Page 20 of Daddy's Mail Order Mate

“Goddamn it.”

Chapter 5 - Gwen

There’s a knock at the door—mydoor, at least for the next two weeks.

“Come in.”

I don’t look, merely working my way through my luggage case to get some of my toiletries out. I’m not planning on fully unpacking. After all, I needed to be ready to go at a moment’s notice if it came down to it.

But even without looking, my neck prickles at the sound of him stepping into the room. That haunting ache pulses in my chest; I’m probably going to have to put up with that this whole time. Seluna truly was an A-grade bitch for making mate bonds work like this. Isn’t getting rejected enough. Why do I need salt to be ground into the wound?

The thought makes me open one of the little travel bags a bit too aggressively that I think I almost break the zipper.

“Hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Gonna make dinner soon.”

I hum faintly in distant comprehension. My appetite will win over my anxiety at some point, but my stomach felt too knotted up to even think about putting anything in it.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Fine with pork loin roast, gravy, broccoli, and roasted potatoes?”

Thorn had always been quiet. And now when he breaks that silence, his voice seems to always rumble in like thunder on the horizon. In spite of myself, I feel my knees go a littleweak. After everything that happened and how long it’s been, it’s cruel and miraculous that I still feel ambushed by these sorts of feelings.

I never thought I’d even have the ghost of this sort of sensation ever again. And just from him tersely rattling off tonight’s menu.

“... That’s fine,” I manage to reply in a stoic tone.

He grunts.

I keep unpacking.

… He doesn’t leave.

The room he’s put me in is cozy enough, but with him looming in the doorway like that, I can’t help but feel like it’s suddenly quite cramped.

If he’s going to loiter, I might as well say something.

“Didn’t figure you were the type to cook.”

“Have to be. And I don’t mind doing it. Nutrition is important for performance.”

“And you do plenty of that from the look of things,” I deadpan thoughtlessly.

I straighten up a bit and give the pale blue wall across from me a confused stare. That was definitely not the sort of thing I thought I’d be saying if I somehow got to see him again. What has gotten into me?

He huffs, and I can’t help but glance at him out of the corner of my eyes just in time to see him cross his perfectly sculpted arms across his chest.

“Occupational requirement.”

“You work for the council now, right?”

Thorn grunts in assent.

A muscle-bound agent of the council means he is doing much more than pushing paperwork and showing up for meetings. The office-ready outfit definitely seems like a smokescreen for what he must be capable of. But I suppose council agents are more like the wolf FBI or Interpol, if I had to make some sort of human parallel.

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