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The sun streamed in my window, and threw my arm over my eyes.

“You’re an idiot, Bristol Booth,” I groaned out loud.

Why did I let Pie in my bed? Uh, and my bath tub? Because I was an idiot who was easily seduced with a few words and a sexy body. Both things that Pie had. In spades.

I needed to get up and get on with my life. I had told myself yesterday that I needed to get Pie out of my head, and today was going to be day one of no Pie.

Cold turkey.

No more of the sexy biker.

Being back at Wyndemere was going to make it much easier. There was no way for Pie to sneak in and Princeton, Apollo, or Murphy not know he was here. Of course, I had to deal with the fact that Princeton knew about last night, but I could totally just play it off. We were playing Monopoly or something like that.

Who knows if he would actually believe me, but that was the story I was going to stick with.

I needed to get up and stop thinking about Pie.

This was Marco and Royal’s first morning back in the house, and I wanted to make it a good one. I knew I was just a chef, but I firmly believed that life revolved around food. Most good times you had in life, you could trace it back to a certain food or meal you ate. I wanted an amazing breakfast to be part of Marco and Royal’s memory of their first morning in their home with Kane.

I quickly dressed and piled my hair on top of my head, then mentally ran through everything I had in the fridge and freezer and put together a solid plan for breakfast.

“Morning.”

I skidded to halt at the sight of Royal standing in front of the stove. “Uh, hi?”

Royal laughed and glanced at me. “I was thinking of making eggs, but first I had to figure out how to even turn on the stove.”

No one ever came into the kitchen and wanted to make breakfast. Sure, Marco and the guys helped themselves to things when it was just a snack, but meals were mine. I was the one responsible for keeping everyone fed.

“Is that okay?” Royal asked.

I blinked twice. “Of course,” I called. No, it wasn’t. The kitchen was mine.

Royal waved her hand and stepped away from the stove. “Since you’re up, you can do the cooking, and I can just take a tray up to Marco. I’ll pass it off as if I cooked it,” she laughed.

“Oh, uh, sure,” I chirped. “What did you want me to make? Eggs benedict? Maybe a quiche?” I suggested.

Royal shook her head and smiled. “If I’m going to try to pass this off as if I made it, we’re going to have to stick to scrambled eggs and toast. Marco would know instantly I didn’t cook if I handed the man a quiche.”

I nodded and moved to the stove. “Good thinking.”

Royal made her way to the island and pulled out a stool. “Sorry for scaring you when you walked in. I know the kitchen is your domain.”

She was right, but this was her house. I was just hired staff. “You can do anything you want, Royal. You are the lady of the house now. When Greer comes here, I know she’s the one to run things by.”

“And what happens when Greer isn’t here?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Leo or Marco are in charge, but they don’t care what I make as long as it’s something good.” I grabbed a large fry pan and set it on the stove.

“I guess I also don’t really care what you make as long as it’s good,” she pondered.

I grabbed a dozen eggs and started to crack them into a bowl. “Is there anything you don’t like?” I asked. “Foods that you are allergic to or just don’t want to eat?”

Royal tipped her head to the side. “I mean, I will eat anything, but if I have to say something, I would say I’m not really into fancy stuff.”

“Fancy stuff?” I had no clue what that could mean.

“You know. Caviar or those little squidy things. You can skip all of that.” She cringed and gave a little shiver.

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