Page 50

Don’t be a sore loser, Master Loosh!

“The coffee will be done in a few minutes!” Tate said.

We took a break from the speeches when Macklin, Tate, and Archie wheeled in the dessert, and holy fucking hell. The cart held trays and actual towers filled with pastries, cupcakes, cookies, and sweets in the wedding colors blue, green, and white.

“While we get started on dessert,” Daddy said, loudly for everyone to hear, “we thought the newlyweds could go on over to the gift table and see what they’ve scored. Personally, I would begin unwrapping that huge, mysterious-lookin’ gift in blue paper—with the silver bow and way too much tape.”

The toilet, he could’ve said.

“Colt, bring some dessert with you over there,” Daddy advised. “I can already see River eyeing those cupcakes.”

“You might wanna check him for a tapeworm,” Penelope said. “He stole my shrimp cocktail after polishing off two plates of food.”

I snickered to myself, even though the root of the problem wasn’t funny at all. Master ate more when something was off. Not like Daddy, who would snack his ass off when he was restless or frustrated, but like… I got the sense eating was something Master could control. He could structure his day according to his meals. Food could be anchoring in a way.

Knowing that Master—and Daddy, for that matter—would prefer not to get stuck in the dessert crowd, I went over there and grabbed two plates. Noa, Corey, and Jordan were there too.

“Do you also think the colors represent Mister Colt, Mr. West, and Kit?” Corey asked, piling on his plate. “Like, one of Kit’s favorite colors is NATO green. Mister Colt’s beloved Air Force is the dark blue⁠—”

“And Mr. West got white because he was a virgin before the wedding night?” I joked.

Noa guffawed.

“No, silly!” Corey laughed. “But he and Daddy were talking once when we were at dinner, and they said they loved white because, to them, graphic designer to artist, it’s a clean canvas. Something they can create with. Mr. West said a blank sheet of paper is a beginning.”

Nice symbolism, I supposed. It could certainly represent the life they were about to start together as married.

“Maybe Mister Colt got blue because he’s old?” Noa suggested. “You gotta have old and blue at weddings.”

“Please tell Colt that.” Greer came up behind us with Sloan and Archie.

“I think you need something borrowed and something new at weddings too,” I mentioned.

“Kit is new,” Noa replied frankly, biting into a cupcake. “Fucking yum.”

Over by the gift table, the Carters were in the middle of opening gifts, and that drew a crowd too. Not me, though. That was one thing I’d never understood, watching others open presents. How freaking riveting. Also, I’d seen their registry. They’d only wanted boring stuff for their house.

I wondered when they were leaving. Seeing as they had a flight to catch, they probably wouldn’t be here much longer.

Next week was gonna be empty around here. The Carters were off on their honeymoon, Nathan and Ash were going on some road trip with their kids, Ivy was having a freaking baby right now, Tate and Kingsley worked a lot and were in the middle of fine-tuning the last details of their wedding, Nora and Pen were trapped in their new-relationship state where they closed themselves in all the time, and Macklin was swamped at the restaurant.

On my way back to our couch with the dessert, I eyed the room of guests and decided to ask Lane out for coffee soon. He was definitely a dude I wanted to get to know better.

Oh God, I’d eaten too much.

It was my turn to be sprawled out across the sofa, so I had my feet in Master’s lap and my head in Daddy’s lap. And he was combing his fingers through my hair, making me sleepy. It felt so good.

“Are you fallin’ asleep on us, baby?” Daddy murmured.

I yawned and hummed. “Maybe.” Then I peered up at him. “What’re you doing on your phone?”

He’d been writing something forever.

He smiled. “Just a grocery list for tomorrow’s barbecue. I need to pick up the right kind of coffee for the brisket.”

I scrunched my nose. “Coffee? For the brisket?”

“Mm. You gotta have coffee in the rub—but don’t tell the Texan. He’ll be offended.”