“Ladies,” he said, pulling the first plate off the tray. “Who gets the sausage sandwich?” Six hands flew up around the table, and then a riot of giggling erupted. “I’ll take that sausage off your hands, Jax.” A breathy blonde fluttered her eyelashes at him. Moon Beam Parker, with her waist-length, stick straight hair and pale blue eyes, wasn’t one to shy away from the Pierce men.
