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Setting the pot to brew, she started getting ingredients out of the fridge.
“We need to discuss what to do,” Jake started.
“It is obvious,” Max shrugged, downing his coffee in two gulps.
“I’m not afraid of a little blood. I won’t lose a bit of sleep if I have to dispose of a body or two.”
“Not another word,” Angelina ranted, waving the knife she was using to chop vegetables for omelets at them. “If I hear one more peep, my favorite knife will sink into more than peppers.”
Ben groaned, falling back onto his seat. “Shorty, honey, that is so hot.”
Max grunted. He moved from between Jake and Ben. Without a word, he walked around the counter. He ripped the knife from her hand and plucked Angelina off her feet.
“Max put me down. I swear to God I will put Cheez Whiz in every damn thing. You will eat it and tell me how wonderful it is.”
Ben jumped up, scooting his stool backward as he charged around the island. Jake cut him off before he could get to Max. Standing nose to nose, no one spoke as the tension in the room skyrocketed.
Max nudged his lover with his hip. Jake stepped aside just enough for Max to wedge Angelina in between them. Ben stepped back, intent on dragging Angelina to him. The tips of Max’s mouth tilted up right before he tossed her at him. The testosterone party ignored her squeak of surprise as she went from one hard chest to another. Ben caught Angelina as they stumbled backward onto the stool. Clutching her tight, he glared at Max.
“She is yours,” Max’s quiet tone commanded attention as he stood between Ben and Jake. “He is mine.”
“What? You two tried to make her your third?” Ben asked before turning his attention to the woman in his arms. “You into that kind of thing? No judgment on their skills, but you don’t need two men to do what I can do.”
“Jake is mine,” Max growled.
“I see what you mean,” Angelina shivered.
“So worth it,” Jake winked.
Ben grunted and hugged her closer to him.
Angelina was in shock. She was still asleep and dreaming. It was the leftover tequila talking. There was no way she was sitting on Ben’s lap with his arms around her, dressed in his shirt, while Max looked smug, and Jake looked like he had just won the lottery. Tequila shots have moved to the never-again list.
Max moved to the stove, running a loving hand over it before turning on the burner and placing a pan on it to heat.
Ben sent her a questioning look.
“Max is in love with my kitchen.”
“That better be the only thing of yours he is in love with.”
“Nope,” Jake said. “The rest is for me. I do have to share some with his mistress.”
“He cheats on you, and you’re okay with that?” Ben looked at him incredulously.
“I call his restaurant his mistress,” Jake quickly corrected.
“What does all of this have to do with my Angelina?”
“I’m not your anything,” Angelina huffed.
“Before she was your girl, she was ours. And before you get your boxers in a snit, it wasn’t in the way you think. I recruited her to be my fake girlfriend.”
“And you were okay with that?” Ben asked Max.
“Lesser of two evils,” Max mumbled as he sauteed the peppers she cut up.
“Just listen,” Angelina laid a hand on his chest.
