Page 26 of Ever After All

“Wyatt?” Rosie prompted.

My mind caught up to her question. “I have eaten, but I can always eat more.” I glanced at my watch. “It’s late, though. Please don’t tell me you’re going to offer to cook me something. That’s not necessary,” I said as I followed her lead and kicked off my boots in the shoe tray near the door.

She grinned. “I’m too tired to cook. I have one of those frozen pizzas that I could make. Or is that beneath you?” She waggled her brows as she stood in front of the freezer.

“I’m a guy. Frozen pizza is not above me. When I was firefighting, I lived off freeze-dried food.”

“Yeah, but your family has a really good restaurant, and they make kick-ass pizza.”

“Well, let’s order some. It’ll probably be here by the time your frozen pizza cooks,” I pointed out. I was already sliding my phone out of my pocket and lifting it to make a call.

“Wyatt, you don’t have to do that,” Rosie began.

As the phone rang in my ear, I caught her eyes. “It’s pizza, Rosie. Just pizza. The delivery guy isn’t going to spread any rumors.”

“What if?—”

Before I could respond, someone answered the call. “Fireweed Restaurant, can you hold, please?”

“Of course.”

As soon as the hold music began to play in my ear, I replied to Rosie. “They’re not gonna gossip. They’re going to deliver pizza, and it’s really good. It will be here faster than it takes your frozen pizza to bake.” I paused, listening to the music. “They need to change this,” I muttered.

Rosie snorted before she turned and eyed the frozen pizza box she had pulled out of her freezer. “This says twenty-five minutes.”

Before I could respond, the guy who had answered came back on the line. “Hi there, what can I get for you?”

“Hey, Dale, it’s Wyatt. I don’t normally pull rank, but I just told my friend that our pizza delivery time would beat the frozen pizza that is apparently supposed to take twenty-five minutes to cook. What are my odds of being right?”

Dale let out a dry chuckle. “Pretty good. We’re busy, but our early rush is over. How far out are you?”

“Ten minutes, give or take a few.”

“We can probably get it to you in fifteen or twenty. Unless your order is something complicated,” he replied.

Glancing at Rosie, I mouthed, “What kind of pizza do you want?”

“Pepperoni and mushroom.”

A woman after my own heart, I thought. I almost repeated it aloud before catching myself. “Pepperoni and mushroom. That’s simple, I think,” I said to Dale.

“We keep those prepped, so you’re good.”

“Tell the driver to drive fast and take chances,” I teased.

Dale’s laughter filtered through the line before he said, “Nope, but it’ll make it in time.”

“No matter what, I’m gonna give them a killer tip.”

When I hung up the phone, Rosie rolled her eyes. She put the frozen pizza back in the freezer. “I hope your odds are good. We should bet,” she added.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’ll bet.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You will?”

“Absolutely. If I win, I get a night with you. Whenever I want. On my terms.”

Before she opened her mouth to respond, I added, “As long as you’re in the mood and want whatever I want and accept my terms at the time.”

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