“I hope you liked the food.” Suddenly, our choice to go with hors d'oeuvres and appetizers seemed like a bad idea. He was such a big man—had he eaten his fill?
“It was delicious.” He stood facing me as he undid his pants and pulled them off without a trace of self-consciousness. When he was just in his underwear, he sat down next to me and took one of my hands in both of his. It was a gesture that warmed my heart. “Thank you for doing that for me.”
“It was all of us.” For some reason, I loved having my hand in his. His were just so big that they engulfed mine. It made me feel the same way I did when I snuggled up in a huge quilt.
“It was your idea.” His blue eyes were steady on mine.
“Yes, but everyone got on board. Tonio made the arrangements with the restaurant, Denver invited the people from the club, and Austin made the cake.”
For the first time since we’d surprised him at the restaurant, Knox looked astonished. “Wait, what was that last part?”
“The cake was made by Austin.”
Knox shook his head and feigned disbelief. “The cake was made in Boston?”
I giggled. “I know it sounds hard to believe, but the restaurant doesn’t do full cakes, just dessert trays, and Austin was insistent that you have a real cake.”
The big man next to me chuckled softly. “It’s just so hard to believe.”
“I know.” Denver had confided to me that when they were kids, he and Austin had always shared cake for their birthday celebration, which bothered Austin. So I guess he’d decided that it was important for Knox to have a real cake. “He had help, though.”
“From who?”
“From everyone who didn’t want the house to burn down. We gave him pointers.”
“You bake?” Knox asked.
“I bake more than Austin, but that’s not saying much.”
“Unbelievable,” Knox said, shaking his head again. “It was pretty good, too.”
“A bit lopsided, but yeah, that chocolate icing was delicious.”
“Better than those delicate little one-bite things Romano’s served.”
“Definitely.” I was pleased that Austin, of all people, had known what Knox would prefer. Hopefully, that helped Knox see that he wasn’t the outsider of the group.
We finished getting ready, and when we climbed into bed, I wasted no time curling up next to him. His arm went around me automatically while I pressed my cheek against his bare chest.
For a while we lay in companionable silence, neither of us particularly sleepy. Finally, I spoke up, my voice quiet in the dark room. “Can I ask you a favor?”
Knox gave a quick laugh. “A real one this time?”
I grinned. “You have to admit, it got you to the restaurant.”
“Honestly, I never suspected a thing. I didn’t know you were that good of an actor.” His chest rumbled when he spoke, and I slid my fingers back and forth along his impressive abs. “I should’ve known you were too smart to meet up with your asshole ex.”
“I’m never going to see him again,” I said firmly. “Unless I encounter him on the street someday. If that happens, I hope I’m standing next to you.”
Knox was silent for a moment, but I sensed my response pleased him. “Or all of us,” he said softly.
“That would really send him reeling.” I could just picture it—Clint gaping as I stood in the center of four hot-as-sin men.
“What was the favor?” Knox asked, breaking through the revenge fantasy playing out in my mind.
“Oh. Well, I talked with Ronnie about my story.”
“What’d she have to say?”
Briefly, I filled him in. “She really thinks I can publish sooner rather than later.” That fact still blew my mind, but I was determined to work my ass off if there was even a chance of that happening. “She says the biggest hurdle is the cover.”
“What’s the problem with it? The stock photo sites I submit my photos to have a million shots of half-nude dudes.”
I giggled. “She says that most of those half-nude dudes have been used on covers many times over. She told me how big-name authors hire photographers and do their own photoshoots so their covers will be unique. I’m not even published yet, but I do know an excellent photographer.”
“And a couple of guys who aren’t strangers to being shirtless,” Knox said.
“Exactly. So will you help me out?”
“What do you think?” He kissed my temple and let his lips linger there.
“I think you’re pretty great,” I said, my voice lower and softer than before.
“You’re pretty damn amazing yourself,” he murmured. I was still cradled in his arms. His fingers slid gently up and down my side, his knuckles grazing my breast. “Would you let me show you exactly how amazing I think you are?”
I caught my breath, thinking through the implications of what he just said. I didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do, but I could think of several possibilities.