Page 22 of Forced Plus-Size Mate

I walk in ahead of Body, going over to the table. The kitchen is impressive, with a long kitchen island beside the cooktop. The dining table is a little further down, near the glass doors that lead out onto the deck.

“Do you entertain much?” I ask.

“No,” he answers, shaking his head. “A lot of this happened with the remodel. I have held a few pack meetings here, though. Only a few parties.”

“Isn’t Jenks’s house still the ultimate destination?”

“He’s been over in Silverton helping out with Sam’s bar. I have no idea how that’s going to play out, though, if Decker really has his balls in an uproar about this marriage.”

I clench my teeth together, determined not to respond to that comment.

I’m not happy about it, either, but here we are.

I sit down at the table and immediately notice the tiny glass vase with a small bunch of delicate, yellow flowers.

“You remembered,” I whisper, talking more to myself than Body.

His eyes follow my gaze as he picks up two plates. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course I remembered.”

Damn his wolf ears! Muttering under my breath is obviously something I won’t get away with here.

“I just happened to have them growing around a flower bed out front,” Body says, gesturing at the flowers. “Most people think they’re a weed, but I knew how much you loved them, so I kept them.”

I reach out and touch the edge of one flower, tracing the delicate petal with my finger.

“They are so tiny, but so strong and beautiful,” I murmur. “Every year, people try to eradicate them, and they just keep coming back.”

Body puts the plates down, clearing his throat a little. I can almost hear his thought, it is so clear.

Just like you.

I shake my head a little, slamming my mind shut. I’ve always been able to pick up vague impressions from people when my magic is strong. I thought that Body and I had a full connection that went both ways. That he understood me as well as I did him.

But if that was true, he couldn’t have hurt me like that.

Body pushes a plate towards me, and my stomach growls loudly. When I look down at the plate, I’m stunned again.

“Waffles with fresh strawberries and vanilla ice cream,” Body says. “I got it right, didn’t I?”

I nod, staring at the food. I can’t form any words right now, I’m too confused.

He’s acting like I never left. As if we did stay together and lived together every second of our lives since high school!

Fury rises as the pain I’ve carried all that time roars through me, scarring my heart all over again. I want to shove the tray away and tell him I don’t want anything from him.

But I am hungry. Practically starving.

I pick up my fork and cut off the corner of a waffle, spearing a slice of strawberry. When the sweet, crispy treat hits my tongue, I can’t help the little moan of pleasure that escapes me.

“Oh my god, these are perfect,” I gush. “Did you make them?”

“No,” Body says, sounding almost bashful. “I bought them at Lucy’s bakery, and she told me how to prepare them.”

“She always was a whiz in the kitchen,” I answer, taking another bite. “The bakery does well?”

“Really well. Especially since Peter started working there, too.”

My mood darkens again at the mention of Peter. I know that Lucy was roped into a marriage she didn’t want, and it ended up being perfect for her, but their situation is completely different than mine.

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