Page 222 of Sin Bin

Logan tuned out the ensuing conversation about the playoffs, his thoughts lingering on Jupiter. There was no doubt in his mind that fate had brought them back together, and he couldn’t be more grateful. Sometimes it scared him just how much he needed her. He’d shared parts of himself with her that he’d never shared with anyone else, including the men at this table. He’d opened himself up to her because he loved her and trusted her in a way he’d never trusted another human being. He trusted her with his secrets, with his deepest fears and insecurities. She gave him solace from the demons of his past. She was his saving grace, a soothing balm for his battered soul.

He tuned back into the conversation as Reid pushed his empty plate away, patted his stomach and asked, “So what’s for dessert?”

Hunter chuckled. “What makes you think I’m serving dessert?”

Reid grinned. “You always do.”

“Not this—”

“Hunter?” Juliette interrupted, poking her head through the doorway. “Should I bring out dessert now?”

A burst of laughter swept over the table.

Hunter smiled at his young housekeeper. “Give us a few minutes, s’il vous plaît.”

“Certainement. Would you like me to take your plates?”

“Non, merci.” Hunter smirked at the others. “We’ll let our guests clear the table. They don’t get to eat and run.”

Juliette giggled, her gray eyes sparkling at him. “As you wish.”

After she left, Viggo grinned at everyone. “I nominate Reid to clear the dishes.”

“Why me?” Reid protested.

Viggo shrugged. “You’re the only non-bilingual person at this table.”

“Not true! I am bilingual!”

Three pairs of eyebrows shot up. “What other language do you speak?”

Reid flashed a cocky grin. “I speak the language of love. Just ask Nadia.”

The others laughed and clowned him.

When the hilarity died down, Logan said to Hunter, “You’re gonna have to email your Ossobuco recipe to me so I can attempt to make it for Jupiter.”

“I have a better idea,” Hunter countered. “Make her something that you already know how to prepare. Maybe one of your favorite Latin dishes. Cooking for a woman is incredibly sweet and romantic, but the gesture will mean more to her if the dish has special significance for you.”

Logan pursed his lips thoughtfully, pondering the suggestion.

“He’s right,” Reid said. “Nadia knows that spaghetti was my favorite meal growing up, so she loves it whenever I make it for her. Your dish doesn’t have to be super fancy or complicated. As long as it comes from your heart, that’s all that really matters.”

“Ahem,” Viggo coughed into his hand. “It also needs to taste good.”

Reid grinned at him. “That’s rich coming from a guy who can barely boil water.”

Viggo ducked his head, a sheepish grin on his face. “I grew up in a household with four women. Learning to cook never really seemed a big priority.” He peeked up from under his blond lashes. “Did I mention that Scarlett’s an amazing cook?”

Everyone laughed.

“She’s also a busy rock star who’s gonna be on the road as much as you are,” Hunter reminded him dryly. “She won’t always be available to cook for you.”

“Nor do I expect her to.” Viggo brought his glass to his mouth. “Fortunately I’m rich as fuck and can afford a personal chef.”

The group burst into laughter and guffaws as Viggo grinned and knocked back his wine.

Hunter stood and topped off their glasses, then raised his own in a toast. “To friendship and brotherly bonds that go beyond the ice. To the start of playoffs and another chance to become the champions we know we are.” He raised his glass higher, his eyes gleaming. “To the motherfucking Denver Rebels!”

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