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“I can’t really afford dinner out. But thanks, anyway. It will likely be a lot better than the mashed potatoes and sausages I was going to cook anyway.”
“I haven’t had sausage casserole in years,” Ian said, surprising her.
“Really?”
“Used to be a staple in my house growing up.”
“Us too. But if you’d rather go out, I understand. Hey, maybe I could eat first and come out for a soda or something.”
There was silence again. Jameson’s mouth opened, then closed.
“Is she for real right now?” Jack asked, sounding almost angry.
“Um, I am for real,” she said, wondering why he wasn’t talking to her but rather to the other men.
They all stilled, looking at her.
“For one, there’s no way we were letting you pay for your meal,” Ian said. “That’s not up for argument. If you come out to dinner with us, we pay.”
“But we’re just friends.”
“You come out to dinner with us, we pay.”
The other two nodded.
Okay, then.
“And you never ever sit and drink soda while we eat,” Jack added.
“That would be extremely rude,” Jameson said.
Oh.
“And I, for one, would love some sausage casserole and mashed potatoes,” Ian said.
“Really?” she whispered, her heart in her throat.
“Yep.”
“Me too,” Jack said. “I like sausage casserole.”
Jameson probably didn’t, though. He looked way too refined to eat sausage casserole.
“Tomorrow night it is, then,” Jameson added.
Warmth filled her, making her grin wildly.
She didn’t know what they were doing to her, but she couldn’t help but want more.
How the heck was she supposed to guard her heart against them?
17
Jameson knocked on the door and waited.
It didn’t seem right to just enter. He glanced down at the things in his hands.
He’d thought about flowers, but that seemed to send the wrong idea.
