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“Honeyeh,” I correct, my lips thinning over my teeth as I glare.

“Honeyeh,” Killian booms from the door. Did my entire family arrive in a caravan? “Look at you.”

“Who’s Honeyeh?” Chloe asks, looking gorgeous in a pale green strapless gown, her hair twisted up in a sleek updo.

Arabella waves Chloe forward.

Killian lets his wife go, and joins us, coming to stand on Ryker’s other side. “Honeyeh is moving through the ranks quickly, I see.”

“You’ve met her?” Gris asks.

“We all have,” Killian answers with that shit grin he’s so good at.

Gris and Rush share a matching look of confusion, but I cut my hand through the air. “We’ll discuss this later, other guests are arriving.”

“She was a waitress at my wedding,” Killian goes on like I haven’t spoken. Fucker ignores everything everyone says all the time. “And Triston hired her as a maid earlier this week.”

I hate that he shared that, and I feel this deep, pit-of-the-stomach regret that I made her house staff. I should have made her an assistant right away if I was going to employ her. I don’t want anyone disrespecting her. Fuck.

“A maid?” Ryker asks. “Do you have her dress in a miniskirt and thigh-highs? Does she use her duster on you? Do you?—”

I punch his shoulder. Hard. Difficult in my tuxedo, but I make it work. “Shut the fuck up right now.”

Ryker grabs his arm, scowling. “Jesus.”

“Oh yeah. And he’s really fucking possessive of her.” Killian laughs. “I would have led with that, but then I would have missed out on Triston punching you in evening attire.”

“Shit,” Gris gives a small laugh as he wags his eyebrows. “This is going to be interesting.”

“Honeyeh,” my voice is razor sharp in a way that makes every one of my brothers look at me with intense interest. I’m doing it again. Acting like a surly prick.

“Triston,” she says as she reaches her hand out to me. She’s drifted a few feet away as she’s talked with Arabella and Chloe. But as her fingers lace through mine, she allows me to pull her into my side.

Her body touches mine and I relax, a long breath leaving my lungs as I move her hand to my other so I can wrap my arm around her waist. “I’m sorry to interrupt but the line of guests to greet is growing long.”

“Of course,” she tightens her fingers in mine. “My apologies for keeping them waiting.”

“A maid?” Gris grumbles next to me. “I don’t believe it.”

I ignore him as I wave the mayor of Las Vegas forward.

I let go of Honeyeh’s fingers so that I can shake hands, but I keep my other arm around her back, keep her pressed into my side, as I smile and make small talk.

She is everything I hoped she’d be. Polite, charming, beautiful. Dare I use the word polished? She helps me ease the guests into the party with a grace fit for a queen.

I would know.

By the time we’re done with the receiving line and moving into the ballroom, I know I need to find a way to get Honeyeh naked and in my bed soon.

I’m the sort of man who always gets what he wants, it’s just a matter of developing the right plan.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Honeyeh

The first hourof the benefit passes in a blur. I expected Triston to release me from his side to do whatever it is he needs to do at this party.

Instead, he’s had his hand on this spot just above my behind, leading me around the room as we have conversation after conversation with people and I try to remember their names.