Desiree’s POV
“Nothing,” Zachary and I blurted out at the exact same time, making Eloise who was standing by the doorway, to dart her eyes between my guilty expression and Zachary's stiff posture. She was holding a tray and a small porcelain bowl.
Behind her, Brandon and Grayson were practically wrestling to get through the door first, one holding a crystal pitcher of warm water and the other a bowl of what smelt like the richest chicken soup in the North.
Sounds like a new move on making me a puppet while being pregnant for their baby.
“Nothing?” Eloise gave me a suspicious glare. “You two look like you're plotting a heist,” Eloise said, her voice teasing. She set the tray on the nightstand. “Eat, dearest. You need the strength for all the ‘nothing’ you're doing.”
Brandon shoved
