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All Wound Up

Page 63

“This is what happens when you get old and take too many hits,” Barrett said, standing to follow him.

“Fuck you. And I can still put you down.”

“You can try.”

Tucker shook his head, grinned and stopped in the kitchen to grab three more beers. He pulled Aubry into his arms and kissed her, lingering for a long, satisfying kiss, but not too long. The last thing he wanted was for his dick to get hard. His brothers would never let him live that down.

When he pulled away, she smiled up at him.

“I like your brothers,” she said, laying her palms flat on his chest.

“If you do, you’re the only one. Besides my parents.”

She laughed and patted his chest. “Go outside with them.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind hanging in here to help you.”

“You can help when it’s time to cook the salmon and make the sides. I’ve got this covered right now.”

“Okay.”

He kissed her again, unable to stop himself from deepening the kiss, pulling her tighter against him.

“Hey, you two. Knock that off,” Barrett said. “We need beer out here. You can make out later.”

Aubry pulled away. “Go.”

Tucker smiled at her. “Yes, ma’am.”

He grabbed the beers and headed out back to the deck, where Barrett and Tucker had already grabbed chairs.

“Can’t keep your hands off of her, can you?” Barrett asked. “Not that I blame you. She’s pretty.”

“She’s more than pretty,” Flynn said, accepting the beer Tucker handed him. “A doctor, too, huh? Barrett told me about your trip to the ER. She’s the one who treated you?”

Tucker sat in one of the chairs and popped the top on his can of beer. “Yeah. She’s a hell of a lot smarter than I am.”

“Yeah, well, who isn’t?” Flynn winked at him, then took a long swallow of beer.

More than accustomed to nonstop insults from his brothers, Tucker ignored that one from Flynn.

“Are you gonna be able to make Leo’s game tomorrow?” Barrett asked him.

Tucker nodded. “It’s a day game, and early enough before I have to report to the stadium that I should be able to see most, if not all, of it.”

“We’ll hold a seat for you,” Flynn said. “Unless some hot mom shows up. Then you’re on your own.”

Tucker laughed. “Always thinking of family, aren’t you, Flynn?”

“You know it.”

“Where are you two headed after this stop?”

“Flying out to San Francisco to look at some property for Flynn,” Barrett said.

Tucker raised a brow. “Are you looking to buy a house, Flynn?”

“Eventually. Things are pretty settled with the Sabers now, so I might consider that. We’ll look at houses. But this is commercial property.”

“Really. Are you thinking of investing?”

“He’s thinking of opening a restaurant,” Barrett said.

Tucker turned in his chair to face Flynn. “No shit.”

“Thinking about it.”

“I had no idea you were even interested in doing something like that. And why?”

Flynn shrugged. “I like food.”

Tucker laughed. “Come on. No bullshit.”

Flynn leaned forward in his chair, rolling the can of beer around in his hands. “It’s something I’ve been toying with for a while now. San Francisco extended my contract and considers me a franchise player. I’m staying put there, and I want to put my signature on the place. Plus, I seriously like food. And I can cook, assholes.”

“But you wouldn’t be the chef there or anything,” Barrett said.

“Of course not, dipshit. You hire an experienced chef to run your restaurant. But it’s a way for me to stay connected to the city.”

Tucker was impressed, though he shouldn’t be. As the oldest Cassidy, Flynn had always had the smarts, the leadership ability and the ambition to do anything he wanted in life. That he also loved football had been an added bonus for the family.

“Do you need investors?” Tucker asked. “If you do, hit me up. I might be interested.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Tucker stood. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting hungry. I’m going to head inside to help Aubry with dinner.”

Flynn got up. “Let’s all go help.”

“You can all cook,” Barrett said. “I’ll put myself in charge of drinks.”

“Taking on the hard tasks again?” Tucker asked as they walked inside.

“You know me. Always willing to fall on the grenade.”

Tucker shook his head and followed his brothers inside.

DINNER WAS A ROUSING SUCCESS, THOUGH AUBRY knew she and Tucker couldn’t take all the credit. Flynn had pitched in, and despite Tucker giving his brother a hard time, she had to admit Flynn knew his way around a kitchen. He’d decided to put himself in charge of the grilled vegetables. She’d handed them over to him, and he’d sliced them, seasoned them and prepared them with meticulousness, then baked them until they were a golden, crisp perfection.

She leaned against the counter, watching in awe.

“How did you learn to do that?”

He shrugged. “Our mom is a great cook, so you sit around talking with her enough, you pick up a few things. Plus, I’m a big fan of food and I hate takeout. So I’ve practiced at home.”

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