SWNOVELS HUGE 3D: Chapter 4
My stomach growls as I flip through the channels. There’s nothing good on, and I’ve already run out of my secret stash of snacks I keep in my closet. It’s ridiculous. I should just go downstairs and make myself a sandwich. It is my house too, after all.
But the guys’ voices pierce through my thoughts, teasing me. I can only imagine the stupid shit they’ll say now that they have me alone in the house with no one to back me up. Especially once I’m making a sandwich, of all things.
It’s not just the irritating comments that are keeping me from my dinner, either. Drew’s fingers brushing against me in the car earlier sent a not so innocent thrumming straight down below. I bite my lip, unable to help myself. It was so weird, so wrong, but I can’t pretend that it didn’t leave me thinking about him and his brothers for the rest of the day.
I grit my teeth, determined to outlive my hunger. I’ll just have to deal with it until everyone else is asleep at least. Right?
Starting from the guide, I scroll through the channels all over again, hunched over my bed until I realize someone is calling my name downstairs.
“What the…?” Peeking my head outside the door, I listen again.
“Mills! Hello?”
I clear my throat, realizing it’s Dane. “Yeah?”
“Dinner’s ready.”
It’s hard to fight the urge to laugh. They made dinner? And I’m the fucking Queen of England. “Uh, okay then,” I call back down. Whatever the case may be, I have to check it out. It may be microwaved popcorn for all I know. That’ll give me ammunition for years to come!
I check my hair in the mirror to make sure I don’t look like I’m wearing a bird’s nest on my head, before slowly opening the door and walking downstairs.
The smell of roasted chicken hits me immediately, making my stomach growl even louder now. I walk into the dining room and my jaw practically drops to the floor. Am I living in a dream or something?
The table is covered in that kind of food that I would’ve expected Mom to prepare, not Dane, Dylan, and Drew. A big roast chicken is in the middle of the long table, surrounded by big pots of steamed veggies, mashed potatoes, and even a gravy boat. The basket of rolls is steaming, and I find myself damn-near drooling looking at everything.
Shock runs through me. This was all prepared by them? I had no idea they could cook, much less something this nice. My eyes immediately follow Drew, who’s setting the table. His thick, corded muscles flex under his t-shirt as he leans down and places all the silverware on either side of each plate. He even manages to make chores sexy. I have to remember to breathe.
In comes Dylan, with the wine bucket full of ice and two bottles of Richard’s best wine. The urge to tell him off for taking their Dad’s pride and joy leaves me just as quickly as it came. I could use some wine to get through this dinner, that’s for sure.
“Here, have a seat,” Dylan says as he pulls out a seat in the middle of the table for me.
Without saying a word, because what the hell could I possibly say to all this, I sit down and allow Dylan to help scoot me in. All this domesticity and the sight of the three of them handling things like grown ass men, well, it’s just too much for me.
As the other two make their way back to the table, a nervous giggle escapes my throat, but it doesn’t stop there, and I start laughing uncontrollably.
The three of them exchange a look. “Did I miss something?” Dane asks with one eyebrow raised.
I wave them all off, finally the laughing subsides some. “It’s just… I mean, c’mon! You guys! All this,” I say, gesturing to the food. “I guess I never imagined you being so domestic.”
Dylan snorts but Dane just shrugs, leaning forward to cut into the chicken. “Well, we did have to fend for ourselves with just Dad around for a while. When he worked late, we had to figure out how to feed ourselves. Sandwiches and microwave meals only get you so far, you know?”
The blood drains from my face in an instant. I completely forgot that, and now I feel like a total bitch for even saying anything. Here they are, cooking an entire meal for all of us, and I’m sitting here ribbing on them for it. Now, who’s the jerk?
I clear my throat and nod. “Right, well, uh, it smells really good. Thanks for cooking. I figured I was going to have to make something myself.”
“And when were you planning on doing that? It’s already after eight,” Drew says, serving himself some potatoes with a smirk in my direction. “Or were you going to wait until you had the kitchen to yourself?”
I grab a roll and start buttering it. “Something like that,” I mumble. The other two laugh and shake their heads.
It doesn’t take long before my plate is full, and when I take the first bite of chicken I nearly melt into a puddle. It’s so juicy, so delicious and perfectly cooked, that my eyes flutter shut. “Wow. This is really good.”
“Thanks,” Dane says with a smile, taking a bite of his own food.
“Yeah, yeah. Food’s delicious. Let’s move on, shall we?” Dylan chimes in, tapping the side of the wine bucket. “I’ve got Dad’s vintage red right here. What do we say we crack it open?”
