Page 216 of Sin Bin

Dusk was falling as they returned to the main house. Even before they entered the enormous chef’s kitchen, Logan was sniffing the air and groaning with pleasure. “God, that smells fantastic.”

Hunter grinned, walking toward the double ovens to check the Ossobuco. The bone-in veal shanks were slow cooked in a savory broth of meat stock, white wine and vegetables. They took about three hours to cook and were worth every second.

“I know Reid and Viggo will be showing up any minute,” Hunter drawled humorously, “so I made plenty.”

“Good call.” Logan plopped down on a stool at the massive center island and turned on the LED TV mounted above the wine bar. Hunter immediately took the remote from him and clicked off the TV.

Logan protested, “Hey—”

“You know I don’t watch television when I’m cooking. Cooking is therapeutic for me. I don’t like to pollute the experience with mindless background chatter.”

Logan asked the obvious question: “Then why do you have a TV in your kitchen?”

“Because I can.” Hunter put on some classical music and poured them each a glass of wine. Then he started taking out ingredients for the gremolata and risotto he usually served with the veal shanks.

“I don’t think my Ossobuco would turn out anywhere near as good as yours,” Logan said. “You’ll have to give me a different recipe. Something I can handle.”

Hunter chuckled, washing his hands at the sink. “You underestimate yourself. You know your way around the kitchen.”

“Not as well as you,” Logan said with a sulky grin. “It’s so fucking unfair how good you are at everything.”

“Not everything,” Hunter drawled.

“What aren’t you good at?” Logan challenged.

Hunter thought for a moment. “My dancing skills could use some work.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen you dance—”

“You’ve seen me waltz at formal events.”

“Yeah, and you’re pretty damn smooth, Fred Astaire.”

“True,” Hunter acknowledged. “But I’m talking about the kind of dancing you guys are so good at. The kind that gets women all hot and bothered.”

Logan paused with his glass halfway to his mouth, a slow grin stretching across his face. “You wanna make the ladies scream, Captain?”

Hunter’s mouth kicked up in a devilish half grin. “I assure you I’ve never had a problem in that area.”

Logan threw back his head with a shout of laughter.

Chuckling, Hunter set a cutting board on the center island and got to work chopping fresh parsley. “Tell me about Cynara.”

Logan almost choked on the sip of wine he’d just taken. “What the fuck?”

Hunter blinked. “What?”

Logan wiped his mouth. “Dude, you can’t segue from dirty innuendo to asking about Santino’s daughter.”

Hunter’s lips twitched. “My apologies for the jarring transition.”

Logan grunted and took a gulp of the dark red wine.

“But my request stands.”

Logan eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want to know about Cynara?”

Hunter lifted a broad shoulder. “Whatever you want to share. Beyond what you’ve already told me about her.”

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