Holden stood suddenly, his phone buzzing. “Be right back.”
Emmett watched Holden walk out the front door with his phone to his ear. “I didn’t order for him, I made a few adjustments.” He turned toward me, letting his gaze rake over my face.
My mouth hitched up. “Right. Adjustments.”
“The guy barely cooks for himself, and when he does, it’s something sad like Mr. Noodle.”
My mouth fell open. “Hey, what’s wrong with Mr. Noodle?”
He gave me a look. “Do not tell anyone you eat Mr. Noodle or our whole cover will be blown. No one would believe I’d marry a woman who ate Mr. Noodle.”
A laugh bubbled out of me just as the door opened and a familiar nasally voice cut through my thoughts.
“Max,” Chuck called, snapping his fingers to get Max’s attention, who was currently taking a customer’s or
