Page 67 of Interpreter

Damn straight he did.

Pe and I take a seat at the island, both of us ogling our respective men. “Good morning,” says the man who made me come with just his fingers in one of Pe’s precious hideaways. “You looked peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Pe snorts. “You couldn’t wake her with a dick in the mouth. The girl sleeps like the dead.”

“Felipe!”

That was Marcus. He loves me, and he also has way more class than both me and Felipe.

“Thank you, Marcus.” I look at Pe.Nah, nah, na-nah, nah. Your boyfriend loves meis what my smug-ass look says.

“Give me back my robe. I should have let you miss the show.” His head shakes subtly before his lips purse. “Ungrateful prude.”

A throat clears in front of us that I would recognize anywhere. “So, I need to go home and get some clothes—”

“No, you don’t.” Pe beats me to it, and I roll my eyes.

“Sure. I can take you home.”

Tim smiles and scratches the stubble on his face. “Would you also like to stay for dinner? My family usually does Sunday dinner, but Hayes and Theo will be out of town for work, so they moved it to today. You don’t have to, but….”

Gah, was he this cute at work when he was nervous?

I watch as his eyes look down at his hands. “But I’d like for you to come. For all of you to come.”

Pe makes this choking noise and sits up straight. “You mean to the foundation? The Holy Land of hotties?”

He’s not going. I know they’ve already met him, but just that comment alone deserves him sitting this one out.

“Uh….”

Tim’s eyes are asking for me to interpret what Felipe just said. I’m not going to. I’m sure what he saw was correct.

“I’d love to,” I answer, just as Felipe blurts out, “We’d love to.”

Great, I guess I won’t be breaking in this kitchen table in after all.

The McCallister-Jameson Foundation is cozy.

I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe a stone building with aluminum add-on buildings. I don’t know, but I did not expect a historical plantation house located on hundreds of acres of farmland.

“Were you expecting tents?” the smart-ass next to me teases. I guess I deserve it, I may have gasped when Anniston opened the door and the smell of fresh-baked pies filled my nose. Pictures upon pictures line the walls through the entryway that looks like it’s decorated from one of those HGTV shows Pe and I pass over, looking forBelow Deck. We’re both drama divas. Don’t judge.

“I may have envisioned something a little more… military like,” I admit. Okay, fine. I may have thought they would all be out target practicing.

“This isn’t the military,” Tim agrees. “Anniston has worked hard to make this a home for all of us. The only things left of the military are our workouts and strict schedules.”

Uh-oh. “Did you mess up your schedule, you know, sleeping over?”

Wow. Way to make that sound grown up, Milah.

Tim chuckles. “No. I’m—”

“No longer a virgin!”

I startle at the collective cheers as we enter the family room.

“Do you think they need pool boys?” Pe whispers loudly in my ear. “We volunteer as tribute.”

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