Chapter Nineteen

When dinner didn’t materialize as promised, Suede took matters into her own hands. She never could ignore her grumbling stomach. Back on her feet again, she aimed for the hallway Pagan had taken, then thought twice. She knew her way around a kitchen. “Let’s make dinner, shall we?” she asked the gangly puppy at her heels.

The kitchen was a surprise. Snow peas, bean sprouts, shiitake mushrooms, broccoli, and bamboo shoots had been rinsed, sliced and drained and now rested in a large colander beside the sink. Pagan planned to make stir fry from scratch? Interesting, but not what she’d expected. Most men ordered out. This guy actually cooked with real food?

She checked for a steamer full of rice or a pan of rice noodles at the ready. When she found none, she got creative. This was right up her alley. To protect her tender fingers, she snooped until she found a box of nitrile kitchen gloves under the sink. Then she went to work.

In no time at all, thanks to Pagan’s astute preparations, Suede had a wok full of the diced, marinated chicken pieces she’d found in the refrigerator, now sizzling on the front stove burner. The vegetables went into the wok next. To that she added her own mixture of fish sauce, soy sauce, egg, and rice wine, then drained the linguine-size rice noodles that took her five quick seconds of prep time in boiling water.

By the time she garnished her masterpieces with slivered scallions, toasted almonds, and sliced boiled eggs, again courtesy of Chance’s brother, Suede was tired but content. Her thigh was killing her, but she’d proved she wasn’t a complete drain on this family. There was a small measure of satisfaction in that.

Dizzy from being on her feet for so long, she took a break to survey her handiwork. This meal wasn’t equal to the gourmet dishes by some of the great chefs in Hollywood, but it would feed two hungry men, hopefully three if Chance showed. Better yet, the guys could grab what they wanted buffet-style. She wasn’t up to setting a grand table with the pricey cutlery she’d spied in the drawer, though it was tempting. Rest. She wanted back in Chance’s bed and a quick nap before dinner.

The Sinclair kitchen was a foodie’s dream, stocked with utensils and culinary equipment a master chef would use, enticing for a woman who’d rather be behind the counter whipping up a batch of sour cream and onion pancakes than dealing with the drama of the celebrity world. Just the thought of all she’d endured with York, soured her empty stomach.

“Why ever did I stay with him?” she wondered out loud.

Gallo sat patiently under the table watching, his soulful brown eyes so expressive she thought he might actually talk. “What do you think, Gallo? Did we do good today or what?”

The dog’s big ears flopped with his one quick nod and a growly whine.

“You talk, don’t you?”

Another floppy-eared nod and a whine and he slid to his belly, his gaze fast on her.

Suede couldn’t resist. She’d never owned a dog, and this guy was too cute to resist. Off came the gloves. As carefully as possible, she eased to her knees and joined him. “Can you shake hands, I mean paws?”

His ears flopped as one big paw landed in her extended palm.

She squeezed his paw. “What else can you do? Roll over?” That would be so cool.

Gallo’s long nose twitched and over he went, scrambling to get back on his belly and feet, his eyes wide and expressive and... Expectant?

“Ha!” Suede nearly squealed. “I’m supposed to reward you when you do good, huh? That’s what you’re waiting for. You’re still learning tricks, but you’ve learned about treats, haven’t you? I know just what you’d like.”

She pushed to her knees, then jumped to her feet, going for a slice of that chilled roast in the refrigerator. Too fast. The kitchen spun like a tilt-a-whirl and down she went. Falling to the floor wouldn’t have mattered, but she landed on her left hip, and… ouch. Her forehead collided with the edge of one of the wooden chairs, and stars… Suede saw bright, spinning stars that weren’t connected to the overhead rafters.

The sound of deep male voices approaching worried her, but there was nothing to be done. Her energy had left her high and dry.

Chance’s brothers found her on the floor with Gallo sitting on her lap. “Gallo! Off!” Pagan roared as he dropped to his knees. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, no, he’s a good boy,” Suede said as she tugged Gallo back to her side. “St-stay b-boy.” Wow, that one little fall took the wind out of her. She lowered her head, sure she might still pass out, but swallowing hard so she didn’t throw up. “You were busy and I... I fixed dinner.”

“What were you thinking?” Pagan asked as one big hand cupped her shoulder. “You’re trembling, woman. I told you to go to bed.”

Suede lifted her chin at the caveman rationale. “I did, but I was hungry, and you were busy, and…”

“She did a right fine job,” another male spoke. That had to be Kruze. Suede could barely stand to meet his appreciative gaze. My goodness, Kruze Sinclair was as handsome as his brothers with that mop of black hair and those deep green eyes. He stayed at the door, his arm sprawled over his head while he gripped the doorjamb. Where did these guys get those massive shoulders and biceps?

Just great. Why look like a simpering female in front of one Sinclair brother when it was more embarrassing to fall on your ass in front of two? Could this day get any worse? Yes. Just lifting her head to look at these guys caused rolling, boiling chaos in her stomach.

Suede swallowed hard and pushed away from Pagan, not going to ruin her perfect dinner by hurling in the kitchen. Instead of getting out of her way so she could crawl, he hoisted her off the floor like a sack of potatoes, and she landed in his arms. He cradled her against him, the last place she wanted to be, if and when her stomach won.

