“I bet they’re not the only ones.”
“That jealous streak of yours is showing again.” Heat slid through his voice, and after Gypsy’s talk with Miranda, she was sure her sister heard it too.
“Do you even know how to cook?” Gypsy asked. “You’d better not break something, like my stove or my fire alarm or—”
“It’s all good. I love cooking shows. I watch them to decompress when I’m on the road. There’s something so soothing about the linear order of it all.”
“You watch cooking shows? That hardly means you know how to cook.” Gypsy’s stress meter ramped up. “I don’t want you using my kitchen as a test laboratory.”
Wyatt glanced over his shoulder toward Miranda. “Why don’t you get your sister to sit her butt down while the kids and I make supper? Cooper, Belle, get in here.”
“Oh my God.” Gypsy’s mind filled with chaos. “No way.”
“A cook needs his sous chefs,” Wyatt said.
Miranda pulled her out of the kitchen. “If you’re not cooking, you’re in the way. That’s what Jack always tells me.”
“Amen,” Wyatt said. “Why don’t you get to that paperwork you’re always complaining about? This shouldn’t take more than an hour. Miranda…” He lifted his chin toward another grocery bag. “I picked up some nice wine. Gypsy thinks she likes beer better, but that’s only because she hasn’t had the really good stuff. You two open a bottle.”
“Stop bossing us around in my house.”
“Speak for yourself,” Miranda said, searching the bags. “He can boss me toward wine anytime.”
That made Wyatt laugh.
“I have had the good stuff,” Gypsy added. “And I still prefer beer.”
“Don’t worry, I picked up two six-packs of your favorite IPA,” Wyatt said. “Picked up something chocolate for dessert too.”
Gypsy’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He’d been paying a lot more attention at the bar during her chats with the locals than she realized.
Belle and Cooper ran in from the living room and chased each other around the kitchen. Giggles wafted into the air, and Wyatt and Miranda laughed.
“Hey, guys, stop.” Gypsy raised her voice to be heard over the commotion. “We’re cooking. There’s knives and a stove and—”
“Good Lord.” Wyatt stopped what he was doing, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and forcibly turned Gypsy toward the banquet they used as a table. “Chill out, sugar. I’ve got this.” He pushed her to a seat and gave her a warning look. “Now, stay put, or no dessert for you.”
The way he said “no dessert for you” made it sound like chocolate wasn’t the only thing he had in mind. Despite her stress over the situation, Gypsy’s body responded with a very affirmative, Yes, please.
Miranda sat across from Gypsy with a bottle of wine and brought along their empty wineglasses. To Wyatt, she said, “I’ve got her.”
She blew her hair out of her face, glanced at the kids, the counter, and back to Wyatt. “You’re cleaning up.”
He put his hands up in surrender. “You drive a hard bargain.”
Miranda was already pouring wine when Wyatt returned to the kitchen. Gypsy’s gaze hung on his wide shoulders and the way his ass filled out his jeans. She vowed to keep their relationship professional and her fantasies to herself, but there wasn’t anything she could do about her body’s simmering reaction to him.
“Better drink some wine.” Miranda brought Gypsy’s gaze back to the table. “If he catches you staring at his ass, you’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Shut up,” she said under her breath before she picked up the wine and drank.
The rich Merlot flooded her mouth with pleasure. It was smooth, with a nice finish. She still liked beer better, but this wasn’t bad.
She cringed as she watched Wyatt slide two stools up the counter facing away from Gypsy and Miranda and plop a kid on each. Then she watched Wyatt give Belle eggs to crack into a bowl and handed Cooper the bread crumbs to open and pour into Tupperware. Wyatt pulled a baking dish from a cabinet and unpackaged the steaks.
She sighed and shook her head. “My kitchen will never be the same.”
Once Wyatt and the kids were all in the flow, he started singing. Just a hum at first as he opened a few cabinets, pulled out measuring cups and assorted pantry items. Then he murmured a few lines to one of his newest songs, and heat tingled in Gypsy’s heart.
She’d never admit it to him, but the sound of him singing made her head swim in the clouds and her heart twist into knots. She loved everything about his music—the words, the melodies, his voice, his performance.
But what she admired most about him was the way he could drop into the bar and act like a nobody-local, picking up conversations with other regulars as if he wasn’t one of the most famous men in country music right now.
Belle’s voice joined his, startling Gypsy back to the moment. She may not have inherited Wyatt’s talent, but she damn well knew his songs, word for word. When Cooper banged a wooden spoon against the counter to the tune, Gypsy’s air leaked from her lungs. She planted her elbow on the table, closed her eyes, and dropped her head into her hand.
“Yeah,” Miranda murmured with a smile in her voice. “You’re fucked. May as well just give in.”
“Don’t even.” Gypsy lifted her head. There was no way anyone wouldn’t find this scene crazy sweet. Belle measured things and added them to a dish, where Cooper stirred them together.
“If I were single,” Miranda said, “I’d be all over that.”
“If you were a single mom, you’d stay as far away from that as possible.”
Cooper was telling Wyatt about the camp Gypsy had promised him. “It’s superhero camp. I get to go because I’m a big boy now. I pee-pee in the potty.”
Wyatt chuckled. “That’s a pretty big deal. I sometime struggle with that myself.”
Miranda started laughing, and Gypsy reached across the table and hit her arm. “Don’t encourage him.”
“What do you do at superhero camp?” Wyatt asked while his hands were busy breading the steak.
“We wear masks and capes, and we get to be any superhero we want.”
“Like lightning bunny or robo rooster?”
Cooper whooped with laughter, making Gypsy laugh too. “Noooo,” he drew out the word. “That’s just silly.”
“Belle, let’s get your hands dirty.” Wyatt stood behind Belle, his huge hands over her tiny ones as he guided her in breading a steak. “Good job. Your turn, Coop.”
Belle and Cooper traded places.
“Wow.” Miranda’s wrist made a small circle, swirling the wine in her glass, watching the admittedly mesmerizing scene in the kitchen. “He’d make a great addition to the family.”
Time to change the subject. “The only addition I’m interested in is another cousin for Coop. When are you and Jack getting on that?”
“We’re working on it.”
“Really?”
She grinned. “Really.”