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PROLOGUE 1
A couple months ago
Cameron Jacobson
“Forgive me—I’m rambling,” Archie laughed softly. “What step are you on?”
“No problem! Step twelve—putting the dish in the oven.” I grinned to myself and closed the oven, then set the timer for forty-five minutes. “You?” I went to wash my hands and push play on my background playlist again.
“Almost there too. Just adding the Parmesan.”
I dried my hands before I adjusted the earbuds. “To sum up, we’ve had a great holiday, we need a new book for our book club, and it’s nice to get back to normal routines.”
He chuckled. “Exactly. I mean, I loved meeting Master’s family, but they’re such a wild bunch. When one yells, there’s no one to tell them to lower their voice. No, they shout even louder.”
That cracked me up, ’cause he was just describing Noa. And, to an extent, KC. KC could definitely meet Noa at his level. “I have two people like that in my life. Noa and my cousin Parker—and KC gets an honorary mention. Don’t let the corporate lawyer schtick fool you.”
Good thing I was home alone, because KC and Noa would include me in the same group, which was so fucking wrong. I had my tiny brat moments—nothing more.
“Like Sloan!” Archie exclaimed. “Because Master’s usually the hell-raiser, Sloan comes off as the calmer of the two. But that’s just setting the bar low. Sloan can push buttons like mad—which you obviously know.”
I sure did. I snickered under my breath.
In the background, I heard Master Greer going, “Who you callin’ hell-raiser, baby?”
I grinned and started wiping down the counter. Master would be home in about half an hour, so I had time to prepare his appetizer too.
“Definitely not you, Owner,” Archie teased. “I’m talking to Cam. We’re cooking together.”
“I see.” Greer’s voice sounded closer, and it was soon followed by an audible kiss between the two. “Hey, pet. Everythin’ good?”
“Yes, Sir. How are you?” I smiled and opened the fridge to haul out the ingredients. “Archie told me you spoiled each other over Christmas.”
“Good and proper,” he confirmed with a chuckle. “If you ask me, Corey went overboard. He—hold on.” There was some commotion in the background, a mix of dogs barking and a kid crying. “I’ll be right there, sweetheart! Oi, Jason—your sister’s upset. Don’t just walk past her. Where’s Kyla?”
“Corey has her. They’re upstairs. Shoo, Sir.” Archie clearly wanted his phone privacy back, and I waited, amused, until things quieted down again.
By then, I had everything out for Master’s antipasto platter.
Since he’d told me his doctor wanted him to cut down on salt and red meat—according to Master, there was “slight concern” about stress and “slightly elevated” blood pressure—I’d done my best to serve him less antipasti. But it was difficult because he loved his charcuterie, olives, marinated artichokes, and stuff like that.
And call me a fretter, but when someone overused the word “slightly,” it raised a red flag or two.
He was going back to the doctor next week, and I could only hope things hadn’t gotten worse. I couldn’t actually believe it, because he hadn’t worked less. He hadn’t made an effort to sleep better. His hours at the office remained insane.
For now, I kept it all to myself.
Instead of an appetizer, Archie was preparing a loaf of bread and side salads with their dinner, so we chatted about upcoming events while we worked. He and Macklin were hoping to put together a cooking class at some point, and Archie and I wanted to plan a demo about going the extra mile for our Owners.
Archie couldn’t decide which topic to go with. “I mean, I feel like body worship has been covered—and I say that as a complete newbie in the community. But it’s usually the first kink that pops up.”
That was true.
I placed two slices of brie on the plate before moving on to the olives. “We could also do two examples of my idea.” I threw that out there. “It doesn’t have to be a huge, elaborate event. Sometimes, we just wanna share some tips and tricks.”
Archie hummed, thinking it over. “I suppose… Actually, our versions of that would look different, so it’s not a bad idea. Luxury unboxing for you, special teatime for me.”
I laughed. “Luxury unboxing—let’s fucking call it that.”
