Page 39 of Destined for Dreams
Chapter 11
Cori
Cori spun around the kitchen and pointed at Micah.
“How much longer on the mashed potatoes?” she asked with an urgency that could have made some people think a bomb was about to go off.
Lucas’ twin brother was a halfway decent cook himself and had offered to help when he saw how frazzled she was this afternoon while trying to get Thanksgiving dinner ready. There were a thousand things to do and little time left to do them.
“Give me five minutes,” he said, pulling the large boiling pot off the stove.
“Don’t forget to add butter and milk.”
He gave her a wry look. “I promise I’m fully capable of handling potatoes.”
“He really is.” Emily finished filling a basket with rolls. “Not as good as you, but he’s a solid second place to anyone else I know.”
Micah narrowed his eyes at her. “See if I take you to any more rock concerts.”
Emily’s expression turned pained. “Please don’t make me choose between you.”
“Just get the rolls on the table,” Cori ordered.
Already, almost thirty guests had arrived. She was more than grateful she’d set a later time for dinner so that it wouldn’t start until six in the evening—only fifteen minutes away. It had given her the extra time she needed to get everything ready. They’d had to cook two turkeys stuffed with dressing, two hams, dozens of rolls, five different vegetables including sweet potatoes, the rest of the desserts, and appetizers. The last part was so that guests like Kerbasi stayed away from the main meal while waiting.
“On it!” Emily raced out of the kitchen with her breadbaskets.
Cori went back to work slicing the ham.
A couple of minutes later, Micah finished with the mashed potatoes and divided them into several serving bowls. With so many guests, they’d had to put an extra long table in the living room to accommodate the overflow. Even then, they’d have Emily and the teenagers eating separately in the den.
“Do you need me to carve the turkeys?” Micah asked.
“Yes, please.”
He pulled the electric carving knife out and set to work. With nephilim speed, he moved much faster than her. If she chose immortality, would she ever become like that? She couldn’t even imagine it.
Cori grabbed the platter with the ham she’d just sliced. Next, she balanced the second one in a way that proved she’d never worked as a waitress, but she had a death grip on them, so they probably wouldn’t fall. “I’m taking these out. You can bring the turkeys when you’re ready.”
“No problem,” Micah said, casting an amused glance over his shoulder. “Don’t drop those.”
“I won’t.” She hoped.
He laughed and went back to work, totally comfortable in his jeans and death metal t-shirt in faded black. It was always strange seeing a more “hip” version of Lucas. Micah had left his long, blond hair loose about his shoulders in casual disregard, and he had his guitar tuned up, ready to play after dinner. Some of his band friends had shown up as well. It wasn’t just Cori’s food the guests were excited about but also the later performance.
She reached the dining room table and did an odd pose that involved kicking one leg up in the air to get the first ham set down carefully. After righting herself, she blew out a breath of relief before heading to the living room to place the second. Some of the guests were milling around in there and watched as she found a spot for the next platter.
Kerbasi lifted his nose into the air, sniffing. With the sharp, black suit he wore—far too overdressed compared to everyone else—and his long black hair slicked back, he almost looked suave and sophisticated. “That smells good. Perhaps you should allow me to taste test it before the others to be certain it is as delicious as it appears to be.”
“Don’t even think about it.” Cori glared at him. “If you so much as touch anything on this table before it’s time to eat, I’ll chop your fingers off.”
He clenched his fists. “You wouldn’t.”
It wasn’t easy to hurt someone like him, but she’d found out fingers were a weak point on immortals. They could potentially be removed, though for him they’d grow back. Cori had no idea if she could really do such a thing, but if ever there was an immortal worth testing her mettle against, it would be Kerbasi.
“Try me,” she warned.
The guardian took a step back from the table. “You are cruel.”
