Playing Hard to Master (Masters Unleashed 2)

Everly’s cheeks went pink, but she glanced at Ambrose and laughed, at least. “You should see your face.”

“I’m just trying to decide which nursing home to put them in when they’re old,” Ambrose grumbled. “I need to find somewhere that believes in feeding the residents TV dinners every night.”

His father clucked his tongue in mock disapproval. “Now, now, son. I know you’re annoyed, but luckily, your memory is short, and you’re not that cruel.”

Everly opened her mouth to respond, her eyes dancing with mischief. He arched a brow at his girl and she shut her mouth, satisfying herself with a giggle.

His parents turned away to fiddle with the gravy, and he grabbed Everly’s ass hard and gave her a warning look. A fire lit behind her eyes, and her expression softened. Unable to deny himself, he leaned down and kissed her, pulling her to him and enjoying the feel of her in his arms. Having her here with his family like this made him happier than he ever would have guessed. He loved having her to himself, but there were so many parts of his life that would be better if only she were there with him. Soon. As long as he could convince her he’d had his reasons to lie, and that he’d never meant to hurt her.

She stretched up against him, trying to get closer, and his body growled for hers. Maybe after dinner he could show her his old room. Trying to seduce her into fucking under his parents’ roof would probably be a challenge, even if he got her good and subby first.

Everly was watching him, a look of adoration on her face. A protective and tender ache started under his ribs. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for this woman.

Thank God for Kate telling him he needed to get a proper haircut for her wedding. He might never have met Everly otherwise. A series of astounding coincidences had brought them together, which made him wonder again about fate and other unseeable forces.

Loving someone this deeply couldn’t be an accident.

He studied her heart-shaped face. Every fleck of gold in her amber eyes held him transfixed. Time, like his heart, slowed.

When he was an old, old man, he wanted to die looking into those eyes.

His mom cleared her throat, and he reluctantly let Everly go.

“Quit snogging and help with the food.” His mother laughed, and smacked the back of his head affectionately.

The table was already set, so it only took a few minutes to get the multitude of dishes out into the dining room. He struggled to think straight again, like he’d fallen into a well and couldn’t climb out.

“Mom, how much do you think we eat? There’s enough food here for an army.”

She sighed. “I still cook like you and your brother are teenagers. It was like you had a hollow leg back then.”

Oh fuck. Not stories from his childhood. Although, considering she was willing to avoid talking about his financial situation, he couldn’t complain.

“It’s so funny. When Ambrose was a little boy, we just couldn’t get him to eat. Pizza, chicken nuggets, grilled cheese . . . We tried everything, even the overprocessed stuff. He’d turn his nose up at it and ask to go watch TV. He got so skinny that we had to hang on to him if there was a brisk wind.” Jody shook her head. “Then one day, it was our anniversary, and we took the boys out somewhere nice for the first time. I think Ambrose was about six, and Augustine was five. When they brought the food, Ambrose inhaled everything on his plate, plus most of Augustine’s, and was picking off of ours too! You could have knocked me over with a feather!”

“So it wasn’t that he was a picky eater,” his father said. “He just couldn’t stomach the kid slop we kept trying to feed him. After that, it was smooth sailing.” He chuckled. “Except when he started getting fascinated with expensive cheeses and cuts of meat. We had to head him off at the pass with that business.”

Jody handed a platter of ham down to Everly. “We always say that’s why he . . .” His mother paused, looking horrified.

Ambrose realized what she’d been about to say, and his heart almost stopped. It was a long-standing joke in his family that he’d worked so hard to succeed in business because he needed to finance his fancy-cheese habit.

“Got so good at cooking,” she finished uncomfortably.

They filled their plates in silence. Crap. How could he fix the awkwardness?

“Hello? Merry Christmas!” a booming male voice rang out. The front door closed with a bang.

Augustine? What on earth was he doing there?

His brother strode into the room, grinning. “I escaped. They ate so early over there, they’ve moved on to board games. I told Charlotte that I’d be back for dessert, but really I was hoping you hadn’t eaten yet. They’re on a low-carb diet over there. Very sad for someone like me.”

He kissed their mother’s cheek and shook hands with their father, then slapped Ambrose on the back as he went to the vacant seat beside him.

“And how’s the boss man tonight? It’s always strange seeing you when you’re not sitting behind your desk. Did you have to pencil this into your agenda, or was this a standing date?” Augustine grinned at him and sat down, filling his plate with the food that was within reach.

His parents handed him platters, sliding worried glances at Ambrose.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!