I rub a hand down my face. “Mama, you can’t just take over their kitchen or boss around the imps. They serve Flint and Alder.”
“They don’t know how to cook a proper Southern meal,” she argues.
“What’s this?” Alder says, walkin’ over to the end of the island and pointin’ to a covered pot.
“Chicken and dumplin’s,” Mama answers proudly. “By the time I’m done, these four will know how to whip up a proper meal, mark my words. You two are growin’ boys. Need to feed all those muscles you’re sportin’,” she says, and Alder grins at her while Flint shoots her a wink that makes her blush.
“Swat my hind on a melon rind,” I mumble with a shake of my head. “Mama, I think it’s time to call it a night,” I tell her.
“Oh wow, this is delicious,” Alder suddenly says as he takes a bite, and then Flint is pushin’ his way forward to snag food for himself.
“Hot damn,” he says, his mouth stuffed full. “This is the best cornbread I’ve ever tasted.”
Mama practically preens like a peacock. “Well, thank you. It’s an old family recipe.”
Flint shoves another piece of cornbread in his mouth. “You can take over our kitchen anytime, ma’am. Food like this hasn’t ever been served at the table.”
If there was any doubt before that she liked these demons, Mama’s done for now. A wink and a compliment to her cookin’? I’d be surprised if she doesn’t try to drag me to a bridal shop before the week is through.
Mama fans her face, but I know it has nothin’ to do with the hot temperature in the room and everythin’ to do with all the satisfied groans comin’ from the two demons.
“Alright, that’s enough of that now,” Mama says in a false lecture before she walks over to snatch the cornbread tin from Flint. I swear, his bottom lip pops out in a pout.
“Y’all must be starvin’ after your long night of work. Go sit in the dinin’ room, and I’ll bring you some food. Can’t have you standin’ up eatin’ like a cow in a barn.”
Flint immediately perks up. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, already turnin’ on his heel and walkin’ off.
I roll my eyes before walkin’ over to Mama. I press a kiss to her flushed cheek. “Don’t stay up too much later,” I tell her. “You need your rest, and I’m sure you’ve been runnin’ these imps ragged.”
She waves a hand at me. “We’re nearly done,” she says dismissively.
“Mm-hmm,” I say, unconvinced, as I turn to follow Alder out.
The dinin’ room is a separate room right down the hall, and instead of bein’ ostentatious and overly large, it’s cozy, with a round glass table and a bay window that looks out to a fountain outside. Right now, it’s lit up with soft lantern lights that only turn on when the sun goes down.
I choose a spot between Alder and Flint, takin’ my boots off under the table. New boots are always good, but they’re a bitch to break in.
“Here, let me.”
I go stock-still when Alder reaches over and picks up my legs. He gently places both on his lap, successfully turnin’ me to the left so that I’m facin’ him. I bite my lip as his strong hands begin to knead my sore feet, only barely able to suppress a moan. Never mind. I couldn’t suppress it. Out it goes, like I’m fluent in ogre.
“Damn, that feels nice,” I say, my head restin’ against the tall back of the chair.
“You’ve been on your feet all night, every night since you started working at the bar,” Alder says, his thumbs pressin’ into my arches just right.
“I like workin’ there,” I tell him honestly. “I wasn’t sure if I would at first, but I really do. I like to talk to everyone. I like to demon watch,” I say with a chuckle.
“Believe me, Peaches, they’re coming to watch too,” Flint says, a thumb rubbin’ over his bottom lip as he watches where the leather skirt has ridden up my thigh from the way my legs are propped up on Alder’s lap.
“You mean some of the demons are checkin’ me out?” I ask, just to clarify.
“Of course they are,” he tells me. “Why do you think I stopped playing so much tonight? Some of them needed to be told to take a walk.”
My eyebrows go up in surprise. “Now who’s stakin’ a claim?” I joke, but inwardly, I wanna do a little happy dance. First Bob Grace, and now other demons? It’s good to know it’s not just me feelin’ a bit jealous with these two.
A trio of imps come in just then, and full bowls of gumbo are set in front of us. I have to force myself to slip my legs off Alder’s lap so that I can turn back to the table to eat, but it’s difficult. “Thanks for that,” I tell him as I scoop up my spoon and start diggin’ into the meal. Mmm. Delicious.
“I’ll rub you anytime, Medley,” Alder says quietly, and I nearly choke on my bite. I don’t think he’s talkin’ about my feet.
Please don’t let him be just talkin’ about my feet.
18
There ain’t a lot of talkin’ as the three of us finish off our bowls. Mama must’ve been chompin’ at the bit to get those imps to work with her, and now that she finally shoved her way into the kitchen, she ain’t ever gonna give up her claim. The food is certainly better than it’s ever been, though. Nothin’ can beat my mama’s cookin’.
I clear my bowl and lean back in my chair with a satisfied moan and a tummy pat. Both Flint’s and Alder’s eyes snap to mine, and Flint licks his bottom lip and adjusts himself.
“I thought we might start working with your scythe tomorrow,” Alder declares, and I pull my eyes from Flint’s molten gaze and look over to find a warm butterscotch stare
