Page 25 of The Paris Roommates: Dean
“It was watchable,” Kyle admitted, his lips twitching. “Better thanCandidemaybe.”
Kyle had to be jerking Doc’s chain because Dean couldn’t imagine him reading that tome.
“Not another word,” Sawyer warned. “I’m dying on the inside.”
“But Sawyer,” Thea protested. “I think that famous quote from Mr. Darcy has to be something Voltaire would have agreed with.My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.”
Everyone burst out laughing.
“I’m going to have to use that line at the picnic,” Dean said, shoulders shaking now.
“No, Jacqueline will say it after seeing whatever crazy boxers you wear,” Brooke managed between puffs of laughter.
“So I should go for the ones with ‘The Legend’ written across the top of my…ahem…legendary assets?”
Sawyer and Kyle coughed out laughs while Madison and Brooke gave eye rolls. Thea blushed a little, her usual reaction to such talk.
“I still say Sawyer is the perfect chaperone for the happy couple,” Brooke added, waggling her fingers his way.
That killed Sawyer’s laughter. “Well, I vote for Madison. She’s clearly been bonding with Pierre on the sly. I thought you were going to go ape shit if that chick moved in on your parrot.”
“He’s not my parrot,” Madison corrected, “and we all agreed he’d have a home here. I mean, imagine what it would do to him if she changed her mind a second time? Besides, I don’t go back on my word.”
“Not even to a parrot?” Sawyer asked. “Sorry, it’s the closet philosopher in me.”
“No, not even to a parrot,” she said with a straight face.
Right, Dean thought. Loyalty. Friendship. Laughter. Those were the things his roommates venerated above all else. “I still say Pierre and the beautiful Jacqueline have something to do with my ‘It’ idea. You just wait and see.”
“Let’s get the cave first, shall we?” Kyle reminded him.
Not as if he needed reminding. He knew what was at stake, but he planned to get the girlandhave his “It” idea. This was Paris, after all—a place where magical things happened.
CHAPTERSIX
Thea sighed as Jean Luc’s arms came around her as she finished laying her apricot walnut bread in her baker’s couche.
“I missed you when I woke,” he said in his ever sexy French, slowly kissing her neck in a way she swore was up there with eating a piping hot chocolate croissant right out of the oven, which would be ready shortly according to her digital timer.
“I hated to leave you,mon amour.” She turned and smiled as she saw that he was blissfully nude, something he swore was the morning uniform for a Parisian straight out of bed. “I needed to bake and let some ideas Dean suggested for the website’s bakery cook up here.” She tapped her temple. “So to speak.”
That phrase she finished in English, something they’d agreed she would do if she didn’t know how to say it in French. They mostly spoke in French to her help fluency. She was progressing with the language, but she still had a long way to go, and she told Sawyer she felt like that Sisyphus guy who had to keep rolling a boulder uphill. Talk about the recipe for an awful life.
He ran his hands down her curves before tugging playfully at her apron strings, causing her belly to tighten with desire, a sensation so new and wonderful it was absolutely life-changing.
Her delicious life was a pretty simple recipe these days, and she had herself and her roommates to thank for it for coming back to Paris.
Recipe for:MyPerfectlyDelicious Life
Date: NOW
Prep time: Lots of love and intention every day
Ingredients: MyamourJean Luc, my Paris roommates, Nanine, bread, and preparing for my new bakery! Also self-confidence, commitment, and dedication.
Hard-to-find ingredients: NONE but if anything came up, I’ve learned the magic of asking for—and accepting—help.
Notes: I have the best fiancé, friends, and two women I love with complete maternal devotion (Jean Luc’s mother has joined Nanine there). Beyond that, my life is full of love, laughter, baking, and sex with Jean Luc!!! I’m also rocking a new look, from my new hairstyle all the way down to my sometimes cute, sometimes sexy shoes in my big size of forty-two, no less. I am the luckiest woman in the world.
