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“You asked me what I was eating. I couldn’t even speak. I just handed you my oatmeal cookie like an idiot.” Moving in closer, he put his hands on each side of the counter behind me. The space heated up around me.
“That oatmeal cookie was the first thing I ever ate that you’d made.”
He laughed. “I never told you the truth?”
“What?”
“My Nana had really baked those cookies, but you came back the next day for more so I begged her to help me learn how to make them.” His thighs rubbed against mine. If I weren’t holding the bowl of chocolate between us, his whole body would have been on mine. “Nevertheless, you’re the reason I enjoy cooking. My love for you and food have been the only constants in my life. The second batch of cookies were my first time being in the kitchen.”
I parted my lips, but couldn’t think of anything to say.
“So promise me that you’ll actually give me a chance. I’m not smooth or rich like your Mr. Stone, but I’ll cook your panties off if you let me.”
I chuckled, thinking of how Chase had proclaimed Gabe was doing just that.
“You think I’m funny?” He licked those lips again, and I stirred.
Maybe there is something between us.
“Okay. I’ll give you a chance.” I dipped my finger into the bowl, gathered chocolate, and lifted my finger to his lips. Warm chocolate dripped from my finger into the bowl. Gabe’s eyes remained on me as he leaned in and sucked on my finger. The wet suctioning of his mouth and his intense gaze on me made me squeeze my thighs together to calm down.
The kitchen door slammed open. Chase stormed through.
What the fuck?
I hurried and put the bowl on the counter.
Chase charged for Gabe.
I got between them.
Gabe moved me out of the way with his arm. I stumbled into the sink. The edge hit my side. Pain bit at my hip.
Chase swung.
Gabe ducked and slammed into Chase’s center like he used to tackle quarterbacks when we were in high school.
“No!” I screamed.
Both guys crashed into the swinging kitchen door and dropped to the floor. Gabe grunted as Chase punched him in the chin.
I heard a crack.
They tumbled in the hallway and rolled out into the living room, knocking over a shelf as they fought. My candles fell and smashed into the ground. Glass burst. Scented wax broke into pieces all over the carpet.
“Troy!” Where the hell is Troy? “Chase! Gabe! Stop!”
“Let us in!” Dawn knocked on my door.
The security bar was still on it, which meant Chase had used his secret route through my closet.
I ran to the door and unlocked it.
The women rushed in, along with my bodyguards and theirs. It was a madhouse. It took at least six guards to break Chase and Gabe up. Plus, Dawn and Wendy kept getting in the way, but somehow the guards completely separated the men.
“Oh my god, Chase.” Lucy gasped next to me.
A knot the size of a softball swelled on Chase’s forehead. Blood dripped out of his nose while Gabe looked three times worse. Clearly, Chase had fighting skills since he boxed almost every morning, but Gabe had definitely held his own. Any guy growing up in South End was well versed in hand-to-hand combat, because a boy who loved cooking and wearing an apron in the hood was labeled gay and picked on more than most. Gabe had fought and won so much that eventually he’d earned many gangsters’ respect.
