Page 24 of Triplet Babies for Pucking Christmas

Jamie holds up his hands in mock surrender, still grinning like the asshole he is. “Relax, man. Just being friendly.”

Savannah’s watching us now, her eyes darting between me and Jamie, clearly confused by the tension. I force myself to calm down, take a deep breath, and focus on the sandwich in front of me.

But even as I eat, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s shifted. I’ve never felt this way before, not about anyone. And the fact that it’s happening now, with her—this stranger who’s staying in my house for a week—throws me off balance.

Jamie finishes his sandwich, stretches, and gives me a wink before heading toward the door. “Well, I’m out. Got practice. Catch you later, Troy. Savannah.”

She waves, but her eyes linger on me as Jamie walks out. I feel like I’ve lost some silent battle I didn’t even realize I was fighting.

“So,” she says, turning back to me, her voice soft, “about the salary…”

I swallow hard, trying to shake off the possessiveness. “Yeah. Let’s talk.”

Chapter Ten

Savannah

His eyes are unreadable, but I can feel the intensity behind them.

Broad shoulders stretch the fabric of his T-shirt, and I have to force myself not to stare. “Let’s get down to numbers.”

I pause, trying to read his face. I mean, I expected him to negotiate, maybe lowball me since this is just a trial week. But the way he’s looking at me, calm and confident, makes me think he’s got something else in mind.

“What are you thinking?” I ask, wiping my hands on my apron and trying to keep it casual.

He crosses his arms, his muscles flexing slightly, and says, “Three thousand a week.”

My jaw almost hits the floor. “What?”

“Three grand,” he repeats, like it’s nothing. “I know what chefs make. And I want the best.”

I blink, trying to process the number. That’s…a lot of money for one week. I mean, holy shit. “That’s…generous,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “But, uh, are you sure?”

He smirks, nodding. “You’re good, Savannah. I read all about you before…everything.I know it. Plus, it’s only a week, right? I’ll pay you that, and if it works out, we’ll talk about something more long-term.”

I swallow, still reeling. “Okay. I can work with that.”

“Good,” he says, standing up and stretching. “Now, let’s talk about the cooking arrangements.”

“Right,” I say, snapping back to reality. “I’ll make breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I can do meal prep too, if you need it.”

“Fine by me,” he says. “But just so you know, I’m not picky. As long as it’s healthy and keeps me in shape for the season, we’re good. Oh, and no allergies.”

“Got it,” I say, mentally noting everything. “Any preferences? Like, do you want a specific kind of cuisine or...”

He shakes his head. “Just make it good. And healthy. I’m not really into fancy shit, but I trust you know what you’re doing.”

I nod, feeling a little more at ease. “Okay, great. I’ll need to do some shopping, though. I’ll stock up the kitchen and get what I need to start cooking tomorrow.”

“Sure,” he says, without hesitation, pulling out his wallet and handing me a credit card. “Get whatever you need.”

I stare at the card for a second before taking it. This iswild. I’ve never had someone hand me their credit card like it’s no big deal. But Troy just shrugs it off like it’s nothing, like dropping cash is just a normal Tuesday for him.

“Thanks,” I say, slipping it into my pocket.

“I’ve got to head out for a bit,” Troy says, checking his watch. “I’ll be back around nine. We can catch up later.”

I nod, trying to act casual as he grabs his bag from the counter. “Sounds good.”

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