“How’s it going guys?” I ask, sticking my head in the door. I don’t work the line anymore. Mindy’s Corner has grown fast enough that we hired a real chef and staff within six months, and now, two years after opening, we’re going strong.

“Doing well, Mr. Steele,” Jake, the head chef, says. “Hey, when you’ve got a minute, I want you to try something.”

“What?” I ask, curious. “So I can prep my stomach while I unload the van. I know how you are.”

Jake laughs. He knows I’ve had to work doubly hard the past year to keep my body in good shape. The man’s a good cook. “Yeah, well, I’m going to put it on the menu starting Monday, so if you don’t want to try the Trenton now, I can’t be blamed if your son doesn’t like it. Where is he, anyway?”

“Hanging out with his godparents,” I reply, stepping closer. The pizza looks delicious, and I have to smile as I cut a slice and sample it. “Jesus, this is good. Has Mindy tried any?”

“Of course, the Boss is upstairs being the Boss,” Jake says. “So any tweaks for the recipe?”

“Not a one,” I say, patting him on the shoulder. “You know, when you said you wanted to start a line of pizzas, I thought you were nuts. I thought you were double nuts when you decided to name them all after famous steels and swords. Thank you, I don’t know if this one’s going to bump the Valerian from the popularity list, but it’s damn good. My son will be proud once he has teeth.”

Jake gives me a grin, and I go upstairs, letting the kitchen staff unload the van of tonight’s supplies. I find Mindy, looking more radiant than ever, making up a frozen drink. “Okay, the leprechaun rainbow frappe,” she tells the two new girls who we just hired to work the coffee bar. In the corner is Sarah, who we snatched from the Beangal’s Den and made the front of the house assistant manager, prepping for opening. “Now watch carefully. You don’t want to mint-nuke someone.”

She’s confident and sexy, and I have to admit my cock stirs in my pants watching her at work. She finishes, tucking the shamrock stirrer into the glass and presenting it. “Remember, if you screw it up, just grin, give the customer a little bit of charm, and you’ll be cool most of the time. Now practice for me.”

“I always thought it was the low-cut blouses that got you out of trouble,” I tease her as she comes over and wraps her arms around my neck, giving me a kiss. I reach down to squeeze her ass, growling lightly. “Don’t make me spill chocolate on you as an excuse to get you upstairs to the shower again.”

Mindy chuckles, wiggling her hips against me until my cock is throbbing in my pants, and I’m glad that I’m wearing my cafe apron. “Yeah, well, maybe we can look at that idea of getting Trent a little sister tonight.”

I pat her ass, grinning. “For sure. By the way, Bri says that our Trent and her Alicia are meant for each other.”

Mindy laughs, shaking her head. “Remind me again how lucky we are not to have taken Roxy’s idea on our son’s name?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, laughing. “Maybe if our next child’s a boy, we can go with her idea. After all, Richard’s a fine name for a boy.”

“I am not naming my son Dick Steele,” Mindy says, shaking her head.

I have to agree with that one, both of us turning as there’s a crash from the coffee area to see a pile of green slush on the floor. One of the new girls, Rose, looks at us with fear in her eyes. “Mrs. Steele, I’m sorry, I just . . .”

“Did the same damn thing I’ve done a hundred other times,” Mindy says calmly. “Get it cleaned up and try again. Sarah will give you a hand. Remember, you’ve got afternoon shift tomorrow, and with St. Paddy’s Day coming up, those things are flying out the door.”

“On pink unicorns,” I joke, earning a stuck out tongue from Mindy. “Hey, guess what Martha told me? She found us a house. Or, as she called it, Step One of the Steele Estate Project.”

“No way,” Mindy says, grinning. “Where?”

“A couple of miles out on the other side of town,” I tell her, laughing. “It’s not as big as Gavin’s ranch, and it’s nowhere near the size of John’s mansion, but it’s got plenty of space and three acres for Trent and however many more we want to play and grow.”

Mindy bites her lip, nodding. “When can we go see it?”

“Sunday afternoon,” I tell her. “Now, get this . . . you won’t believe who the owner is.”

“Who?”

“Your favorite banned customer.”

Mindy gawks, then grins at me, shaking her head. It’s been a running joke between us, one that’s crept to the whole staff, really. “No freakin’ way.”

Motherhood’s finally found a way to tone down Mindy’s foul mouth. At least a little.

“Way. Martha confirmed it herself. Apparently, Miss Fake Fur and Attitude has been banned from every coffee shop in town for the past six months. The last one, she went on an epic rant where she threw an iced pumpkin swirl and swore that they totally sucked and she was coming to Mindy’s Corner.”

“Too bad we have a very strict no fake fur, no fake bitches allowed policy.”

I laugh, pulling my wife in for another hug. “Yep. But her husband’s being transferred somewhere for work. I’d hate to be that poor schmuck, but it’s not my problem. I’m only worried about two things—my queen and our new castle.”

“Castle, huh?” Mindy purrs. “I like the sound of that, my king.”

It’s good to be the king.

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