Too much motion. Not helping!

“No,” she grumbled. “You don’t understand.”

“Be still. I need to look at that cut. You’re bleeding and Chance will—”

“I’m going to throw up. You have to let me down,” she croaked, her belly muscles already retching from the double whammy of being dizzy and the sudden change in altitude.

Pagan was a tall man, but he could run. Suede made it into Chance’s bathroom before she lost her cookies. By then, all she wanted was to be left to die alone from embarrassment.

“L-leave,” she ordered, already face down and choking over the porcelain throne.

But did he listen? Does any man listen to a puking woman? She lost track of him as her stomach ruined the end of what would’ve been a good day. Everything came up and out. By the time her traitorous body finished making her look like the weakest, most helpless woman on the planet, Suede was just that. To make matters worse, she started to cry, and once the tears started, Suede was done.

Kindly Pagan was still there, holding her hair like a loyal boy scout who didn’t know when to quit. He didn’t say a word as he flushed the toilet and ran the faucet. On one knee now, he tugged her against his leg, smoothed her hair and wiped her face. At least he’d used cool water to wet that cloth. Warm wouldn’t have done a bit of good.

Suede closed her eyes at his gentle care, weary of her life and the mess it always turned into. “Thank you,” she whispered so he’d know she wasn’t a complete ass.

“Shush now,” he whispered back. “You’re running a fever, and you’ve done too much for a woman in your delicate condition. I’m going to lift you now. Do you think you can handle it this time?”

“I’m not in a delicate condition.” That made her sound pregnant.

Pagan growled. “Don’t argue. I just meant you’re still recovering.”

Oh, that. She nodded, ashamed that he meant to carry her, but crawling would’ve been so much more demeaning. “I’m not pregnant,” she told him as he settled her butt on his knee, then lifted to his feet as easily as if he were lifting a child.

“I never said you were, but you’re not one hundred percent either, are you, Suede? Christ, you fell off a cliff yesterday. It’s a wonder you’re not broken.”

In no time, she was tucked into bed, leaning heavily against Chance’s pillow, and her adventure helping in the kitchen was over. Pagan pulled the blanket up to her chin as he sat at the edge of the bed. “You’re bleeding again.”

“I know,” whined out of her. Floor, just swallow me now!

Black eyes peered out from under his brows. “I meant your hip, not your head. I need to change the bandage.”

“Okay,” she whimpered as she rolled to her good side. Get it over with. “I just wanted to help.” What was that saying about good intentions? That they paved the way to hell? Taxi!

Pagan was as swift at changing the dressing this time as he was the last. In minutes, Suede was on her back again and exhausted. While he dealt with the cut on her forehead, she kept her eyes closed. Maybe he’d go away if he thought she’d fallen asleep. No such luck.

“If you’d like, I could braid a few cornrows on this side of your head. Maybe add some colorful beads. An eye-patch.”

Suede peered up at him. “What are you talking about?”

He winked down at her through his arms since both of his hands were busy, one cupping her head to hold her steady while the other smoothed a butterfly bandage over her latest injury. “You look like a pirate with your black eyes and bruises. Aye Matey?”

He almost made her smile. “I’m a fucking idiot,” she confessed in case there was any way possible that he’d missed that incredible talent of hers. Some people were piano or math geniuses. She apparently was best at messing up her life.

His brows collided in the same way that Chance’s did when she’d cussed. “Now Suede, my mother always said, if you can’t say anything nice, then—”

“‘Don’t say anything at all,’” she whispered the last of that well-known axiom. “I forgot. I’m trying not to cuss, but I don’t get it. You’re obviously former military. So’s Chance, but you guys don’t use bad language. What’s up with that?”

Pagan’s big shoulders quirked upward and his eyes stayed fastened to his fingers as he closed the first aid kit. “Now, don’t go turning us into saints. You haven’t heard me when I bash my finger with a wrench or when Chance drops a pine tree on his foot. We know the same expletives you do. Maybe more.”

“But you strive to be better.”

He winked at her then. “I don’t know about Chance, but not cursing is my way of keeping Mom alive in my heart. You would’ve liked her, Suede, and I have no doubt she would’ve liked you.”

There was something incredibly dear about these Sinclair boys who missed their mom. “You really loved her, huh?”

“Sure. That’s what kids do. No matter how big they get, they always love their mothers. Don’t you?”

Wasn’t that the question of the century? “I don’t know,” Suede answered truthfully. “My mom never had time for me. I don’t have warm memories of her.”

Pagan set the kit to the nightstand. “What you need to do is rest, Suede. Are you hungry at all? I’ve got to be honest, the dinner you fixed looks better than what I had in mind.”

She shook her head. “No, thank you, but save some for Chance, would you? He might show.”

Pagan cocked his head. “That’s what you’re hoping, isn’t it? That Chance comes back tonight. Didn’t he tell you he had work to do?”

She nodded, her eyes heavy and fading fast. “He did, but a woman can always hope.”

“Aye, aye Matey,” she thought she heard Pagan whisper from the doorway. “And it’s high time Chance stopped running.”