Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“Okay, great. Thank you.” Cam ducked down and grabbed the bowl of eggs.
“As you can see,” Macklin went on, “there are no mixers or KitchenAids here. We’ll be doing everything by hand—except for the tagliatelle. I’m not a Sadist.”
“But you are a liar,” Lane muttered behind me.
I slapped a hand over my mouth and giggled.
“What was that, baby?” Macklin cupped his ear, having heard Lane.
“Nothing, chef!” Lane insisted. “I think it was Nora who said something, actually.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up—I did not.” Nora smacked Lane’s arm. “Sköt dig, jag är här för att komma närmre du-vet-vem.”
Okaaay, that was a language I didn’t recognize.
Lane chuckled. “Åh, slap af.”
What the crap. I glanced back at them. “Where are you from?”
Before any of them could answer, Macklin cleared his throat loudly, and the sound was so close that I sort of went rigid before I spun forward again. Gulp. He was right in front of me, on the other side of the counter.
Crap, crap, crap!
Switch or not, the look in his eyes was all Dom. He had warm features, from his dark-ish hair to his intense hazel-brown eyes, but that stare was cutting through me. And despite being in his early thirties—I didn’t recall exactly—he could come off as someone much older.
“One’s a Swede, and the other’s my half-Danish boyfriend,” he stated. “And maybe that’s more interesting than learning how to make pasta for your Owners?”
Heat bled onto my cheeks, and the mortification threatened to swallow me whole. I’d been disrespectful! I fucking sucked!
“N-no, Sir,” I stammered. “I’m sorry.” I’m so sorry. Please tell me I didn’t screw this up—
“Good.” The severity in his gaze softened, and he leaned forward and stunned me by kissing the corner of my mouth. “Eyes on me now, pet.” He was gone a beat later, returning to his counter.
“Fuck me,” I mouthed. I felt all shaky, dammit.
Someone in the back whistled, resulting in chuckles from a few others.
Yeah, I was going to behave now.
“Dude,” Cam whispered.
“I know.” I swallowed and wiped my suddenly clammy hands off on my pants.
I swore it took the better half of an hour for my blush to fade, and by then, we all each had two balls of dough resting inside cling film on the counters. My head was also full of information that I was busy jotting down, from something called double zero flour to semolina, the importance of fresh eggs, preferably free-range and large, and the secret to a perfect pasta dough was “an extra yolk.”
A server from downstairs came up with soft drinks and snacks, and when Cam offered to grab me something, I thanked him and nodded. Sprite Zero was hardly the go-to soda when refreshments were brought without preorders, so whatever worked. In the meantime, I was a good boy and wrote down everything I could remember.
I was going to buy drying racks and a pasta machine tomorrow.
Daddy loved pasta, and I was sure Master did too.
For next class—if there was one—I was going to bring a notebook. I had to settle for my phone for now.
Let the dough rest for a minimum of 30 minutes.
All of a sudden, a shadow fell over me, and I stood up straighter, only to back into something solid.
Macklin!
“Can I see your notes?” His low voice hit my ear, causing me to shiver, and then I felt a hand on my hip.
Holy crapamoly of shudders.
I swallowed dryly and nodded, holding up the phone to him.
He was right there. Leaning over my shoulder. If I tilted my head, I’d freaking kiss his cheek, and not even I was that awkward.
He hummed as he read from my screen.
“I have a couple notes too,” he murmured. Then he retrieved his own phone. “They’re from Dean.” His mouth twitched with mirth, though there was something else too. I inched away enough to get a glimpse of his eyes, and they carried traces of concern. “I daresay my brother-in-law is beyond fucking attached.”
What?
I dropped my gaze to his screen and saw the message.
Take that tone with my boy again, and we’re going to have a problem, Macklin. This isn’t Franklin or Lane. We’re not that stern with him yet, if we ever will be. Make sure you didn’t hurt him.
Gosh—the warmth that washed over me nearly melted me into a puddle. My eyes even smarted, and I didn’t like that. It seemed like too much. But…fuck, I… He meant so much to me. More than I’d expected this early, to be honest. Because I’d told myself to be careful around Dean, since he hadn’t—initially—been so keen on going all in like Santiago. Now, though, everything had changed, and it would kill me if I lost either of them.
“I’m sorry, Gael—”
“No!” I cleared my throat and blinked back my emotions, and I shook my head. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. “It’s not you—you didn’t hurt m-me, I swear. It was just his text. He’s…um, I like him so much.”