He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 66

Dear Diary

Too many people, always starving.

***

Monday and Tuesday slid by in a blur that felt almost gentle. I had downtime with my guys, then a girls‘ spa day–Maren came too, and I’d decided I genuinely liked her–and after that I shifted into work mode: lists, schedules, portions. On my days off, I wanted the other shift covered, fed, not scraping by

on whatever was left. Nobody was getting shorted on my watch.

All day Tuesday, I mapped out the week and then went hunting for everything I’d need: breakfast,

lunch, dinner–every day. By the time my guys and I rolled up to the register with cart after cart, the

cashier stared like she’d spotted a circus.

“Is this one of those extreme coupon people?” she asked.

I snorted. “No. It’s for work. Although

come prepared next time.”

for

Coupons. I’ll talk to my boss and

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“What do you do?”

“I’m the chef for the Hollywood fire station.”

Her face lit up. “That’s badass. So you just… hang around hot firefighters all day?”

I tipped my chin toward my guys. “These two are my personal, hot firefighters,” I said, and threw them

a wink. They both grinned.

“Lucky,” she said.

“I know,” I chirped back, practically buzzing.

When the total finally popped up, it landed a little over two grand. By the time we loaded up, Milo’s truck bed looked like a grocery store exploded in it.

“Baby,” Jace said, staring at the bags, “what the hell are you planning to make?”

“A lot,” I said. “Three meals a day for fifteen people adds up fast. I’m feeding our shift and stocking the next one too. I’ve got stuff for enchiladas, steak roll–ups, spicy spaghetti with marinara, deli subs, meatball subs, vegetables, salads, stromboli, breakfast casseroles, chicken broccoli casserole, desserts, snack items–the works.”

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I kept going, ticking it off like a mission briefing. “Tonight I’m baking muffins for the morning- blueberry, lemon, cinnamon swirl, and chocolate chip. When I get there, I’ll scramble eggs and do bacon. Lunch is meatball subs with chips. Dinner’s chicken broccoli casserole. And in between? Fruit and veggie trays with dips so everyone can grab something.”

Milo laughed under his breath. “We’re all going to need a heavier workout routine with you feeding us

like this.”

“Already handled,” I said. “The Chief gave me everyone’s height and weight. I’ve put together workout plans you can add on top of your normal routine. Use them or don’t. I even threw in yoga and stretch

es.”

Jace’s brows lifted. “Damn, baby. Is that what you were doing on the couch yesterday while we

watched America’s Worst Cook?”

“Yep. Me and my laptop were locked in,” I said. “I just need to print the menus so you can see what’s

coming for the next couple weeks.”

Milo shook his head, impressed. “The Chief made the right call hiring you. We’re about to be the best-

fed firehouse in Florida.”

Wednesday finally hit and I couldn’t sit still. We pulled out at seven, after a brutal, greedy round of

wake–up sex. I’d woken up to one dick in my ass and one in my pussy. How I’d slept through the prep, I

honestly didn’t know–blame the bedtime sex from the night before.

On the drive in Milo’s truck, my brain ran numbers like it always did. My birth control shot was due in a

few weeks. Thanksgiving was next week.

“What are we doing for Thanksgiving?” I asked. “We’re off. I can prep everything for the next shift and

leave it ready–sides just need warming and they’ll only have to cook the turkey. I’ll leave directions for

that. But for us–what’s the plan? I think my parents might come. I talked to them a couple weeks ago

and they wanted to visit, and I wouldn’t put it past them to show up for Thanksgiving.”

“We always do it at Lydia’s,” Milo said. “She loves Thanksgiving. It’s her favorite.”

“Do you think she’d let me help?”

“Of course. Call her, Princess. I’ll text you her number.”

I smiled. After breakfast, I told myself.

At the station, I took over the kitchen and dining area like it was mine. Eggs, bacon, the whole spread- and when I opened the pantry and found three bags of oranges that were about to go bad, I decided

they were becoming juice right then. No waste.

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Get Mert

The firefighters drifted in, one by one, taking seats at the table. I set down three overflowing bowls of scrambled eggs, stacked three packs of bacon, and lined up three pitchers of fresh orange juice. The muffins went into small baskets I’d brought, four baskets total, spaced along the table.

Their expressions were worth every second.

