Page 109 of The Paris Roommates: Dean
He shoved him without heat, making him laugh. “Funny, Kyle.”
“I don’t normally get involved on the marketing side, but I’d be happy to film the reconciliation for you.” His mouth was twitching. “I think Pierre’s fans would love it.”
“I will help, Dean,” Pierre called out, his precision hearing another marvel about his species.
Pierre immediately began to whistle “To Love You More” as the conga line continued. He decided to join it and snagged Kyle’s arm as he did.
Dean fought to keep a smile on his face as they danced around the kitchen island. He wondered if there was a quote about sharing a victory in the company of friends. He’d have to ask Doc.
Then Pierre landed on his shoulder and squawked, “Celine Dion is the answer!”
He couldn’t help but laugh.
The lengths a guy went to in order to win his girl back.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
The next day, Dean stood in the entryway with his roommates gathered around him, ready for Operation Jacqueline despite his queasy stomach.
“Wish me luck,” he said, punching up his smile.
“Speaking of…” Brooke sailed into the salon and returned with a gift bag. “We thought you might like a lucky shirt.”
He bit his lip as his emotions got the better of him. “No one thought to bring this out when I was dressing?”
“Some of us thought you having to strip in the entryway would be a good way to break up your nerves,” she responded with a smirk.
He took the bag and drew out the shirt. “Likely story,” he said and then froze when he read the word emblazoned on the front.
SOULMATE.
“I recommended not opening your jacket until you’re with Jacqueline,” Sawyer suggested. “There are a lot of lonely women in Paris. I run into them when I’m drawing along the Seine.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Doc,” he said as he changed shirts, grateful no one gave a whistle.
When he was ready, he took Pierre’s cage from Madison. “You’re sure you have everything?” she asked in a rare mother hen moment. “The agreement to split half the cave with her? The special Bluetooth speaker Sawyer bought you so you can blast your Celine Dion song?”
He glared at her and then leaned in and kissed her cheek. She gave a lurch of surprise but didn’t say anything snarky, thank God. He’d decided he was going to be extra nice to her and Kyle now that he knew what was going on between them.
He didn’t dare look at Kyle, who was in total business mode in a casual suit. It was a Saturday, but the weekends seemed to mean little to Kyle. He’d been at Nanine’s earlier with Brooke and Madison, overseeing the installation of the new banquettes for the restaurant.
Dean had decided to say nothing about what he’d noticed. Because if he breathed a word of it to the others, he wasn’t sure what might happen. Thea would get worried. Brooke would likely try and fix it. Sawyer might start talking about unrequited love affairs in literature and quoting Shakespeare and shit. Who could take that? So for now, his lips were zipped.
“You’re looking at me weird,” Madison commented, her eyes narrowing.
“No, he’s not,” Thea rushed to assure her. “He’s just nervous.”
He ducked out a hand to brush at her short black hair, mostly to cover up the thoughts likely written all over his face. “You have food in your hair.”
“I do?” She pushed his hand aside and finger-combed her curls briskly. “Anyone who says a chef’s life is glamourous doesn’t know shit.”
“At least your lover can dine off you.” Sawyer gestured to his splattered clothes and hands. “Mine would get paint poisoning.”
At the word “lover,” Madison flushed a startling shade of beetroot.
“Jean Luc loves that I’m a baker,” Thea said with her usual cheer, sweetly oblivious to the subtext. “It may not be glamorous, but it’s delicious.”
“Forget glamorous,” Brooke said, straightening Dean’s collar and the line of his suit jacket. “You look good, Dean. Now put on your game face and go win back your girl. Call me if you need backup. We agreed I’m the point of contact.”
