Well, it seemed I wouldn’t be called upon to ride to the rescue. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but those sausages are about to burn.”
Robin started and wheeled around, placing St. John behind him as if to protect the young man. I wondered if either of them realized how telling that was.
“Bloody hell. How long have you been there?”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “About half an hour?”
“You might have said something.”
“Anything in particular? You two were rather engrossed, you know.” The toast had popped up, and I gingerly placed it on a plate and blew on my fingers before buttering it.
Robin snarled at me, looking remarkably like his older brother in spite of the difference in their coloring. “If Drew hadn’t decided he fancied you, I’d—”