“Hell yes,” Drew says, thumping his fist on the table.
I shrug my shoulders, but secretly I’m waiting on my glass as well. A nice glass of wine should go great with all this food. Even in front of the guys.
Dylan pops the cork and starts filling up our glasses, settling back into his chair with a huge smile. “To Dad. For being the biggest wine snob we know!”
“To Dad.”
“To Richard,” I add, clinking glasses with the three of them across the table as best as I can.
—
“More wine?” Dylan asks, holding up the second bottle toward me.
I look down at my empty glass and shrug. “Sure, thanks,” I say as I hold up the glass with a flourish. It’s silly to think that I was so worried about coming down here and running into the guys. Like, of course, I’m going to, so why be so worried?
I sip the wine, relishing the way my brain seems to open up more and not feel the need to repress everything, every thought, and feeling. I know it’s my inhibitions slowly being peeled away, but for the first time, I don’t mind it.
Scraping the last of my food onto my fork, I take a bite and lean back, grabbing the glass and taking another long sip for good measure. “I have to admit, guys, that was pretty damn delicious.”
“Anything for you, princess,” Drew laughs, draining the last bit of his wine.
I roll my eyes but laugh anyway.
“It’s a pretty nice night out…” Dylan begins, nodding his head toward the back door.
“…it would be a shame to waste it. Why don’t we take a quick dip in the pool?” Drew finishes, looking directly at me.
I swallow hard. It just so happens that my bathing suits are all in the washer at the moment, along with everyone else’s—I threw them in as a favor to my Mom, this afternoon. But they’re both right. It would really be such a shame to waste a nice night like this. “I’m game,” I say, finishing my wine before pushing away from the table.
We make our way out to the back deck where the moonlight is shining on the placid surface of the pool. Not a cloud in the sky and all the stars seem to be shining extra bright tonight—or maybe it’s just the wine.
Dane’s the first to shed his clothes, jumping in wearing just his boxer-briefs, letting out a loud whoop before he goes under. Water explodes upward, showering the rest of us as we shriek.
Dylan’s next, wiggling his eyebrows at me before diving in too, clad only in his underwear. I try to pretend I’m not waiting for Drew, but he’s standing closer to me than the other two were, and I can see the gleam in his eyes. He’s not getting in until I do.
My underwear isn’t so different from my black bikini. I don’t look away as I peel my shirt up and over my head. I quickly kick off my jeans and walk over to the diving board while the other two already in the pool cheer me on. Part of me says that maybe mixing two and a half glasses of wine and a large meal with diving into the deep end probably isn’t such a good idea, but my wine soaked brain doesn’t really care.
If anything goes wrong, at least I have my three big stepbrothers here to take care of me. That’s what they’ve been doing if I’m honest with myself. The driving me around. The cooking me dinner—all of it has been for my benefit.
I position myself just like Richard taught me and dive in as gracefully as I can, the water hitting me in a rush as I sink beneath it. A moment later I’m emerging slowly, flipping my head back like I always see the women do in movies, letting my long hair fan out and throw water every which way.
“I give it an 8,” Dylan jokes, swimming past me.
“At least an 8 and a half,” Dane says.
“That was a total ten and you know it!” I laugh, shoving water at both Dane and Drew who’s now hopped into the pool, too.
But I’m the little sister, and a split second later water is coming at me from all sides it seems until someone has swum between my legs and lifted me up onto their shoulders. I desperately hold on to the broad set of shoulders and look down to see Dane laughing as he carries me around.
“Chicken fight!” Dylan yells, trying to hop up on Drew, but Drew just shoves him off as soon as he makes it halfway up.
“No way, man. You aren’t riding on me like a damn horse. Besides, I bet we can knock Milly off easy.”
I put my hands on my hips and stick my tongue out at him. “That’s what you think.”
After being pushed into the water more times than I can count, I finally give up, laughing as I swim away from them. All the alcohol is thrumming through me, my body feeling heavier now after splashing and playing around so much. I shake the water from my ears and swim up to the far edge of the pool, in need of a reprieve.
Grabbing hold of the cement and tiled edge, I lean my head against it, catching my breath, enjoying the coolness against my face. The water moves behind me or maybe I’m just so tired that I imagine it. I close my eyes and tell myself it would not be a good idea to fall asleep right here.
There’s more movement behind me and this time I know I’m not imagining it. And when someone moves the swirling dark cloud of hair away from my neck, I freeze, a bolt of insane electricity coursing through me as lips kiss the soft wet skin where my neck meets my shoulder.