“Eat up,” I told them. “And on your bunks you’ll find a workout plan for each of you–something you can add to your regular routine. My boys joked you’d need extra workouts with how you’re about to be eating, and the Chief had the same concern. It’s optional. Your call. Enjoy.”

I walked off to a chorus of thank–yous, fixed myself a plate with a blueberry muffin, and poured a glass of OJ. I ate while I cleaned, moving automatically, letting the sounds of satisfied groans and murmured praise warm me from the inside out.

“What did you put in these eggs?” Brenna asked, sounding offended by how good they were. “They’re

insane.”

“Cream and garlic salt,” I said. “The cream makes them fluffier. My mom used milk forever, then one day we ran out and she used cream. I never went back.”

“That was amazing, Scar.”

I turned at the voice and found Dylan behind me with his plate and cup. Heat rushed straight to my face–Natalie’s conversation flashing through my mind like a neon sign.

“Thank you, Dylan,” I managed.

Milo slid in behind me, mouth at my neck, his presence claiming space. “Why’s my girl turning red

around you, Dylan?”

Dylan’s eyes widened. “Uh… no idea. I just said her food was good.”

Milo looked at me, and I couldn’t stop the nervous little laugh that escaped. I snatched Dylan’s dishes out of his hands and pivoted to the sink like it was an emergency.

“Scar,” the Chief said, catching me mid–motion, “you’re not cleaning. You cooked.”

“Yes, sir,” I squeaked.

I glanced between Milo and Dylan, then slid past Milo and fled before my face could get any hotter. I went straight to the fridge to start lunch, pulled out the meatballs I’d already formed, and grabbed

what I needed to build the sauce.

Milo appeared at my shoulder again, close enough that his words brushed my ear. “Beautiful… what’s with the blushing?”

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A shiver raced through me. I scanned the room–Dylan had disappeared.

“Are you jealous?” I asked, keeping it light.

“Yes,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

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“Milo,” I said, soft but firm, “how can you be jealous? You know I I… care about you and Jace. I’d never flirt. I’d never even entertain another man.”

His gaze pinned me, eyes sharp and heated. For a terrifying second I wondered if he’d caught the slip. I held his stare, measuring.

He blinked, then his attention dropped to my chest. My breathing had sped up, my tank rising and falling. Pink tank, black linen capris, pink slides–sparkly pink toenails peeking out.

“I’m possessive, Scar,” he said. “Not like Jace’s extreme version, but… watching my woman blush at another man does something to me. Something primitive.”

Relief eased through me. He hadn’t noticed the slip–this was about the blush.

“Okay,” I said, “but if I tell you why, you can’t say anything to Dylan or Natalie.”

Milo’s whole expression flipped–possessive heat replaced by bright, shameless curiosity. “Oh, hell. You’ve got tea? That’s different. Spill.”

I laughed at him. “Dylan has two adoptive brothers,” I said.

“Yeah–Logan and Clayton. So?”

“If you let me finish,” I said, giving him a look.

“Right. Sorry.” He kissed the tip of my nose and followed as I set everything down on the counter.

“Natalie and Dylan were together all weekend,” I said. “They got to know each other. Like… biblically.”

“Okaaaay,” he drawled, nodding slowly.

“And Dylan said he wanted her to meet his brothers. He kept talking about how they’ve shared everything since they were kids.” I lowered my voice. “Natalie got the impression he meant everything. Including her.”

Milo’s mouth dropped open. “No way. I’ve never gotten that vibe from him. Although…” He paused, eyes narrowing like he’d found a puzzle piece. “He did say something about wanting you when you cooked for us at the interview. Maybe that was a hint.”

“What?”

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Mera

He broke into a grin. “I’m messing with you, babe. He said it was a shame you were already taken because you’re hot and you can cook.”

Before I could respond, an alarm exploded through the station. I jolted so hard my heart slammed into

my ribs.

“Duty calls, Beautiful,” Milo said.

He leaned in, crushed his mouth to mine–hard, fast, possessive–and then he was sprinting away.

Jace barreled into the kitchen already in full gear, grabbed my face, and kissed me quick but deep.

“See you soon, Princess,” he said, and then he was gone too.

The alarms cut off, and the silence that followed felt wrong–thin and eerie. I stood there alone, staring

at the food spread out around me like it didn’t matter.

“Be careful,” I whispered into the quiet. “I love you.”

And right then, I knew I meant it.

But that was my secret to keep.

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