When he walked in, Rachel was filling coffee cups and setting stacks of blueberry waffles in front of the guests. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, and there was flour on her cheek. She was wearing a little snowflake-patterned apron. An apron. She met him in the doorway, ostensibly to shove a hot mug into his hands, and whispered, “You didn’t tell me they’d be here in minutes.” “I didn’t know.” He eyed her attire. “You look like a regular Suzy Homemaker.” “I had to cover up the fact that I’m not wearing a bra.” He choked on his first sip, drawing the gazes of everyone in the room. “Mornin’, Mace,” Rosie said. Mason nodded at him, noted the tight and drawn expression and frowned. “Marlayna didn’t come with you?” “She’s...pretty pissed I didn’t tell her why we were really coming up here.”
