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She simply nods.
“I’ll take it.”
Carson shuffles on his feet. “After a month. I want you to take a month to settle in, to get Charlie settled, and then work all you want, baby.”
I nod slowly. “I can live with that.”
I poke at my skin and don’t feel a thing.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
My leg is so freaking sore, but that motherfucking tracker is gone. Destroyed. It hadn’t run out of battery, miraculously, so Carson took it somewhere and did God knows what with it.
Now, twenty-four hours later, I’m sitting at the island in the kitchen helping Mildred by chopping and doing things that don’t require me to walk around a lot.
“I feel bad that you just got here yesterday, and now you’re making a feast for, like, six hundred people.”
Mildred smirks as she pulls some fresh bread out of the oven.
The oven that she still gazes at with heart eyes.
This whole kitchen is bougie as hell, with state-of-the-art appliances that I’m pretty sure gave Mildred an orgasm.
“It’s not that many,” she says, waving me off. “It’s not even twenty people. And what I’m making is easy.”
“You marinated the chicken.”
“That’s not hard, honey.”
I’m not hopeless when it comes to cooking, but it’s not my favorite pastime. Mildred has made Charlie and me our dinners several nights a week for years now. She loves to cook, and we appreciate her.
“I used to be a chef, you know,” she says, stunning me silent. My eyes go wide, and the knife I’m using stops in midair.
“You never told me that.”
“It’s been a while, but I enjoy this, so never worry about me when it comes to feeding your friends and family. You don’t even have to chop those for me. Go relax until people start arriving.”
“They’re arriving,” Carson says as he walks through the room, looking delicious as fuck in a pair of ripped blue jeans and white button-down with the sleeves rolled up. “Rome and Lulu are here.”
And now I have butterflies like crazy.
“Shoo,” Mildred says. “I’ve got this. Go enjoy everyone. You deserve this.”
Charlie comes barreling out of the playroom, running full speed ahead for the front door, but Carson deftly picks him up right off his feet and holds our boy up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, making Charlie giggle.
I love how well they get along.
They look so much alike and have so many of the same mannerisms, it’s mind boggling.
“Hi!” Charlie says, waving upside down when Carson opens the door. “Welcome to our home.”
I watch as Rome grins at my boy, reaching out to shake Charlie’s hand, then wraps his arm around a gorgeous brunette with the prettiest damn hair I’ve ever seen—I need to know her secrets—and all kinds of curves everywhere, and wow.
Rome did well.
His eyes shift to mine, and that smile spreads, almost knocking me on my ass.
Why are these men so damn good looking?
