Page 38 of His Forever

I found myself staring a moment too long before snapping back to the conversation.

Bristol laughed at Meg’s question, clearly unfazed by her entrance. “No, those are Brynn’s guys. They’re just hanging around while she’s here.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mess with that dude,” Meg said with a wink, tossing her bag onto the counter as if she’d been coming here for years.

I couldn’t help but grin. Bristol wasn’t wrong—this womanwasa tornado of fun, sweeping into the room with a wild, carefree attitude that was instantly contagious.

Meg caught my eye and raised a curious eyebrow. “Are you the infamous Brynn?”

“That would be me,” I said, extending my hand, but Meg waved it away with a laugh, pulling me into a hug instead.

“Oh honey, we don’t do handshakes around here,” she said, squeezing me tightly before stepping back to give me an approving once-over. “Yeah, you look like Leo’s type.”

“And just what is that?” Bristol asked.

“Pretty, but looks like she’ll kick my ass.”

I chuckled, glancing at Bristol. “I take that as a compliment.”

Meg grinned, clearly pleased with herself, before nodding toward the man still standing quietly by the door. “And this here is King, Lo to me only because he’s my hubby. Don’t let the biker look fool you; he’s got a heart of gold. Just don’t piss him off.”

King gave me a nod, his expression serious but not unfriendly. “Nice to meet you,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, perfectly matching his rugged appearance.

“Nice to meet you too,” I replied, though I couldn’t help but notice how his gaze swept over the room, almost as if he were assessing the exits, the layout—everything. Definitely not just a biker. I glanced at the patch on his chest,President.Yeah, that explained it.

Meg sat on one of the stools under the island and sniffed the air. “What are you guys baking?”

“Chocolate cream pie,” I answered, wiping my hands again.

“Brynn picked it out because it’s Leo’s favorite,” Bristol whispered, her tone teasing as she gave me a knowing look.

Meg’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned to me, clearly delighted by this new bit of information. “Oh, honey, you must know the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. That’s how I snagged Lo all those years ago,” she winked at King, who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed, grinning. “My tacos were what won him over.”

“It was your lush ass that hooked me, babe,” King called, his voice a low rumble of affection. “Your tacos were just the cherry on top.”

Meg let out a peel of laughter, her head thrown back in delight. “Yeah, that too!”

As their laughter filled the kitchen, I couldn’t help but smile. Being around Meg and King was like being caught up in a whirlwind of playful banter and effortless joy. It was a nice distraction, especially with the stress of everything that was hanging over our heads.

Then, the sound of voices and footsteps echoed from down the hall, drawing my attention. I glanced toward the entrance just as Leo and Sig appeared in the doorway.

“Head mafia man!” Meg called out, her voice loud and cheerful as she pointed at Leo with both hands like she’d just caught him in the act of something. Leo chuckled, shaking his head, but didn’t correct her.

He nodded toward King.

Meg’s eyes lit up with sudden excitement. “Oh!” she called out dramatically, putting a hand to her chin like she was deep in thought. “Another mafia man! Let me guess his name.” She tapped her finger thoughtfully to her cheek, pretending to puzzle it out. “Boris.”

Leo opened his mouth, probably to correct her, but Meg cut him off before he could say a word.

“No, no,” she shook her head. “You don’t look like a Boris.” She tipped her head to the side, giving Sig an exaggerated once-over. “Bobby Two Fingers. Yeah, that’s gotta be it.”

Sig, clearly amused, held up his hands in front of him, wiggling his fingers with a playful smirk. “Got all my fingers, darling.”

Meg narrowed her eyes suspiciously, her finger still tapping her chin. “Maybe you like to leave your victims with only two fingers. It’s your calling card.”

King burst out laughing at that. “He’s in the mafia, not a serial killer, Meg.”

“Oh, hush, Lo,” Meg waved her hand at him dismissively. “You know biker names. Leave the mafia stuff to me.”

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