Page 40 of Protector

True. “And? So?”

Fallon huffs. “Fine. You want to hear me say it? Please, Jeannie. Please come downstairs and have something to eat.”

Damn it.

She got me.

“Give me five. I’ll be right down.”

You would think that the amount of different—and delicious—aromas coming out of the kitchen would be enough to overwhelm a shifter. Especially since I still haven’t eaten out of a combination of spite and nerves.

But no. I barely notice the food aromas because sea spray and sage is breaking my fucking heart.

Tristan.

I’m gonna kill Fallon. I should’ve known she was setting me up for something, but she pulled the ‘you owe me’ card and, well, I guess I did? The tacked on ‘please’ was just my kryptonite…

Why did I honestly think she’d go through the trouble of cooking me dinner when I refused the peanut butter and jelly sandwich earlier today? Probably because Lucas never would—not for a female who wasn’t his mate—and I never in a million years thought that Tristan would.

And yet, there he is. As I push the door to the kitchen in before I wimp out and don’t, I see him standing near the counter, ladling out scoops of mashed potatoes into a large bowl.

A dimple pops in his cheek when he sees me. His hands shake a little as he places the bowl on the counter, the wooden spoon back into the pot. Dipping them into the back pockets of his jeans as though eager to hide them, he nods a greeting at me.

“Jeannie.” His eyes flash—and I purposely darken mine. “You look amazing.”

Damn it. So does he.

His hair is back to its usual style, claw marks leaving tracks in the blond strands. He looks at home in a pair of low slung jeans and a worn grey t-shirt.

He looks amazing, but a part of me misses the mussed-up, wild, naked Beta I got to know…

I raise my eyebrows at him. “You came back to shower?”

He shakes his head. “No time. I took a run over to the Winter Creek and dunked myself in while Luc got me some clothes. I didn’t want to use the lake so soon after they fished that witch out of it, and I didn’t have any soap, but I didn’t really want to wash your scent off of me, either.”

His nostrils flare again and I know what he’s doing this time. He’s checking to see if I still smell like him, how brow furrowing when it’s obvious that I don’t.

It wasn’t on purpose, either. Figuring I would have the chance to get covered in his scent again ASAP, I used the body wash in the bathroom to scrub off all the cave dirt and gunk. After I figured out that Tristan didn’t think as fondly of our mating as I did, I was glad I swapped his scent for some watermelon fizz.

I wait for him to say something. Fuck. I want him to say something.

He exhales roughly. “So. You told me you were starving earlier. I hope you didn’t fill up too much while I was gone. I made dinner.”

My gaze darts over to the table full of at least six different dishes of food. Spaghetti and meatballs in one serving dish, a whole fish in another, a salad with strawberries and nuts on top that reminds me of this one I get from this little cafe in New Brunswick, and even popcorn. Freshly popped popcorn.

My favorites.

Interesting. It’s not like I told him about my tastes. I couldn’t. Talking about food in the cave was a major no-no because it just reminded us both how hungry we were. Maybe it’s one hell of a coincidence?—

“I hope it’s good. I, uh… I don’t usually cook much. Just during my rotation and it’s usually meat and potatoes.” He gestures behind him to the steak resting on a pan, plus the mashed potatoes I saw earlier. “I can fry up bacon. Do eggs. You want a sandwich, I’m your guy. But Fallon?—”

Fallon.

“What? Did Fallon put you up to this?”

He blinks at the venom in my tone. “Well, no. I mean, when I first started planning the first dinner I’d make for my mate, I asked her for some suggestions. She’s the one who insisted I find some popcorn kernels and learn how to cook ‘em just the way you like. But that was weeks ago. I did everything else myself. The only thing she helped with was getting you down here because I needed to finish up the potatoes.”

“Really?” I ask. “You expect me that this was planned. Like you miraculously knew we’d be rescued today and, after abandoning me again, you just happened to have all these ingredients on hand?”

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