Page 46 of The Alpha's Protective Mate

Fortunately, she begins eating leisurely, and I turn my attention to the covered dishes. My eyes widen when I see the contents. Pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, waffles, and I’m pretty sure those are fresh, handmade sausages. My eyes swivel toward my stove. It looks clean, the way I left it yesterday morning. There is no way Robert cooked all these things without me waking up.

But he left this for me.

I stare at the food.

Would a man who wants to kill me get me this much food? Maybe this is like a last meal before he rips my head off…

If that’s the case, I should dig in.

The food tastes perfect, almost as if it were made by a professional at a cafe or a breakfast spot.

He probably thinks he did a good job of hiding the takeout boxes, I muse to myself, staring at the trash can across the room from me. I can see the white edges of the paper containers poking out.

I don’t normally eat so much, but today, I’ve got a massive appetite. By the time I finish, I would lick the plates clean if my cat weren’t staring at me with such disdain.

“You really need to work on your attitude, y’know,” I tell her, piling the empty plates together. “Because I might die tomorrow, or even today. Be nice to me.”

She puts her tail in the air and walks out of the room.

“She loves me,” I remind myself under my breath. “She’s just emotionally stunted, that’s all.”

The food in my belly goes a long way toward calming me down. It’s quite likely that Robert is not angry at all. He left me breakfast, and he’s sending somebody to repair the damage he caused. That doesn’t sound like someone who plans to kill me.

I spend the better part of the next hour making myself a cup of soothing chamomile tea and trying to walk without crying.

I manage to find my cell phone, and I wince when I see all the missed calls from the cafe. I leave a quick message for Jazz telling her that I’m not feeling well and promising to show up tomorrow, on time. I hope she’s not too pissed at having to deal with the morning rush all by herself.

At one o’clock sharp, there’s a knock on the door. It’s a wolf shifter. My first instinct is to slam the door in his face, but he quickly says, “Alpha Montgomery sent me.”

He doesn’t look too pleased about being here, either, and as he makes his way into the kitchen, he casts me a curious look. No doubt wondering why his Alpha sent him here to fix a vampire’s kitchen.

He spends a couple minutes assessing the damage, then scratches his head. “I’ll have to put in a new counter surface. Do you want the same marble design, or do you want something different?”

I shrug. “Whatever you think is easier.”

He looks around the kitchen and scratches his head once again. “You’ve got this marble on every surface. If I change this, I’ll have to change it all. It’ll take me a day or two to locate this particular marble, but you’ll have to be prepared. If I can’t find it, I’ll have to do an entire rehaul of all your surfaces. That’s going to take up to a week or so. The Alpha said you work on weekdays, so how am I supposed to get in?”

I press my lips together. That is indeed a concern.

“I have cameras everywhere in the apartment, so you can be here by yourself when I’m at work. I’ll leave food and drink for you in the fridge. I’ll also leave a copy of the key with the security guard downstairs. He can let you up. How much is all of this going to cost?”

“Nothing,” the man replies slowly, once again giving me that same curious look. “By the way, if you don’t mind me askin’, how do you know Alpha Montgomery?”

I don’t really know how to answer that question.

“He owes me a favor,” I blurt out, not knowing what else to say.

The shifter seems to take my explanation at face value, nodding seriously. “Yeah, Alpha Montgomery always returns his favors. Okay then. I’ll need your contact details. I don’t like calling; I prefer messages, so keep an eye on your inbox. I might bring my son to help me finish the job faster, so don’t freak out if you see two of us in those cameras of yours. He’s a redhead, like you.”

I nod.

“Name’s Tommy Decker.” He holds out his hand. “You don’t have to worry about me, Miss. I don’t have a problem with bloodsuckers if they don’t have a problem with me.”

His blunt manner of speaking has me smiling. “Charlotte Beaumont. It’s nice to meet you.”

He shakes my hand before pulling out his phone and taking pictures of the marble design. He also pockets some of the broken pieces.

I see him out and lock the door before collapsing on my couch and staring up at the ceiling as if it has all the answers for me.

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