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I felt my cheeks heat.
“That was very nice of you, Memphis,” I said. “I usually eat anything, but given the choice, I’m going to get green bean chicken or vegetable chicken.”
Something that most people wouldn’t bother with getting. I was weird that way, though.
The kitchen went silent.
“That’s what Lock likes, too,” Memphis said. “I didn’t order any extra of that because Lock’s usually the only one that eats it.”
I smiled at Lock who was winking at me devilishly.
“We have superior tastes,” he teased. “You can have some of mine.”
“You never let me have any of yours,” Ares countered.
“That’s because you only like eating the chicken,” Lock countered. “And you smell.”
Ares flipped him off. “I do not smell.”
“You smell like a perfume factory,” he countered. “It offends my nose.”
Ares scoffed. “That was when I was a teenager. I don’t smell like that anymore.”
“Then you must’ve permanently damaged my olfactory nerves.” He touched his nose and began handing out food.
“Just to say, but Saylor wears the same scent as me,” Ares suddenly said to her brother. “So, if my scent offends you, then Saylor’s will, too.”
I had noticed that.
My lips twitched into a small smile as I tried to keep the grin off my face.
Lock’s eyes turned to me. “She smells good. You don’t, Ares.”
The way his eyes twinkled when he said that made me want to burst out laughing.
“You’re impossible.” She huffed, taking her food and leaving.
Aspen and Memphis took their husbands’ food and their own and left shortly after.
When everyone had their food, they walked to the kitchen table. Lock waited until they were gone to say, “You smell great. In fact, I could smell you all day long and not get tired of it.”
Laughter built in my throat, and this time I didn’t hold it in.
***
Lock
“I gotta admit,” Saylor said quietly. “I really do only like the chicken sometimes in the green bean chicken.”
I watched her bite into a green bean with a grimace.
“What’s wrong with it?” I wondered.
“They don’t always cook them enough for me,” she answered. “These are too hard. I hate hard green beans.”
I started divvying up the chicken, pushing it to one side of the plate and the green beans to the other.
“There,” I said. “Don’t eat them if you don’t like them.”
