Page 18 of Under the Mistle-Foe

“I can’t freeload a meal for nothing,” I teased and followed him into the kitchen. Adam was hovering over the stove, stirring something in the pot.

“Dad! What did I tell you about staying out of my kitchen?” Remy grumbled and rushed over to steal the spatula from Adam’s hand. “Isn’t Uncle Rob supposed to be watching you?”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Am I some kid that needs to be watched?” Remy gave him a look which had Adam muttering, “Actually, don’t answer that.” He turned to me. “Hey, Jett! Glad you could make it! Yum, is that pie?”

He hobbled over on his crutches to get a closer look. With him owning the diner for many years, I was sure he could instantly see howamateur my baking skills were, but he didn’t point that out and nodded instead. “Apple pie. My favorite,” he said with a toothy grin. “Alright, let’s get out ofhiskitchen before he blows a casket.”

Adam gestured for me to place the items on the kitchen counter, then pulled me along with him. “But shouldn’t we help?” I asked and looked over my shoulder to find Remy waving us off, not even looking away from his prep work.

“Just let him be. He’s a stubborn one,” Adam said. Despite relying on crutches, he was practically speed-walking into the living room.

A snort greeted us. “And I wonder where he gets that from?”

Adam hobbled closer to the man who spoke and stole the remote from his hand before landing on the spot beside him and elevating his leg in front of him. “Tell me again why I put up with you when all you do isrobaway all the fun.”

The man rolled his eyes. “How are you not tired of making the same jokes after all this time?”

“How can I get tired when I’m a hoot?” Adam replied as he switched to the sports channel. “Jett, come sit. This pain in my ass here is Rob.”

“You mean the better version of you,” Rob retorted, which only made Adam snort.

I knew Adam had lost his wife a few years back, but I wasn’t aware that he found a new partner. Still, they seem like a good fit. “You two make a cute couple,” I said casually. Apparently, it was anything but casual as both their heads flung toward me.

“Me? And him?” Adam started, then faced the ceiling with a loud belly laugh. “Don’t give him any ideas. I know he won’t be able to resistall this.” Adam gestured a hand down his body.

Rob grabbed the pillow beside him and whacked him with it. “The only thing I’m unable to resist is the urge to throttle you,” Rob grumbled, then turned to me. “Don’t mind him. He’s so full of himself he can’t see left from right.”

They started arguing about who was the better catch between the two of them. I smiled as I watched them bicker like an old married couple, and I found it hard to believe they weren’t together.

A few minutes later, they were still debating their points, not even noticing me when I slipped out and made my way back to the kitchen.

Remy was leaning over to check the food inside the oven.From my current position, his ass, perfectly outlined in those sweats, was in my direct sight.

I tugged on the collar of my shirt.

Was it me or was it getting hot in here?

I told myself to look away, that it wasn’t proper to be eyeing my host, but my eyes remained stuck on his firm bottom. Then, suddenly, like he could feel the burn of my hot gaze, he spun around, catching me red-handed.

My eyes instantly flicked toanywherebut at him, finally landing on the counter filled with food covered with lids, probably to keep them warm.

I cleared my throat, trying to act casual as I walked over to the food and lifted a lid to take a peek. “It smells delicious in here.”

Remy’s hot eyes scrutinized me under his fogged-up glasses. I shifted under his gaze, but thankfully he didn’t mention anything and only hummed at my comment before returning to his cooking.

His actions were so smooth as he flitted through the kitchen, juggling between prepping, cooking, and even cleaning as he went. It was a stark contrast to my clumsy attempt at baking yesterday, where making one item had my kitchen looking like a tornado had run through it.

I was momentarily stunned watching him, and by the time I’d returned to my senses and asked if I could help with anything, he’d already finished making another dish.

He paused his chopping as he looked up at me with surprise, as if he’d forgotten I was in the room. Now I felt bad for disturbing him while he was in the zone.

“Uh, sure. Do you want to wash the lettuce for the salad?”

I quickly sprang into action, eager to be of some help, and grabbed the items out of the fridge. “Thanks again for inviting me. Nothing beats a homemade Thanksgivingdinner,” I said after I finished washing the vegetables and worked on assembling the salad beside him.

There was a beat of silence, then a soft, “Yeah, I’m glad you’re here.” If he’d said anything after that, I didn’t catch it with how loud the sound of my heartbeat was. It was a wonder Remy hadn’t pointed it out. I was so sure everyone could hear it.

We continued working like that, neither of us talking, my heart pounding harder with each second, and the heat of the kitchen warming me to the point I swore I was blushing anytime I sneaked a peek at Remy.

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