I burst into laughter.
“My what?”
He grinned, slow and wicked. “Kept man not to your taste? House husband. Trophy alpha? Whatever title you want to give him while you’re off being a breadwinner, it’s up to you. ... Love slave?”
“Neil!”
My face burned, but I couldn’t help it. The image hit me with the force of a tidal wave. The image of Dominic in a pressed apron, standing in a gleaming kitchen with a spatula in hand and a smile on his face was too much. By the Goddess, the spatula turned into a feather duster, him looking utterly bewildered by domestic chores. The absurdity of it was too much. My shoulders shook, tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and I had to press a hand to because I was laughing so hard.
I was pretty sure no alpha knew how to cook. That was a luna’s job, after a
