knife was little more than a blur. Abby paused in the act of putting down the potato she'd just finished peeling, her jaw sliding to half mast in it surprise.
Cameron flicked a glance at her, waggled his eyebrows up and down, and grabbed another potato.
Abby bit her lip to keep from smiling and picked up another potato.
"Don't get so busy showing off you whack your finger instead of the potato, Fontaine,” Adrian drawled. “I expect finding a piece of you in her potatoes won't set too well with Abby."
"Bite me,” Cameron growled good naturedly. “Boy, I was doin’ this when you was still suckin’ your mama's tit!"
Jerico, who'd just returned, laughed. “Yeah, but he was still suckin’ tit when he was grown!"
Adrian grinned, sliding a glance at Abby. “Actually, I ain't seen no reason to quit. I'm pretty fond of tit."
"Your ma ain't beat you off, yet, mon ami ?” Cameron murmured provokingly.
"Knock it off,” Seth growled, but his eyes were gleaming with amusement.
Adrian shot Cameron a bird.
Cameron grinned at him. “No romance, mon ami ! I ain't ‘in’ to puffin’ cigars."
Adrian cupped his genitals in a crude gesture and mouthed ‘bite me.'
Abby pretended she didn't catch that, struggling with a mixture of shock and amusement to keep from laughing at their ribald ribbing. Seth rescued her by taking the potato and knife she held and finishing it. “We can finish up here. Why don't you go on out and relax?"
Abby didn't especially want to. As bawdy as their humor was, despite the fact that she found it a little too shocking to be completely comfortable, she still found it amusing. She also found the camaraderie between them intriguing and she didn't particularly want to be left out. In any case, she was the hostess, wasn't she?
She got up from her seat, but shook her head. Grabbing the pot now filled almost to the rim with cut potatoes, she moved to the sink to wash them and fill the pot with water.
Cameron, having examined the steaks, apparently decided he wasn't satisfied with the seasoning.
"Hey, man, don't get any of that shit on mine, you Creole bastard!” Adrian growled in a low voice. “The last time you seasoned the fucking steaks, I shit fire for a week...."
He broke off when Abby shut the water off.
Pretending she hadn't heard that either, she moved to the stove with the pot. It clicked when she turned the knob but didn't light. Adrian moved up beside her with the box of matches while she was looking around for them. Nudging her aside, he set the pot off the stove, grabbed the burners and removed them, and then opened the top of the stove. She held it up while he struck a match and lit the pilots.
"Sorry,” he murmured.
Abby sent him a questioning glance.
He shrugged. “I forget to watch my language."
Abby scanned his face. Objectively speaking, she supposed he wasn't as classically beautiful as Seth, but he was a damned good looking man for all that, and attractive beyond his dark good looks. “Actually,” she said, “I think I like that y'all are comfortable around me."
She realized as soon as she said it that she honestly did. They behaved almost like ... brothers—a family—throwing barbs at one another, but taking it good naturedly. And even though she hadn't felt comfortable enough to join them, they'd still made her feel like a part of it, not an outsider.
He grinned, displaying a dimple in his cheek that multiplied his sex appeal several times over and abruptly made her extremely conscious of the fact that she was surrounded by four men that each had more raw, animal magnetism in their little finger than any man she'd ever met before in her life.
Four of them.
What were the odds, she thought, bemused?
Or was it just her?
Setting the fire on high, she turned away from the stove and assisted in clean up. When the salad had been mixed and shoved into the refrigerator to chill, the potato peelings and vegetable discards disposed of, and the table wiped down,
Cameron flicked a glance at her, waggled his eyebrows up and down, and grabbed another potato.
Abby bit her lip to keep from smiling and picked up another potato.
"Don't get so busy showing off you whack your finger instead of the potato, Fontaine,” Adrian drawled. “I expect finding a piece of you in her potatoes won't set too well with Abby."
"Bite me,” Cameron growled good naturedly. “Boy, I was doin’ this when you was still suckin’ your mama's tit!"
Jerico, who'd just returned, laughed. “Yeah, but he was still suckin’ tit when he was grown!"
Adrian grinned, sliding a glance at Abby. “Actually, I ain't seen no reason to quit. I'm pretty fond of tit."
"Your ma ain't beat you off, yet, mon ami ?” Cameron murmured provokingly.
"Knock it off,” Seth growled, but his eyes were gleaming with amusement.
Adrian shot Cameron a bird.
Cameron grinned at him. “No romance, mon ami ! I ain't ‘in’ to puffin’ cigars."
Adrian cupped his genitals in a crude gesture and mouthed ‘bite me.'
Abby pretended she didn't catch that, struggling with a mixture of shock and amusement to keep from laughing at their ribald ribbing. Seth rescued her by taking the potato and knife she held and finishing it. “We can finish up here. Why don't you go on out and relax?"
Abby didn't especially want to. As bawdy as their humor was, despite the fact that she found it a little too shocking to be completely comfortable, she still found it amusing. She also found the camaraderie between them intriguing and she didn't particularly want to be left out. In any case, she was the hostess, wasn't she?
She got up from her seat, but shook her head. Grabbing the pot now filled almost to the rim with cut potatoes, she moved to the sink to wash them and fill the pot with water.
Cameron, having examined the steaks, apparently decided he wasn't satisfied with the seasoning.
"Hey, man, don't get any of that shit on mine, you Creole bastard!” Adrian growled in a low voice. “The last time you seasoned the fucking steaks, I shit fire for a week...."
He broke off when Abby shut the water off.
Pretending she hadn't heard that either, she moved to the stove with the pot. It clicked when she turned the knob but didn't light. Adrian moved up beside her with the box of matches while she was looking around for them. Nudging her aside, he set the pot off the stove, grabbed the burners and removed them, and then opened the top of the stove. She held it up while he struck a match and lit the pilots.
"Sorry,” he murmured.
Abby sent him a questioning glance.
He shrugged. “I forget to watch my language."
Abby scanned his face. Objectively speaking, she supposed he wasn't as classically beautiful as Seth, but he was a damned good looking man for all that, and attractive beyond his dark good looks. “Actually,” she said, “I think I like that y'all are comfortable around me."
She realized as soon as she said it that she honestly did. They behaved almost like ... brothers—a family—throwing barbs at one another, but taking it good naturedly. And even though she hadn't felt comfortable enough to join them, they'd still made her feel like a part of it, not an outsider.
He grinned, displaying a dimple in his cheek that multiplied his sex appeal several times over and abruptly made her extremely conscious of the fact that she was surrounded by four men that each had more raw, animal magnetism in their little finger than any man she'd ever met before in her life.
Four of them.
What were the odds, she thought, bemused?
Or was it just her?
Setting the fire on high, she turned away from the stove and assisted in clean up. When the salad had been mixed and shoved into the refrigerator to chill, the potato peelings and vegetable discards disposed of, and the table wiped down,
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