Page 31 of Breeding Clinic

Gabriel pours himself a glass of water instead. “I did. It was very dirty. I loved it.”

“What? No. Notthatbook. The pregnancy ones. Didn’t you do an OB rotation in school?”

He leans against the counter, drinking his water. He shudders. “I try not to remember that rotation.” Gabriel grabs me bymy shirt, wrinkling it as he tugs me against him. He kisses me, then stares into my eyes. “She’ll love you. Like I do. Just be yourself.”

That’s what I’m worried about. I’m not flirty like Liam and Gabriel are. I have to spend a lot of time with someone and like them before I grow those sort of feelings or interest. That’s never bothered me until now. Because we’re in a time crunch.

What if platonic isn’t good enough? Omegas and alphas usually have high sex drives. That’s why more often than not, they end up in packs. Gabriel is happy to help out, but me? I don’t know. I don’t knowher. I’ve never even seen her.

There’s a knock on the door, and Gabriel goes to answer it while I panic and hide in the kitchen.

“Come in. Dinner’s almost ready,” Gabriel says, playing host. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Water is fine,” she says.

Gabriel comes into the kitchen to get her a glass of ice water, and Kat follows him, looking around. She spots me and gives me an awkward smile.

I knew it.I told them this was weird. I said we should have gone to a restaurant. Somewhere neutral.

“Hi,” she says, pulling her long hair to one side. “I’m Kat. You must be Matthew.”

“I am. It’s nice to meet you.” I try to shake her hand, but realize that I left my oven mitt on. Embarrassed, I pull it off and try again. “Oh, sorry. I was cooking.”

“Well, it smells great, so thank you.” She shakes my hand once and lets it drop.

“Thank you. I was happy for the excuse to try a new recipe.”

Her smile becomes more genuine and some of my worry eases. They were right. She’s nice.

“It still needs about twenty minutes before it’s ready,” I tell her.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks.

I don’t particularly want her in my kitchen. It’s small. But I can’t say no. “Want to help me cook the broccolini? I blanched them, but they still have to cook in the cast iron pan.”

She steps up beside me and watches my movements. I put our heavy cast iron skillet onto a burner, then turn it up on high and heat up some grapeseed oil. Once it’s hot, I add the broccolini and give her a spatula. “Spread them out so they’re not clumped together. Let them get a good sear until they blacken. I’ll grab the salt and pepper for you.”

Kat uses the spatula to move the broccolini around while I set the salt and pepper grinder out for her to season them. “Liam said you were a good cook.”

He did? I wonder what else he’s told her about us. “I like it so long as someone else does the dishes.”

“Do you do most of the cooking?” she asks.

“Don’t let him lie to you,” Gabriel says, coming back to the kitchen. “I cook too. You have to try mypão de queijo.”

“What’s that?” she asks.

Gabriel joins us in the kitchen and leans against the sink, out of the way. “A chewy Brazilian bread made from tapioca flour and cheese.”

“That sounds really good,” she agrees.

“I told you she would like Brazilian food.” Gabriel looks her up and down, then winks. “I had a feeling she had good taste.”

A light blush stains her cheeks and she focuses on turning the broccolini over to sear the other side. “I can’t stomach anything but carbs right now,” she says. “Eating every couple of hours helps. Big meals make me sick. But I can’t complain toomuch. The nausea is a good sign, and it’ll get better in the second trimester.”

“Do you like wine?” Gabriel asks. He ignores my subtle expression telling him tostop.

“Normally, yeah,” she answers. “Every once in a while.”

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