He shrugged. “I could ask you the same. What are you doing sneaking around down here?” His gaze moved behind me to the cellar. So he had noticed.
Think, Kaylor. Think.
I stretched a smile across my lips, praying he couldn’t hear the lie forming. “I thought wine might be nice for dinner. We haven’t had a meal all together since I moved back. With all the stress, I figured we could use…normalcy.”
He lifted a single brow, unimpressed.
“I got overwhelmed by all the bottles,” I added quickly. “I was about to see if Kreed had a preference.”
“Ah.” He brushed past me, opening the cellar door again. “I got you.”
Great. A chaperone. Exactly what I didn’t need.
I stayed in the hall, pulse hammering as my phone buzzed with a message in my palm.
Everything okay?
I typed back a quick yes and shoved the device into my back pocket just as Mason reappeared, a bottle in hand.
“See?” he said with a smirk. “Not that hard.”
I forced a smile, sweet, easy, harmless. But inside? I was already pulling threads of my plan tighter. I had learned how to play the game.
27
KAYLOR
So now I was planning a fucking dinner I didn’t have time for. What crap had I gotten myself into?
I knew next to nothing about cooking a meal for four men who could eat a cow and still have room for seconds. At best, I could make boxed mac ’n’ cheese without burning it. Sometimes. It was clear I needed help. I went to the kitchen in search of the only person who would be able to save me from this catastrophe I’d created in a spur-of-the-moment decision. I was basically self-sabotaging myself.
I followed the clatter of pans to the kitchen, the smell of rosemary and roasted garlic wafting through the air. Amelia stood at the island, sleeves rolled up, apron tied neatly at her waist, and wielding a slightly unnerving chef’s knife. Something told me, despite her grandmotherly looks, Amelia knew how to use that knife for more than slicing a roast.
Clearing my throat, I plopped onto one of the counter stools where I usually ate. “Hi. Any chance that’s dinner?”
Amelia smiled. “It might be.”
She always cooked for us, well, for the Corvos, and therefore, as an extension for me. But we never ate together. We all just showedup in the kitchen when we were hungry, and Amelia would hand us a plate. “Would it be too much work to have dinner in the dining room today?”
“Not at all, dear. I think that is a lovely idea. That big room sits empty most of the time, especially after the Mrs. passed. It’s a shame. I’ll get out the fancy plates too.” She winked. “Is there a special occasion we’re celebrating? It wouldn’t be your birthday, would it?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. I just thought it would be nice for us to have at least one meal together. My mom used to always do mandatory Sunday dinners.”
“That’s a fabulous idea.”
God bless this woman.
Kreed didn’t seem all toothrilled about having to sit down as a family and have a meal. Mason was enjoying every second of my stress. Maddox looked uncomfortable, ready to escape. And Raine, to my surprise, showed up. I didn’t even know how he heard, but if I had to guess, Mason and his big mouth. He’d been way too excited about the idea of us sharing a Sunday dinner, and now Amelia planned to make it a weekly occurrence.
Just what had I started?
The scrape of a chair sliding across the floor pulled my attention back to the table.
“What are you doing here?” Kreed asked flatly as Raine strolled into the dining room, taking his seat at the head of the table. The chair at the other end, across from him, was empty. No one extended an invitation to their father, thank God. I hoped Donovan was a no-show.
“The food smells good,” Raine replied, then jerked his chin toward Mason. “He told me to come for dinner.”
I glared at the youngest Corvo. He only grinned at me, flipping a card between his fingers.
