“Dude!” Stiles exclaimed, shoving a tray of steaming lasagna into Scott’s waiting arms. “Stop drooling on the food and put it on the table.”
Scott grinned, carefully juggling the bowl of bread and now the tray. “But it smell so good.”
Stiles waved the spatula he’d used to dish out the lasagna threateningly. “I will hand you over to the rest of the pack if you eat all the food before they get here.”
Scott ducked his head, guilty, as he carefully made his way over to the dining room table where four lasagnas, five bowls of rolls, two huge bowls of salad, and three apple pies already sat.
Stiles wasn’t sure the whole pack was going to fit in his house, but some of them could sit outside. Despite inadequate seating space, everyone was definitely going to eat.
He’d turned back to the oven to pull out the last of the pies when he saw Scott glance toward the front door.
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