Page 40 of Talk About… Dramay
I gasped, grabbing a chocolate chip and launching it at him. The peals of his hearty laughter hit me right in the chest. The sound was so full of joy and familiarity.
His laughter cut off and he was moving in front of me.
“Oh, Little Bird, don’t cry,” he said gently as he swiped my tears away. I was startled.
When did I start crying? God, I was such a damn mess.
“Sorry, I didn’t even realize I was,” I whispered, the sound shaky.
Warm arms encircled me, pulling me into a hard chest. I expected it to be Roman until he moved to my side, the scent of tea and honey calming my jagged edges.
“We’ve got you, Princess,” Lane promised, arms tightening in a reassuring hug as Roman tangled his fingers with mine.
“You guys are good for her,” Brandon said, looking proud and a bit misty eyed before turning back to the cookies as the timer went off. “Now, in or out, Roman?”
My beta watched me, eyes flickering to Lane and looking hesitant. There was a flare of jealousy there but he swallowed it down.
“I’m a shit baker, I’ll leave you three to it,” he promised, leaning down to capture my lips in a kiss that had me squirming before he walked outside.
“Damn, that was hot,” Lane whispered in my ear. “If I kiss you, would you react like that, little omega?”
My breath caught. That wasn’t said for show, but to work me up. Did he find me as attractive as I found him?
I turned, letting a small smile form on my face.
“I don’t know, beta, we’d have to try,” I said, voice husky, but then a wooden spoon was thrust between our faces.
“Not in my kitchen, brats. Get to work,” Brandon said, muttering about betas and their charm. Lane grinned, but released me before putting on the apron my dad handed over. Mine was one I always wore, a cute black one with pink ruffles along the edges.
Lane’s had vines and lemons on it, the apron pocket a big yellow pouch with frills. He tied it on without an ounce of hesitation, earning a look from my dad that had me giggling.
“You look adorable, Lane,” I said, laughing harder as he fluttered his eyelashes and posed. The flash of a camera had us both looking over at my dad who was now grinning maniacally.
“Never know when I’ll need blackmail. Now, no more distractions,” he huffed, handing over a recipe card as he scooped a fresh batch onto the waiting cookie sheets.
He cranked up the music andIt’s Your Lovestarted to play. I started singing along and soon Lane’s smokey voice joined in. He wasn’t kidding about singing along and now I wanted to hear him sing to me and read to me in that sexy voice of his.
Brandon brought in his high soprano, pulling me into his arms and dancing me around the kitchen before spinning me back to Lane. The mood was light now, playful.
I was home again.
That thought had my smile growing wider and a huge weight lifting off of me. I couldn’t think about fake packs or confrontations, all I did was soak in the love and warmth of this kitchen as we made batch after batch of fresh cookies.
“Alright, now I’m starving,” Brandon said, wiping down the counter while Lane and I washed the dishes. “Man, it’s so nice to have you back. I don’t have to do the dishes anymore.”
“Don’t act like you did them, omega,” Adam rumbled as he passed him, swatting him on the ass.
“Ugh, now I know how you felt earlier,” I groaned, shielding my eyes by burying my face in Lane’s arm. The beta chuckled, brushing a kiss over my head as my dads flirted.
“We’ve got the pizza oven fired up. It’ll take a bit to get to temp,” Adam finally said as he pulled away.
“Oh my god, I forgot about that thing. It’s still going?” I asked, a bit shocked. We built it one summer and I swear we had pizza twice a week for months.
“It was built to last, Little Bird,” Adam said with a smirk. He always loved to build things by hand. Said it gave our home more character. I loved seeing his pride shining through, the familiar crinkle of his smile making me grin back. He was the only reason I survived on my own so long. He taught me how to fix just about anything and if I couldn’t, he was only a call away to walk me through it or tell me to throw in the towel and hire someone.
He was the kind of dad who would drop everything and hurry over to help if I needed it. If only I hadn’t moved away. Though, he’d threatened to come anyway a few times but I talked him out of it.
Brandon started pulling out a pizza making station. A huge bowl of dough, jars of sauce, and an insane amount of toppings.