And in the middle of it was Parker Hamilton. His t-shirt was almost slicked entirely to his body thanks to the heat, and it held firm to his strong back where the fabric flattened against his spine before it bunched right above his waistband. The tiny gap between the cotton and jean hinted at his tanned skin. I had to physically drag my gaze from that strip of skin.
I needed food before I had another cocktail...And I'd only had one.
"What do you want?" Parker asked without looking at me.
"I'm being nosy." I clasped my hands in front of me and peered around. "It's pretty hot in here."
"I didn't notice." His tone was dry. "Why are you here?"
"You can't throw me off that easily."
"I was hoping that was code for, "Five minutes, go away.""
"No chance."
"Raven? Go sit down and send Ry in here. I'm almost done."
"What did you make?" I asked, reaching up onto my toes. I never asked him to make anything specifically, and all he'd told me was that he was essentially cooking a buffet of things from the menu. I had no idea what to expect, and that was why I was peering at all the things beneath the hot light thingy on the other side of the kitchen.
"I need Ryan's help," he repeated, cutting through my nosing. "Five minutes."
One look at the concentrated furrow of his brow had me backing away. This was serious for him, and his passion somehow shone through in every word. If he needed my brother's help, I'd give it to him-begrudgingly, but still.
"Ry, he wants you," I said as soon as I stepped back outside. The jugs of the Pussy Pounder I'd made earlier were still holding strong on the table, although one round of drinks would kill the first jug.
Camille grabbed the jug before I'd taken my seat. She poured the red drink into all our glasses with such elegance that the orange slices I'd chopped up and added for extra flavor all plopped into our glasses, splashing the liquid everywhere. Red droplets splattered across the black, glass surfaces of my outdoor tables, and I wiped them up with a napkin.
Lani smirked.
"Make room!" Ryan said, carrying out a giant tray from the kitchen. He had to turn sideways to get out of the back door.
That drew a tiny wince from me. The idea was to have food served out here, too. It wasn't always a day from weather hell, after all...
Ryan put one tray on the table behind Camille. Parker brought up the rear with another tray that he set on the table behind me. The warm, homely smell of the Greek seasoning filtered through the air. Instantly, that deep part of me that always roused with the scent of what I counted to be home sprung to life.
My eyes flitted across the dishes of hummus and calamari until they landed on the gyros plate. The kebab-like meat took up half the plate, just dipping into the glob of tzatkizi sauce on the side of the plate. Pita bread that was obviously warm from the soothing scent of it was on the other side of the plate.
"I'll just take that..." I reached over and picked up the plate.
Both my brother and Parker hid a smirk.
Gyros was my weakness. Hell, if he had this done good, the rest of the menu could be screwed.
Wait, no. That was my stomach speaking.
I didn't pay much attention to the distribution of the other dishes across two tables as I tucked some meat and sauce inside a pita bread. The bread was so soft and fluffy, and there was no doubt that Parker had baked this earlier today. It just had that...light feeling that fresh bread had.
He watched me with amusement glinting in his eyes as I bit into the pita bread.
The classic, simple taste of Greece exploded in my mouth. Literally exploded. I was smack-bang in the middle of a freaking foodgasm, and if I were alone, I'd be moaning my way through it. It was so damn good.
"Good?" Parker asked, his amusement giving way to a hint of smugness.
I swallowed and dabbed the corner of my mouth with a napkin. "It's not bad," I answered.
Yes, it was good, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of finding that out just yet.
It didn't matter much, though. The upturn of his lips said it was good and he knew it.
The slight arch of his eyebrows told me he'd play this game if I wanted to.
"I think I just came," Camille muttered, holding a skewer with what looked like pork souvlaki on it. "Why haven't I eaten this before?"
"At least someone appreciates my skills." Parker glanced at her before sitting down between Lani and Ryan.
I flipped him the bird when Camille winked.
"Two dinners in one week," Ryan said, mostly to his plate. "What was I thinking?"