8. Max #2
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.
Winking, I let a cheeky smile spread across my lips. She blinks quickly before she looks back down and closes the container she filled.
“Just ignore him. We all do,” Noah says with exasperation as he leans in, brushing against her shoulder. At his touch, she looks up and smiles at him sweetly.
“Which one did you want on yours, Rosy?” Bry asks.
Glancing up, she catches my eyes and chews on her lip for a moment. “Both.”
Laughter bubbles out of me, and her soft chuckle joins in. The sound has all of us locking onto her; it’s both heady and mesmerising at the same time.
“So do you all have dinner together like this every night?” she asks as we’re all tucking into our bowls for apple-y cinnamon goodness.
I hope there’s enough for seconds.
“Usually. We’re lucky our work schedules mean most of the time we’re all home for dinner. Sometimes one of us will have plans, or has to work late, but the rest of us will still have dinner together and catch up,” Noah responds.
There’s never really been a discussion about it. I guess it’s just been a sort of unspoken rule. But it’s been like this from the first day I moved in, and it just felt pretty natural.
“Do you usually eat with—is it Stephanie?” Bry asks curiously, and I feel the same burning desire to know everything about her.
Her shoulders drop slightly. “Yes, Steph. Sometimes, but often not. She works shifts around her studies, and I work some evenings, or I’m at the gym. So it’s usually just me, which has taken some getting used to.” She shrugs, brushing off her loneliness like it’s nothing.
I slide my hand over the one she has in her lap, keeping our hands under the table, and I give it a reassuring squeeze.
She shouldn’t ever have to feel lonely.
“I used to eat alone a lot too before I was adopted by Noah’s family,” Bry murmurs. “It might not be a big deal to some, but coming together to share a meal gives a sense of belonging, doesn’t it?”
Rosy stares at him, blinking rapidly; a part of me wants to cup her face in my palms and promise that she has a place to belong with us.
“I didn’t realise how much it meant until it was gone,” she says, her voice faltering slightly at the end. “My nanna had been my only family for so long. It was just the two of us, and when she passed it…it has taken a while to get used to it just being me.”
Nate glares angrily at the side of her face. I can tell that meaty bastard wants to muscle his way in and hoard her like the dragon he is.
Tough shit. He needs to share because it looks like we all want to be there for her.
Without realising it, she’s managed to gain a family to belong to, even if it’s going to take some persuading for her to accept it.