Page 194 of They Are Mine

Instead, I text:

Me: Tonight. What even is your favorite food?

Callum: You.

Me: Seven. I’ll just cook whatever then. Asshole.

I throw my phone into my bag, exhale through my nose, and stare at my reflection in the mirror.

I love him.

God help me, I actually love him.

And he loves me just the way I am.

That’s a fucking problem. It’s… insane.

Back home, my men feel it.

They know I’m rattled.

Because this dinner is supposed to be tailored to the new man. But Callum isn’t normal. He’s a fucking wildfire who doesn’t play by any rules, especially not mine.

So what do I do?

I make my favorite meal.

Because if Callum likes me just as I am, then he gets me as I am.

Stuffed burgers. Not just a lazy blend of cheese and seasonings mixed into the meat like some amateur bullshit. No. Two perfectly seasoned patties pinched together with melty cheese, grilled onions, and peppers trapped inside like a sinful little secret.

Orion whistles low when I drag out the grill. “Oh, now it’s a party.”

“Did you doubt me?” I arch a brow, handing him the plate of patties.

“Never, sweetheart,” he smirks, taking them with one hand while the other pats my ass. “You making those battered fries, too? Because I’m not gonna lie, I only stayed with you for those.”

Noah snorts as he sets out ingredients for the rolls. “Oh, so not for the mind-blowing sex?”

Orion winks. “That’s a close second.”

I roll my eyes, but my stomach tightens with excitement. They’re teasing, but I know tonight is electric for all of us. A new man at this table means new dynamics, new chemistry, new possibilities.

Noah and Elliot work on the rolls, their movements effortless, fluid, in sync. Noah’s strong hands knead the dough, and Elliot watches him with that sharp, assessing gaze, the kind that sees every flicker of emotion beneath the surface.

“You’re getting better at that,” Elliot murmurs, pressing a steady hand against Noah’s lower back. It’s so casual, so intimate.

Noah beams. Fucking beams. “You taught me well.”

Orion snickers from the grill. “Christ, I think I just watched you two have sex with bread.”

Elliot doesn’t even look up. “You’re just jealous I haven’t taught you how to bake.”

“Who needs baking skills when I look this good?” Orion flexes and winks at me. “Right, sweetheart?”

I toss a towel at his head. He catches it without breaking eye contact. The cocky bastard.

I move to the potatoes, slicing them into perfect wedges. Orion crowds behind me, warm and solid, arms bracketing me against the counter.

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