Page 11 of A Pack of Lies and a Big Bad Wolf

"Rose called me His Royal Hiney at the breakfast table this morning," he says, his cold gray gaze fixing on me. “Funny. She’s never said anything like that to me before.”

“No!” I gasp, and clap my hand to my chest. "That's terrible. Who would teach her such a thing?”

He sweeps me with one quick, narrow-eyed glance. "I have a suspicion."

The kitchen is timber and stone, lit low. There's a prime rib resting on a carving board, crusted black with pepper, pink through the middle. Next to it is a pan of roasted potatoes, rosemary sprinkled on them. A large white china bowl holds asparagus and creamy hollandaise sauce. And on the counter are six glass dishes of chocolate mousse under plastic wrap, cold enough that the glass has gone cloudy.

I sweep the counter with a suspicious look.

Prime rib. Roast potatoes. Asparagus. Chocolate mousse, which is the one dessert I know how to make and the one I would eat out of a boot at a bus station. I love me some mousse.

These are all my absolute favorites, and I haven’t been able to afford prime rib or chocolate mousse in years. I only get to eat asparagus because we grew our own.

"How did you know?" I demand. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or appalled. I’m going with appalled. How did you find all this out, stalker-boy?”

He gestures at the kitchen table. "Sit down."

"Kieran!” It is so exasperating how he ignores my questions.

"The food was in the freezer. I cooked it." He shrugs and picks up the carving knife.

I scowl at him. "Mousse doesn't come out of a freezer. It takes four hours to set. You made it this morning."

"Did I?" He carves two slabs off the roast, the good pink center, and puts them on a plate. He adds a pile of potatoes and then the asparagus. He sets it down on the table, which has been set with bone china.

I cross my arms over my chest. "Did Stephen tell you?"

"Eat."

"Talk!” I order him, but just then my stomach lets out a mortifying growl.

"Olivia." He looks amused. "Your food is getting cold."

I sit down. I mean, there’s prime rib sitting there, juicy and warm, marbled with fat, taunting me. I'm not made of stone.

The first bite of prime rib sends a rush of pure pleasure through me. I let out a low moan of appreciation.

Kieran grins at me. “Would you and the prime rib like some time alone?”

I chew and swallow, and then stab the prime rib with my fork, looking him in the eye while I do so. “Please. I actually like the prime rib. I’m not the least bit angry at it. It’s delicious and it doesn’t try to order me around. When it comes to slabs of meat, it’s my clear favorite.”

He laughs, a warm, rich sound, and sits down facing me. We both attack our food with gusto, and for the next few minutes there is nothing but the delectable flavors of the buttery, salty potatoes and the juicy prime rib and the delectable tang of the asparagus and sauce.

Then he sets down his fork. "Tell me about your grandparents."

I make a point of cutting a piece of meat, shoving it in my mouth, and chewing slowly, while avoiding his gaze.

He gestures impatiently. I’m sure His Royal Hiney isn’t used to having his royal commands ignored. "Both sides. Start anywhere."

I swallow, and take a sip of iced tea before I answer. "Why?"

He looks mildly exasperated. "Because we need to fill in all the blanks, and your brother doesn’t seem to know anything about your family history.”

"My father's parents are dead. He inherited everything. He came from a big old pack family. They’re into cattle and sheep.” I go after a potato. "My mother's parents I've never met."

Kieran looks up. "Never?” He cocks his head to the side.

"Never. Not once. No visits, no phone calls, no birthday cards." I shrug.