I glance up just in time to see Letty plunk a plate down in front of me on the table, a scowl still firmly on her face.
"Since you wouldn't make it for yourself, I handled it," she mutters.
"Than—"
She stomps away before I can finish thanking her.
I shake my head, watching her go. Guess she's still pissed then.
I sigh heavily, glancing down at the tacos overflowing my plate. They look fucking delicious. I scoop one up, taking a big bite.
Oh.
Oh, fuck me.
It might be good. I don't know. I can't tell because I'm currently choking on the sheer amount of hot sauce poured on it. It's…a lot. A whole helluva lot.
"Problem?" Wade asks beside me, grinning like he knows something I don't.
"Is yours hot?"
"Nope." He crams a giant bite into his mouth for emphasis. "It's fucking delicious."
Oh, I am going to spank her gorgeous little…
I whip my head around, searching for her. She meets my gaze from the kitchen doorway, her chin up like she's just daring me to insult her cooking after I've already insulted her.
Fuck my life.
I hold her gaze, taking another giant bite.
She narrows her eyes at me, scowling.
Sweat trickles between my shoulder blades. My goddamn esophagus screams for mercy. But I just smile through the pain, shooting her a thumbs up.
She turns and stomps into the kitchen.
"She's going to murder you, bro," Wade says, chuckling.
"I know." I drop the taco, grabbing a bottle of water like my goddamn life depends on it. "Jesus Christ. I think she put ghost peppers in it."
I'm sure she hears his laughter in the kitchen.
Chapter Five
Letty
I'm fully prepared forWalker to show up in my kitchen again to give me grief about the hot sauce I put on his tacos—not my finest moment, but the man is infuriating. So I'm not the least surprised when I hear heavy steps behind me while I'm up to the elbows in hot, sudsy water.
"How were your tacos?" I ask sweetly, not even bothering to turn around. If I do, I'll just remember how hot he is, and then I'll feel guilty for the ghost pepper sauce I added to his.
"Fucking delicious," an unfamiliar voice growls.
I spin with a startled gasp, flinging dishwater everywhere. The man standing behind me isn't Walker. He's also way too close for comfort, eyeing me like I'm a steak.
"Uh…hi," I mutter, wiping my hands on my apron. "Can I help you?"
"I came to help you." He gives me what I assume he thinks is a charming smile, but it doesn't land as intended. Not when his eyes are lingering on my tits. "Toby Jackson." He holds out a hand toward me. "You shouldn't be cleanin' up after us all by yourself."
