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“I’m sorry, but I have to start my job.” I give her an exaggerated frown.
Darla lowers Wren to the floor. “You’re fine. Sit down at the table.” Darla points at a table that’s off to the side. “I’ll grab a hairbrush.” Darla turns to leave the room.
“No, you won’t, Aunt Darla. This is a kitchen. You will not be combing hair, or braiding hair, or whatever.” Jenson comes over and greets me with a hug. Another damn hug. “Hey, Briar, welcome. Good to see you.”
“Thanks, Jenson. You too.”
“You’re such a stickler.” Darla rolls her eyes. “You need to make Briar something to eat. She only had a smoothie this morning.”
Jenson stares down at me. He’s tall just like Emmett. “Are you hungry?”
I shake my head.
“She will be in an hour,” Darla says.
“Stop shoving food down people’s throats, Mom.” Bennett puts his hand on Wren’s shoulders. “Let’s go back into the dining room. Your pancakes are probably cold.”
Wren crosses her arms. “Not unless she comes to do my braid like hers.”
Bennett glares at his daughter.
Darla laughs. “Hey, it’s payback for all the grief you gave me when you were her age. You and Emmett gave me anxiety with all your antics.”
I stand in the kitchen, unsure what I should do. I thought I was here to lead yoga classes, but at this point, it seems I’m supposed to braid a little girl’s hair and eat breakfast.
“Why don’t you head into the dining room? I can make you some eggs. How do you want them?” Jensen steps back over to the work area.
“Um…” Just the thought of eggs makes me want to vomit.
“I get it, but honestly, it’s better to make Aunt Darla think you’re listening to her.” He smirks.
Jensen is kind of cute in that clean-cut way. Maybe it’s his chef jacket and meticulous kitchen that makes me think of him as a guy who likes everything neat and orderly. Unfortunately, for some damn reason, I always want the bad boy.
“Oh, look who’s starting today.”
I close my eyes at Emmett’s voice behind me. Jensen laughs.
“Scrambled is fine,” I say.
Jenson nods. “Get out of my kitchen, Emmett.” He points at the door and directs orders to his staff.
Okay, there’s definitely something hot about watching him do that.
“Sorry, he’s off-limits,” Emmett says, his voice closer now, then I feel the heat of his body behind me.
“Whatever.” I circle around, managing to sneak by him and out the door, then I turn right to find the dining room.
Darla has Wren in her lap, braiding her hair while Bennett eats a plate of pancakes that I think must have been Wren’s since chocolate chips and whipped cream cover them. Then again, maybe he’s a man-child like Emmett.
“What’s up, Danson?” Emmett smacks his cousin on the shoulder and flips the chair around so he’s straddling it. Neanderthal.
“Come sit.” Darla pats the chair next to her.
I take the seat across from Emmett, who’s picked up a stray fork and is cutting into the pancakes Bennett is eating. I’m not sure why Emmett referred to him as Danson when he sat down.
“Grandma!” Wren moves forward, and her hair slips from Darla’s fingers.
This is the weirdest day of my life. I thought they’d show me the studio. I’d tell them my plans for the classes. They’d tell me my schedule. But instead, I’m being forced to eat eggs, and Wren is pleading with the brightest blue eyes, silently asking if she can come over to my lap. Meanwhile, Emmett is one step away from eating with his hands. Maybe I should’ve stayed in Chicago.
