“Would you be a love and sign my book for me? My book club is reading Alexei Volkov’s first wife’s pack romance. It’s the one with the defenseman and the Zamboni driver. They will just die.”
I look between Beckett’s obvious fluster and the pushy woman. Heat creeps up my face.
“Rude,” I spit out.
She straightens, her mouth hanging open.
“You’re rude,” I say, with a little more edge to my voice. “He worked hard all day, and this is the first thing he’s eaten. How would you feel if someone shoved a work email in front of you while you were stuffing your mouth with cake?”
Ignoring her, I calmly put a square of steak in my mouth and hold back a moan. This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I slice another chunk and hold my fork out to Beckett.
“Want a bite?”
Beckett’s eyes are wide as he looks between me and cake lady. Hesitantly, he leans forward and opens his mouth.
“Good?” I continue like she’s not even alive. “Tell me again that thing your lawyer said? I know you’re not going to have to sue, you’ll settle out of court.”
His eyes go wide, but the woman takes a step back. Papa does this all the time. Lawyers freak people out. Mention a lawyer and people back up. Literally.
“I know your PR team has it handled too. Marilyn, right? They have the whole team in place behind you.”
I have no idea what I’m saying, but thank fuck Beckett is amused and playing along.
“Another bite?” I lean into the table, turning my back as much as I can to completely cut the woman off. I hear her make a disgusted sound and turn away from us. It’s hard to pay attention when Beckett is licking his lips like that.
What the fuck am I doing? Playing the jealous omega is not what I came here to do.
“I’m sorry.” I chance a glance at Beckett. He’s working hard to hold back a laugh.
“Hell, Pierce is going to love you.” He says it under his breath as he rearranges himself and looks like he regrets it. Just hearing his name makes my blood boil.
“I didn’t meanto…”
“Does it make me a terrible person if I say that was adorable? I can beat up a six-foot-four professional athlete, but saying no to a fan is nearly impossible.”
I chuckle softly. “Well, I want to get my money’s worth from the steak.”
“Should I order you another one, just in case that one is spoiled?”
“I don’t think this table will hold anymore food.”
Beckett inspects the table like he’s doing the math to figure out if there is room for another plate.
“What’s your favorite dessert?” he asks before taking another bite of steak.
“Yellow cake with chocolate frosting.”
Beckett’s lip twitches, and I can’t quite read his face. I focus on my plate as a memory comes flooding back.
Pierce brought in an old milk crate and turned it over for me to stand on so I could reach the kitchen table.
“What the fuck does ‘grease the pan’ mean?” Reed said, reading the back of the box.
“Butter, you dumbass. You spread butter all over it.” Liam unpacked the rest of the bags from the dollar store.
“Oh, like you’re a chef now?” Pierce pulled the lid off the frosting, stuck his finger in, and winked at me.
“I don’t think we have a bowl big enough.” Reed looked up from the box.
