Page 1 of Four Stepbrothers for Christmas

Chapter 1

Becca

"Chef Becca, would you please join us in the office?"

A deep, masculine voice that couldn’t possibly belong to anyone but Isaac Tyson sounded through the kitchen intercom, adding an unplanned twist to my otherwise predictable Tuesday afternoon.

I wiped my hands on my apron, shooting a glance at the clock—3:47 PM. An odd time for a meeting, considering I'd normally be knee-deep in food prep for tomorrow. Curiosity piqued, I untied the apron and hung it on its hook before exiting the kitchen.

As I walked down the hallway, my athletic shoes silent on the marble floor. The offices of FourSight Marketing were bustling as ever, men and women in sharp, professional garb zipping around purposefully. I stuck out a like a sore thumb in my kitchen clothes, but that was more than fine with me.

I reached the door to Mr. Tyson’s office quickly. I took a deep breath, put on my best professional face, and pushed it open.

All four of my bosses were there—Isaac, Vinnie, Archer, and Luke – the heads of FourSight Marketing, a play on their joint, four-way ownership.

Each man could be a model for a different kind of cologne ad—Isaac for the sophisticated, Vinnie for the charming, Archer for the edgy, and Luke for the quietly intense. But I'd been here long enough to keep my wits about me, even in a room that could double as a GQ photo shoot.

All were impossibly sexy, tall and handsome and seemingly built in just the perfect way to drive me wild. Walking in and having four sets of eyes on me was enough to make my breath hitch, to make my pussy clench. I’d grown accustomed to the appeal of the four men since beginning my employment at FourSight, but there’s only so much handsome in one room a woman can take.

Isaac sat behind his desk, leaning back in his chair. He looked like a buff version of Brad Pitt, with piercing green eyes framed by wire-rimmed glasses and short, military-style blonde hair. He was a man of few words, with an air of leadership that felt both welcoming and intimidating at once.

"Chef," Isaac began, his voice snapping me out of my thoughts. "Please, have a seat."

I took the offered chair, interested in this unexpected meeting. There was an unspoken formality in the room that seemed almost like a prelude, and I found myself both intrigued and slightly apprehensive about what would come next.

I crossed my legs and straightened my spine. "Is everything alright with the menu?”

Isaac chuckled, a sound as smooth as aged scotch. "The menu is excellent as always. We actually wanted to talk to you about something else."

Vincent, or Vinnie as he preferred, was standing next to him. He was a couple of inches taller than Isaac, with dark brown hair kept short but stylish. Of Italian descent, his features were defined yet soft, charming and approachable. He was the company's people person, always quick with a smile or a witty comment. He leaned forward in his chair, flashing his easygoing smile. "Yeah, don't worry, this isn't a critique session for your culinary skills."

In another corner of the room was Archer Gallo, silent and brooding as always, gave a nod of agreement. One of Vinnie's younger brothers, he was more rugged and beefy, with a shaved head, full-sleeve tattoos, and a well-groomed beard framing his brooding expression. Despite his tough exterior, something about his presence hinted at a highly focused, perhaps even slightly obsessive personality.

Luke, Archer’s twin and ever the observer, simply met my eyes, reassuring me without words.

Isaac leaned back in his chair, interlocking his fingers as if he were carefully choosing his next words. "We'd like to extend an invitation to you to accompany us to our mountain cabin for a short retreat—five days. We want to take some time to brainstorm and strategize away from the daily distractions of the office."

I blinked, processing what he'd just said. A mountain cabin? Five days? My mind spun with questions I dared not ask out loud. Like, why couldn't these incredibly capable men cook for themselves?

"I'm assuming I'll be responsible for all the meals?" I ventured, asking for clarity.

"Exactly," Isaac nodded. "We'll cover the costs for your transportation, and in addition to your regular salary, we're offering a generous bonus for your time." He wrote something down on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

The numbers Isaac offered were, indeed, generous. Tempting. I felt a magnetic pull toward the offer, but something compelled me to establish boundaries first.

"Would I also be expected to function as a maid?" I asked, straightforward as always. "Because if so, I need to clarify that my responsibilities will begin and end in the kitchen."

Vinnie laughed softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "No, Chef, you won't be required to moonlight as a housekeeper. We have a cleaning crew that takes care of the place. Your domain would solely be the kitchen."

Archer shrugged when I looked at him, as if the matter were already settled in his mind. Luke nodded in agreement, his eyes meeting mine. The quiet understanding in his gaze somehow reassured me more than any words could. He was cleaner-cut than his twin, no beard, and only one visible tattoo—a tribute to their late mother, if I recalled correctly. He exuded a quieter intensity than his brothers, a subtle undercurrent of depth and perceptiveness. He always seemed to be watching, listening, as though he were perpetually gathering information and assessing situations.

I leaned back, processing. A part of me wondered what the dynamics would be like. I was used to interacting with them in professional settings, bound by the structured environment of the workplace. What would it be like in a casual, more personal setting? The thought was both intimidating and exhilarating.

As if sensing my hesitation, Isaac spoke again. "We'd completely understand if you're not comfortable with the idea, Becca. But we trust you, and honestly, we couldn't think of anyone better suited for this."

“There’s more,” Vinnie added.

“More?”I asked, curious.

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