Viv rolled her eyes. “Fine, yes. I made you both those ridiculous biscuits you love.”
Draco moaned, actually moaned out loud in a really long and lusty way. Sawyer pushed his hips forward a bit to make sure his mate hadn’t popped a boner in the middle of the kitchen. The biscuits were that good. And not gonna lie, Draco had a little bit of chub going on. Sawyer pushed him away and gave him the look. It was his patented response to eyebrow glare three hundred and eighty-six, and usually let Draco know in no uncertain terms that he meant business.
“Sawyer, I didn’t—”
“Pants. Now.”
Draco growled.
“I’ll stand guard over the biscuits.”
“Promise.”
“I swear.”
Draco turned and ran, and Sawyer glared at Viv as she fell into him while trying to get a glimpse of Draco’s ass.
“What? Don’t look at me like that. You’ve seen what he looks like. I’m human.”
Sawyer really couldn’t blame her. Plus, biscuits. He owed her at least a peek. But no more than that. He gave her the patented look and she put up her hands and backed away slowly.
“You look good today,” Viv said. “And hey, how about that cookout? Am I right? Did you see how much Draco’s dad ate? He said he’d give me a million dollars if I’d come cook for him.”
“Yeah? What’d you say?”
“I told Eduard what he said and Eduard said he’d give me ten million to stay. I took the ten.”
Sawyer grinned and held up his hand. She slapped it, and they did the complicated high-five routine they’d mastered after he’d agreed to eat— Sawyer couldn’t even remember what it was now. Something he’d thought would be gross but he ended up liking. It was some vegetable or another.
They both heard the thumping of feet coming their way. Viv laughed and turned for the oven.
“Incoming,” she warned. Not that Sawyer hadn’t already braced himself against the counter.
Draco hadn’t put on anything but shorts. He slid to a halt, inches from Sawyer, and looked at Viv pitifully. She handed over a plate with two steaming hot biscuits filled with bacon, eggs, and cheese.
“My precious,” Draco whispered before he glared at Sawyer and carried them out of the kitchen, curled protectively in his embrace.
Steal a guy’s biscuit one time and he never forgave you.
“You should take one out to Citron.”
Sawyer was too busy drooling over the plate she’d placed in front of him to understand what she’d said. “Wait. What?”
“You know. Yellow eyes. I’m tired of calling him that. So I’m calling him Citron instead.”
“He probably won’t like that.”
“Yeah, well, if he doesn’t, he’s welcome to come in here and tell me himself.”
“Could it be that easy?”
“Doubtful. He ignored my lasagna after all. Grown men have cried over my lasagna. I’ve received proposals of marriage for my lasagna.”
“As it should be. It’s really good.”
“So take him one of my biscuits and see what he says.”
“Okay. When Draco comes to his senses, tell him where I’m at.”
