Page 12 of Daring the Defender

“Shel,” Axel says, his bright eyes pinging around the house, “tell me you didn’t clean this whole place.”

I shrug. “I needed something to do. And it’s a thank you for letting me stay.”

Reid sniffs the air and I can’t help but look at his bruised lip. “Is something cooking?”

“Oh!” I rush back over to the oven, grabbing the mitts on the way. Stuffing my hands into them I open the door, letting out a gust of heat. “I found enough ingredients to make a casserole. I thought you guys may be hungry after being gone all day.”

“Hell yeah, we’re hungry,” Jefferson says, following me into the kitchen. Reese isn’t far behind, opening the cabinet where they keep the dishes.

After I pull the first casserole out of the oven and set it on the counter, I turn for the second, Axel’s hand wraps around my wrist. “No one eat a thing. Not one bite.” He glares at the guys. Reid has a serving spoon already in the dish on the counter, steam rising from the surface, but pauses. “We’ll be right back.”

I set down the second one and stumble after him as he pulls me into the laundry room. “I know you’re used to doing things like this, but you’re not our maid or cook, you got that?”

“I know. But it was good to do something.” I was raised to serve. I’ve been doing it my whole life. It’s not a bad thing, but I see the dark glint in my brother’s eyes. He doesn’t agree. He views it as me giving too much of myself. But what else do I have to give?

“Just know that it’s not expected, okay? These animals can clean up after themselves, even if it doesn’t always seem like it.”

“Got it.” I push him toward the kitchen door. “I think you’ve tortured them long enough.”

He grins, and throws his arm around my shoulder as we walk back in the room. “Shelby gets to go first,” he says, grabbing the plate out of Jefferson’s hand and giving it to me. Reese offers me his fork, and Reid digs into the dish and scoops out a spoonful of chicken and rice.

I take a seat at the table and the guys follow with plates piled high with the casserole.

“Damn this is good,” Jefferson says, through a mouthful.

“So, Shelby,” Reese starts, his voice pure innocence, “you have anything we need to know about Axel? Embarrassing childhood stories? Awkward family photos?”

“Nice try,” Ax says, holding up a forkful of cheesy rice. “I’m an open book. No secrets here.”

“Come on, you have to have something on him,” Jefferson says, his steel gray eyes imploring. “Something better than his inevitable regret over all those tattoos.”

“He’s right about being an open book,” I comment, taking a sip of water, “probably too much so for the rest of the family.”

“Bed wetter?” Jefferson continues. “Got his ass beat for being a smart ass in high school?”

I shake my head, laughing at how desperate they are for dirt on my brother. I think on it and finally concede, “There is the legend about how Axel insisted on playing the camel in the Christmas pageant seven years straight, even when he outgrew the costume and my mother had to have it altered to fit.”

“Camels are cool,” Axel refutes, looking completely unfazed. “Fight me.”

“It has nothing to do with his ‘love’ of camels,” I say, using finger quotes. “The animals in the nativity didn’t have to sing, and Axel would doanythingnot to sing.”

“Damn straight,” he says. “I was the only highschooler in the stable.”

“That’s not the brag you think it is,” Jefferson says, pointing his fork at him.

“What about you?” Reid asks. “What role were you in the program?”

Axel snorts.

I shoot him a glare. “What?”

He rolls his eyes. “Shelby was the only role fit for her–an angel.”

“Always the good girl, huh?” Reid says, looking me up and down. “Seems right.”

My cheeks burn at the way he says ‘good girl,’ because it doesn't sound sweet at all. My brother must agree because there’s a hard jerk under the table and Reid flinches, cursingunder his breath. Axel, fingers wrapped tight around his fork, stares across the table at his friend.

Jefferson and Reese laugh while continuing to shovel food in their mouths. I have no idea what is going on but my brother can’t seem to get his attitude in check, but I’m thankful when the conversation shifts to their upcoming schedule.

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