Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“And we’ve had conversations about this,” Ian added. “We fucked up. It won’t happen again.”
Maggie bit her lip. She wished she could believe that. Besides, it wasn’t really their fault. Well, Ian was a dick, but he hadn’t known she’d take what he said so badly.
And all Jack had done was ask her out on a date. Hardly a huge offense.
Sighing, she rubbed at her eyes.
“You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping, either,” Jameson said gently.
He would be right about that.
“Right. You’re to eat some food. Drink some electrolytes and then go back to bed. And you’re taking tomorrow off.”
“I can’t just take tomorrow off.” Although Uncle Willy was looking tired too. So perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea.
“You are. Doctor’s orders.”
Ian crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. Jack just hopped up onto the counter next to her and picked up a piece of melon, holding it to her lips.
Jameson pressed into her from behind. “Eat, Shortcake.”
Assbaboons.
She opened her mouth and took the piece of sweet melon. The taste exploded on her tongue. She let out a small groan of delight and swore that they all went onto high alert.
Yikes.
“I should be making you guys dinner,” she said. “That’s what I promised.” She attempted to get off the stool, but Jameson placed his hands on her shoulders while Ian shook his head.
“Not tonight. We’re looking after you right now,” Jameson told her.
It was almost too much. Maggie could barely breathe. Their scents were mingling, adding to her desire.
Her need.
“You’re going to eat your dinner,” Jack told her.
“Maybe take a nice, relaxing bath,” Jameson added.
“And go to bed,” Ian said.
Ooh, yeah. She wouldn’t mind going to bed with the three of them.
Whoa. Down, girl. Not happening.
“To sleep,” Ian added.
That seemed to break the spell. Jameson stepped away from her and she felt a pang of loss. Ian too, took a step away, searching through the fridge while muttering about dinner.
Only Jack stayed close.
It was for the best. They didn’t want more with her. And frankly, she felt the same.
Three men? Madness.
She didn’t live here. It wasn’t even possible.
But damn, a girl sure could dream.
“All right. Maybe tomorrow night, then?” she asked. “Uncle Willy is going to the palace for dinner.”
“Are you a good cook?” Jameson asked her.
“Sure. I’m really good. The last time I cooked, everyone came down with some weird virus afterward, but that had nothing to do with me.”
She was aware of them all staring at each other in alarm. Well, Jack didn’t look alarmed. He looked as though he was about to burst into laughter.
“Um. Or we could go out to eat,” Jameson said quickly.
“Oh. Sure. You guys could.”
“With you,” he added, staring down at her quizzically.
“I can’t really afford dinner out. But thanks, anyway. It will likely be a lot better than the mashed potatoes and sausages I was going to cook anyway.”
“I haven’t had sausage casserole in years,” Ian said, surprising her.
“Really?”
“Used to be a staple in my house growing up.”
“Us too. But if you’d rather go out, I understand. Hey, maybe I could eat first and come out for a soda or something.”
There was silence again. Jameson’s mouth opened, then closed.
“Is she for real right now?” Jack asked, sounding almost angry.
“Um, I am for real,” she said, wondering why he wasn’t talking to her but rather to the other men.
They all stilled, looking at her.
“For one, there’s no way we were letting you pay for your meal,” Ian said. “That’s not up for argument. If you come out to dinner with us, we pay.”
“But we’re just friends.”
“You come out to dinner with us, we pay.”
The other two nodded.
Okay, then.
“And you never ever sit and drink soda while we eat,” Jack added.
“That would be extremely rude,” Jameson said.
Oh.
“And I, for one, would love some sausage casserole and mashed potatoes,” Ian said.
“Really?” she whispered, her heart in her throat.
“Yep.”
“Me too,” Jack said. “I like sausage casserole.”
Jameson probably didn’t, though. He looked way too refined to eat sausage casserole.
“Tomorrow night it is, then,” Jameson added.
Warmth filled her, making her grin wildly.
She didn’t know what they were doing to her, but she couldn’t help but want more.
How the heck was she supposed to guard her heart against them?
17
Jameson knocked on the door and waited.
It didn’t seem right to just enter. He glanced down at the things in his hands.
He’d thought about flowers, but that seemed to send the wrong idea.
What is the right idea?
She’s cooking the three of you dinner.
As a thank you. Nothing more.
So, instead of flowers, he’d grabbed a chocolate torte for dessert and some scented sunscreen. Was that weird?
He’d noticed yesterday that she was a bit sunburned, and she’d mentioned that she didn’t like putting it on because of the smell and feel.
But this stuff had been created especially for Littles. Not that he thought she was one. Well . . . she might be. He’d also seen her toy zebra that she was cuddling.