Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Huh?
“By the way,” he said, turning to me. He tucked his shades into the neckline of his shirt. “Speech control will be a fantastic feature right now.” He pinched my mouth shut and smirked. “Understood?”
I nodded dutifully, filled with as much surprise as giddiness. We hadn’t played around with speech restrictions in weeks!
“Good boy. Now…” He opened the back of the SUV, and I felt the surprise growing quickly. What on earth was this? “Help me carry this into the living room. I want everything on the coffee table.”
Um, okay. I stepped closer and eyed the catalogues. Very thick catalogues—with samples, I realized. Tiles, types of wood, mosaic, wallpaper, stone…?
“I want more warmth in our home,” he said. “I headed out to buy a damn pot to plant the tomato seeds Penelope gave me, and then there was a lady asking me if I needed planters, clay pots, or whatever a fucking plug tray is. So I gave up on the spot and turned around—and I saw this showroom terrace, and it made me think about the kitchen, about our living room, and…” A breath gusted out of him. “In short, I want to make changes.”
Could I just propose to him right here and now?
Lucian was home. Physically, mentally, emotionally—he was here, and he wanted to be invested in how our home looked. He wanted warmth.
Holy crap, was I happy.
Wasting no time, I stacked three heavy catalogues in my arms and got started.
Master followed me with a few more catalogues. “By the way, we have a slight scheduling conflict on Friday. KC invited Ash over for dinner, and I invited Ty and Lane, so plan for three extra plates.”
Yes, Master!
“As for redecorating our home,” he went on. “I was thinking marble and purple velvet.”
I came to a screeching halt and spun around. “What?” I squeaked like a freaking mouse.
His mouth twitched, and his eyes danced with mirth. “Good. I’m not the only one who’s rusty. That’s strike one, little pet.”
Motherf—!
That evening, I almost felt bad for being so visibly happy, because Noa was anything but. But we had a big plan for dinner, and I knew he was going to love it. We were finally breaking the news about his getting a lizard after our vacation.
“Go have a seat, honey.” I gave Noa a quick squeeze, then reached for the oven mitts.
He scrunched his nose at me. “Did you win the lottery or something?”
I grinned and shook my head. “Nope.”
Poor love, he had so little energy that he merely shrugged and trailed into the dining room.
“Come here, baby. You can sit with Daddy,” I heard KC say.
All right, final touches. The wine, bread, salad, and a Sharpie were already in the dining room. Candles had been lit, flowers had been set at the center… I hauled the asparagus out of the oven; they’d needed a few extra minutes once I’d taken out the fish.
Four plates, four fish, duchess potatoes, roasted asparagus, and last but not least… I squeezed half a lemon over the food, then poured melted butter over the fish. A little less on Master’s plate, but he wouldn’t be able to taste the difference because some secrets were meant to be kept secret.
Oh crap, I’d almost forgotten. He needed to take his ibuprofen and acetaminophen too. The inflammation in his chest—costochondritis or whatever Daddy had called it—was almost gone, and that was because I kept track of his meds.
There, all done. I wiped my forehead and took a deep breath. Everything looked great.
I carried the first two plates in, and I started with Master at the head of the table. Seeing as Daddy was looking through one of the smaller catalogues—the one with wallpaper samples—I left the other plate with Noa.
“This looks amazing, slave,” Master praised me.
“Thank you, Owner.” I dipped down and kissed his cheek.
“Do you see the fishy still has its eyes, freckles?” KC tried to coax some appetite out of Noa.
“Yeah.” Noa sent me a brief smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Fuck. What if the lizard didn’t work? In the grand scheme of things, what the fuck was a pet compared to the support of one’s mother?
I swallowed nervously and promised I’d be right back.
Maybe we could break the ice with fun anecdotes to make him smile? I was sure Master and Daddy had memories from their Mclean past that would brighten Noa’s mood. I mean, with Master Greer, Reese, and Colt in the same community, how could there not be? And I was sure I could dig up stories about my cousin. Parker was just like Noa. We’d gotten into all sorts of trouble growing up.
I grabbed the last two plates and returned to the dining room, and I sat down across from Noa after giving KC his plate.
“Thank you, pet.” KC smiled and dropped the catalogue on the floor before picking up his knife and fork. “Fuck, I’m starving.” He leaned closer to Noa. “I bet I could eat two horse cocks.”