Page 19 of Whispered Promises

“Embarrassingly, nothing. All I can usually manage is microwaving things or putting together a sandwich. Anything I try to cook turns out inedible or burns.” She cringes.

A laugh bursts out of me. “Same here. I’m banned from the kitchen.” My eyes roll as I gesture to Bry. “But our boy here is the best, so you should just come here for dinner. That way you get to avoid microwaving…something, and Bry gets to feed you. Win, win, really. Plus, you’ll get to hang out with me.”

One of the guys clears his throat.

“Us. You’ll get to hang out with us,” I correct.

“I can’t impose. That…” She shakes her head.

“You definitely can; we would love to have you whenever you’d like to eat here. Take this as an open invitation,” Noah interrupts from his seat opposite her, offering her a smile before he continues eating.

Rosy’s mouth drops open, a silent “Oh” on her lips.

The cute but stubborn woman. It’s obvious she’s not going to just invite herself around, even with us telling her she can come whenever she wants to.

My plate empty, I wrap an arm across her shoulders, squeezing her reassuringly. “See, it’s all sorted.”

It shouldn’t feel this natural to touch her, but it does. Not wanting to poke that feeling too much, I turn to Bry. “So, what’s for dessert? Raspberries?”

His brows pull together. “No. I’ve made an apple pie, and there’s custard and ice-cream.”

Noah collects our plates, and Bry snags the leftover dishes. Rosy springs up, scooping up a dish before anyone can say otherwise, and hurries after them. Spinning in my chair, I watch in amusement as she tries to help.

“You don’t need to do that. You’re our guest,” Noah says, taking the dish from her.

With her back to me, I can’t see her expression, but I can easily picture her teeth nibbling on her lower lip, all cute and unsure. Her weight shifts from one foot to the other.

“I’d like to help. Please?” Her voice comes out soft.

Whatever Noah sees on her face has his chin dipping in agreement. “Okay, there’s no expectation to, as we have it covered. But if you want, you can put the leftovers into some containers.”

At his words, she straightens, shoulders no longer curled, with renewed purpose.

Noah hands her a couple of empty containers, then loads the dishwasher. Bry grabs the apple pie out of the oven with gloved hands, then sets it on the counter.

My concentration fixes on it, and my mouth waters.

“Who wants custard, and who wants ice-cream?” he asks, cutting slices and sliding them into bowls.

“I don’t need to choose. Both.”

A loud masculine sigh escapes someone, but fuck if I care. I know what I like.

“Of course you want both, Maxi.” Bry shakes his head with a smile, and Rosy lets out a soft snigger that snatches my attention away from the pie.

I bet she would taste good with the pie. I wonder if she would let me kiss her after she’s had a bite, letting me taste it from her tongue. Imagine if she had ice-cream too. I groan, thinking of the cool vanilla mixing in with the heat of her mouth.

Someone smacks the back of my head.

“Stop making sex noises,” Nate grumbles.

“That wasn’t a sex noise, that was an appreciation groan. My sex noises are way louder. I like my girl to know I’m enjoying her.” I grin back, watching as he glares at me in his surly, lovable way.

I turn back to the kitchen. Rosy’s still with her eyes wide and brows raised in surprise…or is that want?

Yup, she wants me and my sex noises.

I would definitely be loud as fuck for her.