"This is impressive," Gabe remarked.
"I wish I could take the credit, but my sisters must have done it."
"You'll have to thank them for me."
"I will."
As he gazed at the heaping plate in front of him, Gabe asked, "Do you guys eat like this every morning?"
I laughed as I poured a glass of orange juice. "While she does cook every morning, that"-I motioned to his plate-"is strictly for your benefit."
"I'm going to have to stop by her store. These scones look amazing."
"They are. Everything Kennedy makes is amazing. She has a natural talent for it, plus she spent a summer in Paris back in the day, taking classes at Le Cordon Bleu."
"That's impressive. She never wanted to leave here and try her hand in the big city?"
"She did. She lived in Chattanooga for a few years but really didn't like it, so she came back home."
Gabe smiled. "You Hart women are small-town girls through and through."
I took the box of French toast out of the Rafferty's bag. "Pretty much. I really want to travel more. We do a yearly beach trip to the gulf, but I want to see other places and other cultures." I motioned to the French toast in front of me. "Taste French toast in Paris, or maybe crepes."
"Paris is a gorgeous city. Great architecture." He winked at me. "And lots of sinful diversions."
"I'll pass on those." When I took my first bite, I pinched my eyes shut and moaned in ecstasy.
"That good, huh?" Gabe questioned, amusement vibrating in his voice.
"Practically orgasmic."
"Now I'm regretting that I didn't get any for myself."
"Do you want to try a bite?"
"Sure."
After spearing a piece on my fork, I started to hand it over to Gabe when he leaned in and opened his mouth. Ah, so we were going to play it that way. Fine. I could do that. I could totally feed him some of my French toast. It wasn't like it screamed foreplay or anything.
When I brought the fork to his lips, Gabe took the tines between his teeth and slid off delicious morsel. As he chewed, I found myself unable to look away, still holding the fork frozen in mid-air. When his tongue darted out to swipe off the excess powdered sugar and syrup, heat burned between my legs.
"That is pretty fucking amazing French toast," he replied.
"Yeah," I so eloquently muttered.
Gabe grinned. "You better hurry up and eat it before it gets cold."
"But I'm warm now." At the realization of what I'd just said, I jerked my hand back. Oh, I was warm all right. My face felt like an inferno because I couldn't believe what I had said. "I mean, it's still so warm. The French toast is so warm."
"I'm glad."
"How did you manage that?"
"They gave me a heated sleeve."
"Ah, I see." Since it was past time for a conversation change, I quickly said, "Tell me something, do you always write songs in odd places?"
"Sometimes. It really just depends on where I'm at when the mood hits." He grinned. "I will say that last night was the first time I ever wrote in a public restroom."
"Any porta-johns?"
"No, smartass," Gabe muttered through a mouthful of bacon.
"Do any of your siblings write songs?"
"My oldest brother, Micah, did, but that was back when we were doing more praise music."
"Wait, you were in a Christian praise band?"
"If I said yes, would that be so shocking?"
"Duh. Of course it would. After all, you're the guy who said he wanted to see more of me while ogling my boobs."
"Then you can just be shocked because that's what Jacob's Ladder originally was-a Christian band with crossover potential."
"Ah, now the biblical reference in the band's name sakes sense. Of course, it would have made even more sense if it was just you and your twin brother, like Jacob and Esau," I remarked.
Gabe's brows popped behind his coffee mug. After he took a sip, he said, "So you know the biblical story?"
"Contrary to the opinion of some people around here, I'm not a total heathen, and I do know my Bible."
"I'm very impressed."
I laughed. "Very few men are ever impressed by that."
Staring intently at me, Gabe replied, "Well I'm not all men."
No, you sure as hell aren't. Most men couldn't make me wet from eating a piece of French toast off my own fork. I cleared my throat. "Speaking of twins, tell me about your brother." When his expression slightly darkened, I said, "Oh, is there some hidden sibling rivalry there? Who is the Jacob, AKA your father's favorite?"
"Wow, you really aren't letting up with the biblical ties, are you? Next you'll be asking which one of us is the Esau, AKA the hairy one."
I giggled. "I can't help it. Aunt Sadie really went all out with the Bible study when we were kids." Cocking my head at him, I couldn't help asking, "I bet you're both Esaus, but you get manscaped to look metrosexual."
Gabe snorted. "There is no manscaping going on with me."
"Bullshit. Your eyebrows are most definitely too symmetrical to not be plucked or waxed."
"I don't consider having my eyebrows done manscaping."
Pointing my finger at him triumphantly, I cried, "Aha, I'm right."
"No, you're not, at least not about me."
"And how is that so?"
"While I might have my eyebrows done, my chest, dick, and balls are completely untouched by grooming utensils."
"Interesting."
"Eli got used to waxing his chest when he was doing musical theater in high school and still does from time to time. He also has one of those electric clippers to trim back his dick and ball hair."
"Um, ew, I didn't need to know that."
"You asked if we were Esaus."
"Yeah, well, I didn't expect such an in-depth answer about your brother. I mean, you totally just violated his privacy."
Gabe snorted. "Eli doesn't have a sense of privacy. If he were sitting here, he would have told you himself-maybe even shown you."
"He's pretty extroverted, huh?"
"Oh yeah. Extremely extroverted."
After hearing Gabe's description of his brother, I thought about how different the two of them sounded personality-wise. "Is it hard for you having such an outgoing twin?" I questioned softly.
At first, I didn't think Gabe was going to respond. When he finally did, I got the very curt reply of, "You could say that."
I pondered his response while spearing my last piece of French toast. "Would you like to elaborate on that?"
Gabe shot me a look. "With all your questions, I'm starting to feel like I'm doing press for the band."
"I'm sorry if I seem intrusive. I'm just trying to get to know you better." After chewing thoughtfully, I asked, "Isn't that what you do when you hang out with someone?"
"My version of hanging out is watching a movie or playing Xbox."
"And you never talk to the person you're with?"
"Talk during a movie? Oh hell no. That's a deal-breaker for sure."
"What if it's a movie you've seen before?"
Gabe shook his head. "The only reason you should be talking in a movie is if you're repeating a favorite line."
"I'll keep that in mind."
We went back to eating in silence. Finally, Gabe sighed. "Okay, yes, at the risk of sounding like a jealous prick, it's both a blessing and a curse to have a brother like Eli. I've always felt like I was a little bit in his shadow. I'm not the oldest or the youngest, so it's always felt like I'm in some weird middle child limbo."
"You're the Jan Brady," I mused.
Gabe grinned. "Yes, you could say that, except it's Eli, Eli, Eli, instead of Marcia, Marcia, Marcia."
"I get it. I'm the Jan Brady too, except I'm the second of three dark-haired girls, rather than blondes. In my case, Kennedy and I seemed to get our roles reversed. For some strange reason, I was always the mother hen to her and Ellie, and Kennedy was the one doing anything and everything to stand out."
"That is interesting." Gabe swiped his mouth with his napkin. "As for standing out, I think that's why songwriting appealed to me so much. It was something Eli had no talent for. Sure, he can play more instruments than me, he can sing better than me, and he can entertain people better than me, but he can't write songs."
As I processed Gabe's words, a thought came to my mind. "Is that one of the reasons your writer's block hit you so hard? It wasn't just about getting the songs for the album, it was about failing in front of your family-more specifically, in front of Eli."
Shifting in his chair, Gabe widened his blue eyes at me. "Holy shit, you really get me, don't you?"
With a shrug, I replied, "Aunt Sadie would tell you I'm a natural empath. Somehow I'm able to read people."