Page 68 of Talk About… History

“I could get used to this,” he admitted. It felt so intimate that I couldn’t help but glance at the others, expecting annoyance or jealousy. Instead I found three sets of eyes locked on us, lust darkening their gazes, and making them shift in their seats.

“Fuck, I’ve never tried to eat while hard, this is weird,” Ford complained playfully, giving me a wink to show he didn’t mind. My eyes caught on the movement as he shoved a hand against his rising cock, my tongue darting out to wet my lip as my mouth went dry.

Fuck, I felt like I was in pre-heat, though I wasn’t sure I’d truly recognize the signs. The doctor at the clinic warned it could be harsh this time around thanks to the way my heats had been handled in the past.

I was wholly unprepared for that to happen. This relationship was still new and strange, I wasn’t ready to give them every vulnerable side of myself.

Was I?

Cohen had disappeared just after breakfast and I was too curious about the workshop to not go check it out.

Lola and Molly followed me to the door, whining as I left them behind. I wasn’t sure the rules on pups in the workshop, but I doubted he let them in.

The small barn looked normal from the outside, but when I pushed open the door my jaw dropped.

Cohen had replaced some of the old windows with stained glass so the colorful lights were shining over the long work table that ran down the middle of the room. The outer walls were lined with shelves stocked full of supplies, ingredients, and about a thousand jars of varying sizes.

My mate was hunched over a work bench, adding drops of something to a large stainless steel mixing bowl.

“What are you doing?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet so it didn’t startle him.

He didn’t jump, but his face did flare red.

“Uhh,” he stumbled over his words, putting the bottles aside and looking at me. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Why would I laugh?” I asked, peeking around him again but it just looked like clear, yellow-tinted liquid.

“I’ve been wanting to test out my ability at making better candles, so I thought I’d make one for our pack, a mix of our scents,” he admitted.

“Really?” I asked, stepping even closer now. “Like all of ours combined?”

“Yes. I never really noticed other scents except hints here and there, but with our pack, now that we’re all connected and spending time with each other, I can pick up on theirs too,” he explained. “What do you think? I think it’s missing something.”

He stepped aside so I could take his place. I lowered my face close to the bowl, feeling the warmth of the melted wax as I breathed it in.

There were notes I recognized, cranberry, fallen leaves, a hint of apple, an undercurrent of rich coffee, marjoram, and a little musk. I knew right away what he’d forgotten. Himself.

“You need yours,” I said. “You smell like sweet citrus, maybe a little lemon added in? There’s also an herby scent that I feel like can shift depending on your mood or what you’ve been working on in the shop, but rosemary is at the top.”

His smile turned blinding as he rushed off to one of the shelves lined in scent bottles. He came back, stopping long enough to brush a kiss over my lips, before adding a few drops. The sweet lemon hit me right away and I frowned.

“Maybe a drop of orange as well?”

He nodded, not doubting me for a second, before grabbing that one as well. He added a few small drops, less than the lemon, before giving it a mix. He leaned in and breathed it in, before gesturing for me to do the same.

“It’s us,” I said, shocked that he could have captured us all so perfectly. I never considered scents mixing so well, but ours were all some sort of cozy that blended well.

“Thanks to you,” he praised, like I could take any credit. “We work well together, you might just be my new guinea pig.”

I laughed. “I’m here to help anytime. For now, I’m going to need you to make this scent blend in a room spray, maybe a lotion, a whole line just for us.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised. “You like it that much?”

“Love it,” I said. “It’s our pack. My scent-matches and proof that we belong together.”

“Then I’ll make it all,” he promised. “Anything for you.”

As he got back to work, I sat down on a stool nearby, keeping him company as he explained everything he did. They always said I was passionate about my work, but seeing Cohen I knew he felt the same about his.

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