbed a loaf of bread and set it on the counter next to the stove with the eggs.
“Thought I would come in and see if you needed any help.”
“How are you going to help me when you don’t know how to cook?” I laughed.
“I figure I can chop some shit for you or something.”
“Maybe you should add that to your resume, too. Chopper of shit,” I suggested.
“I can only do that if you let me help you.”
I set the potatoes I had grabbed from the drawer on the cutting board. “Well, start with this shit to chop.”
“Potatoes?” he asked.
I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Yes, potatoes. Then when you finish those, you can mince up an onion.” I grabbed an onion and set it next to the potatoes.
“Whoa, whoa,” he laughed. “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. That’s a lot of shit chopping.”
I shook my head. “Maybe we should stop calling everything shit.” I grabbed a knife and set it next to the potatoes. “Try not to cut any of your digits off. Pie is expecting a gourmet meal.”
“Fuck Pie,” Frost grumbled. He grabbed the bag of potatoes and ripped it open. “He’s only in it for the food.”
I laughed and crouched down to find a frying pan in the cabinet. “At least he is upfront about it.” I grabbed two fry pans and set them on the front burners. “I changed my mind. Start with the onion first.”
Frost dropped the potato in his hand and reached for the onion. “This shit is going to make me cry, isn’t it?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” It totally was.
One onion and ten potatoes later, Frost had dried his eyes and made it through the chopping.
I dumped a glug of olive oil into the pan and waited for it to heat up.
Frost dried his hands on the kitchen towel and tossed it over his shoulder.
That man standing in the kitchen with a towel draped over his shoulder was a surprisingly sexy sight to behold. He was like a kitchen bad boy, ready and willing to do whatever I asked of him. Well, whatever I wanted him to chop, at least.
“Your pan is smoking, darlin’.” He nodded to the pan with a smirk on his lips. “Not much of a cook, but I think that’s not a good thing.”
I twisted the dial on the stove to turn down the burner and moved the pan off the heat for a second. “That just means the pan is ready.” And too hot.
“So, sleep okay last night?”
I eyed him warily. “As well as one can sleep while sharing a bed with someone else. Pam’s a snuggler.” I wrinkled my nose and grabbed the bowl of chopped onions. I dumped them into the pan and moved it back onto the heat.
Though I had laid awake for an hour trying to figure out what I was going to do about Royal. I had a plan, but I didn’t think it was the greatest one. And, I didn’t know if I was going to get very far with it.
The man standing by me was the reason it wasn’t going to work.
Pie had been joking about pursuing me because I could cook. Frost’s disapproval of Pie’s statement wasn’t a joke at all.
Frost watched me.
Not just since I had moved into the clubhouse. When I danced on stage, I could sense when he was in the club. I could easily search him out, and his gaze would never waver from me.
It wasn’t a creepy gaze, though.
It somehow made me feel grounded. It made me feel safe.
Not that I ever really felt like I was in danger since I had started working at Sultry Knights, but it was like Frost gave me a calm I didn’t know I was missing.
“I thought you guys were going to rotate sharing the bed?”
I shrugged and stirred the onions. “We were, and then Julia said she has a bad back and all this bullshit. I just sleep with Pam because I just don’t want to listen to