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“I’m going to set up the bar. God forbid I should stress myself out.” I roll my eyes and open the door. The boxes containing the large spirit bottles are by my feet and I bend to lift one.

“And for your next trick…” Aaron mumbles, taking it from me.

I throw my arms in the air and follow him back to the bar. “Holy hell! Why don’t you and your cousin just put me on bed rest for the next eight months?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Tyler’s voice carries across the bar. “Although I have doubts about its success.”

“Fantastic. Both of you now. Here’s an idea. Why don’t I just sit here at the bar and supervise you?” I drop onto one of the stools.

“That’s a brilliant idea.” Tyler kisses my cheek as Aaron shrugs off his jacket and rolls up his shirtsleeves. “Tell us where to put them,” he instructs.

“There are another three boxes in the storeroom before you start that.” I rest my cheek on my hand.

They both disappear and return with all three boxes.

I flip the file to where I have the setup mocked up and tell them where everything needs to go. They do as I say, no questions asked. Although I’m secretly enjoying having both Aaron and Tyler doing exactly as I say, I keep my face blank and my voice down.

I mean, seriously. One hot guy in a suit and another—my hot guy—in a polo shirt that fits his shoulders and arms properly are moving fairly heavy stuff around.

I’m not saying the view is bad. At all.

“There, you see? You’re a manager and you just did a great job managing and you didn’t have to lift a finger.”

I stare at Aaron. “I’ll manage your ass out of here if you keep treating me like a china flippin’ doll.”

He laughs. “Is that everything you’d like done today, boss?”

I click my tongue and he grabs his jacket.

“You two have fun in California. Try not to do too much, Liv.”

I flip him the bird behind his back. Damn protective males. Tyler’s mom was right last night—cavemen, all of them.

God help Dayton when she gets herself knocked up. That’s all I’m sayin’.

“What was that?” Tyler says as a rumbling noise erupts from my stomach.

“Um.”

“Have you eaten today?” His gaze flashes with annoyance.

“I’m sensing ‘no’ is the wrong answer here, so I’m going to plead the Fifth.”

“Liv,” he growls. “You have to eat!”

“I’m taking my vitamins. I’m okay as long as I drink.”

“No, you have to eat,” he repeats, walking round the bar. “No wonder you look like you’re about to collapse.”

“I don’t want to be sick again, okay? I just don’t want anything.”

“A little bit of something, even if you are sick, is better than a whole lot of nothing. Now get up and grab your purse. We’re going to get you food.”

I drop my head back like a petulant child and get up. “I don’t want to go for food. I want to go home, get in my sweatpants, and watch The Big Bang Theory until my ears bleed from Penny’s sarcasm,” I huff.

Tyler sighs and cups my face. “Then we’ll go home, get in sweatpants, and watch The Big Bang Theory. But you’re still eating.” He kisses me quickly and pulls me to his car before I can argue any further. “Pasta, okay? Just some plain pasta. It’ll give you energy and line your stomach.”

“Fine. I’ll eat some pasta.” I get inside the Mercedes. “And when you say home, whose home do you mean?”

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