Page 81 of Cinder
Frankie barrels in from the side and loops her arm through mine. “Finally, another woman to dilute this testosterone circus.”
Evan glances at me, almost nervously. “You want water? Cider? Something?”
Something.
“Water’s fine, thank you.”
Luke stands near the end of the long table with his arms folded and eyes sharp. He gives me a small nod, and I smile back.
Evan appears back beside me and hands me a cold bottle of water, his fingers brushing mine for a fraction longer than necessary.
“Thanks,” I murmur.
Mason takes that moment to look up with his tongs in hand, eyes moving between Evan and me with open curiosity.
“Prince,” he calls, grinning. “You finally brought a date to Sunday roast!”
There’s a beat of silence, but Evan doesn’t rise to it. He just flips Mason off without looking at him and shifts closer to me instead, guiding me toward the tables.
“Do I need to sign a waiver?” I ask over my shoulder, and Mason chuckles.
“Ignore him,” Evan says.
I smile. “I assume this is him behaving.”
“This is restrained,” Luke mutters dryly.
Remi bumps my hip gently as Elle takes off with Max.
“You’re safe,” she says under her breath warmly. “Mostly.”
Colt appears at my other side with a plate already loaded with way more food than I’ll ever eat in one sitting.
“Eat before Mason experiments again,” he says, pressing it into my hands without ceremony.
I blink down at it. “I didn’t even—”
“Too late,” he says easily. “Food is our love language.”
And if it’s measured by the contents of this plate, their love is immense. It's warm against my palms, heavy with potatoes and slices of brisket and something covered in enough cheese to qualify as a health risk.
“Aww, Colt. Do you love me?”
The joke comes out bright, but something small and stupidly hopeful shifts underneath it. If Colt hears it, he’s kind enough not to show it.
“Obviously. Remi already decided we’re keeping you, and I don’t argue with my wife.”
“Smart man,” Remi calls from down the table, raising a glass.
Evan’s eyes flick to Colt’s. “You adopting my nanny now?”
Colt’s grin widens. “Yournanny, huh?”
The room’s hum dips a fraction, everyone far too interested to pretend otherwise.
Evan’s jaw shifts. “Elle’s nanny.”
“Right.” Colt looks toward Remi. “You hear that, Rem? Elle’s nanny.”
