Page 71 of The Bro Pact
“Sounds like a pretty awesome way to retire, if you ask me.” I can only hope to be this happy and healthy when I’m their age.
“Steaks should be done, if you wanna grab the sides, honey.”
“Need any help?” Kyle asks sweetly, taking Socks from her.
“Oh, sure that would be great.”
Kyle passes the kitten to me, disappearing into the RV and coming back with an armful of plates, cups, and silverware. Greta’s holding a big bowl of something and a pitcher of what looks like iced tea.
“Greta made potato salad,” Kyle says with a wide smile, his eyes shimmering with amusement. “I told her how you’re obsessed with my mom’s, and now it’s become some sort of competition.”
“It sure has, darling! I expect your honest opinion, Mr. Warren.”
I chuckle, feeling a little put on the spot, but completely up for it.
“You got it.” I give her a salute, letting her know I will take this potato salad challenge very seriously.
The plots at this campground have picnic tables in the corners, so we make our way over. Kyle sets the table, while Dan serves up everyone’s steaks, and Greta pours the sweet tea.
Even though we just met, it feels comfortable here, and my stomach grumbles at the rich, buttery scent of the perfectly grilled steak before me. Greta plops a huge spoonful of potato salad onto my plate, and I sprinkle salt and pepper over everything, ready to dive in.
Holy shit, this food is amazing.
After too many sandwiches, almost anything would taste good, but Dan’s steak is cooked to perfection, and Greta’s creamy, tangy potato salad rivals Mama Carol’s.
Although I wouldn’t tell her that.
I fully intend to butter up both women about their potato salad.
“Mmm. Greta. The extra splash of pickle juice you added really gives it an extra kick. I’m diggin’ it.”
Kyle nods his agreement, shoveling another bite into his mouth, making our hosts chuckle.
“You sure know how to make an old lady smile,” Greta says kindly, the skin around her eyes and mouth wrinkling as she grins warmly at me.
“He can always make me smile, too, so I know exactly how you feel, Greta,” Kyle murmurs unexpectedly.
My eyes dart to the side, staring at him.
He turns his head to stare back, and for a moment we seem to forget where we are until Kyle blinks and clears his throat, focusing back on his dinner.
When I look back up, Greta is watching us with a peculiar expression on her face while her husband is obliviously sawing into his steak and chewing away. She gives me a knowing wink and takes a swig of her sweet tea as if she didn’t just observe a private moment between Kyle and me.
We finish up quickly because it’s just so good, inhaling a delicious homemade banana pudding for dessert. Greta insists we go home and relax with the kitten when we offer to help clean up.
So, we give her and Dan our thanks once again, and head home to cuddle with our kitten for the night.
It’s going to be hard for Kyle to part with him in the morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
KYLE
“Iknow what’ll cheer you up,” Ren whispers as we lie in bed kissing. He makes his way down my neck, flicking his tongue out to tease me with the cool metal of his piercing.
“Fuck, I miss that cat,” I whine for the millionth time since we took Socks back to the animal sanctuary. I know I should be happy he’s getting adopted into a good home, but I just wish it could have been me.
“Stop thinking about the cat, and let me make you feel good,” Ren murmurs against my skin, continuing his kisses and nips.
