The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,218

of them.

And I do.

Because I need them just as much.

I’ve finally found my real family. They’re kind and loving and genuine.

Everything a family should be.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Trinity

I’m met with the aroma of baking bread, coffee, and bacon when I walk downstairs. My mouth is already watering by the time I reach the kitchen and see Cass at the cooker.

“Smells incredible,” I tell him, sliding onto one of the bar stools in the breakfast nook so I can watch him while he cooks.

I never knew he was such a keen chef. But he’s a hedonist like me, and food is one of our weaknesses.

He turns, bathing me with a gorgeous smile as he takes me in from head to toe. “Morning, my beautiful mess,” he says.

I laugh, not even bothering to disagree.

My curls are all over the place, the shirt I found on the floor to cover up my nakedness before coming downstairs happens to be Apollo’s too-big vest, and I’m pretty sure I have at least five hickeys on my neck.

Don’t forget the fact that I barely had any sleep last night. I’m surprised I’m not walking with a limp.

“This beautiful mess needs coffee,” I groan, but Cass puts up his spatula in warning when I attempt to climb off my bar stool.

“What did I say about setting foot in my kitchen when I’m cooking?”

I quirk an eyebrow at him, but I stay where I am. I’ve had my ass pummeled with that spatula before, and I don’t think I can handle that level of sheer eroticism so early in the morning.

Not without coffee.

Not while Cass is wearing my cooking apron.

He gives me an evil grin, as if he’s reading my thoughts, and briefly abandons whatever heavenly dish he’s cooking to make me a cup of coffee.

“Are you saying I’m not capable of pushing a button?” I ask dryly, as he sets down a cup in the espresso machine.

“You shouldn’t have to,” he shoots back. “Not after what we put you through last night.”

I blush, and try to cover it up with my hands before he can notice. But he looks back just in time to see my cheeks turn red.

“Fuck, girl,” he murmurs, “Don’t make me come over there and give you something to blush about.”

I barely stop a giggle from spilling out, instead focusing on the coffee Cass slides over the marble-top island toward me. He tosses the bacon and onions he was frying into a large bowl and starts stirring it as he sends me another lewd smile.

Oh God…is he making a frittata again? I take a quick sip of coffee to wash down the saliva flooding my mouth. And I’m not drooling over the food.

Cass looks like he just walked out of a photo shoot. I know he doesn’t use product in his hair, so how can it look like he spent hours in front of the mirror teasing it into the perfect bed-head style?

Does it even matter that my apron has a pink unicorn on it?

No, it does not.

He rocks awsum.

“Now you let me get this in the oven, then I’m taking you upstairs and—” he begins.

“Breakfast will have to wait,” Rube says from the stairs.

We both turn, Cass with spatula raised, me with my coffee cup by my lips.

As soon as Cass spots Rube, he switches off the oven and starts untying the apron. “What happened?”

Rube looks grimly at me, and then flicks his fingers. “Best if you see yourself.”

My stomach lurches.

No.

No, no, no! I want to stamp my foot like a five-year-old. Can’t I have a little bit of normal?

Cass and I follow Rube up the stairs to Apollo’s room. It’s kitted out with a double bed, and a computer station that—to me, anyway—looks like something out of the Swordfish movie.

The computer area is the only part of his room that’s not chaotic. Everything else is partially submerged under magazines, surfing gear, or clothes.

“Do you ever let the maid in here?” Cass asks. He picks his way across the floor like he’s walking through a minefield.

“She was in here yesterday,” Apollo mumbles absently, and then pushes away from the table, pointing to one of three massive monitors.

Honestly, the only thing he’s missing is a hologram projector.

“What is it?” I ask, standing in the doorway. I don’t have a thing about untidiness…I don’t like computers very much. The most time I’ve ever spent on one was when I was copying the files for them off Gabriel’s laptop.

I guess maybe that’s why I don’t like them—they