Page 18 of Wolf Lost

A very long time.

It didn’t make him feel any better that the guys hadn’t gone back to sleep either. Well, unless Gavin had managed to drift off while reading and left his light on. The dark circles under his eyes when Dez joined the three of them in the kitchen said he hadn’t.

Ash, who had spent the whole night playing video games, looked as bright as the damn sun, and Dez wanted to stick out his cane and trip him, just a little. They were brothers, but that didn’t mean Ash had to go around smiling all the time.

Sawyer was standing over the stove, watching Ash make oatmeal. Ash had been making noises about taking some cooking classes, because “one of them needed to know how to make something other than phone calls for takeout,” but Dez thought his oatmeal was fine. It was oatmeal. It would have been unnatural if it were appetizing.

Gavin was setting out bowls next to the stove when Dez came out. He looked up, as haggard as Dez felt, and lifted his chin in acknowledgement. “Sugar?”

“Whatever,” Dez answered with a halfhearted shrug. He was indifferent to sugar in most forms, and oatmeal was fuel. No amount of fakery was going to pass it off as tasty.

Instead of pressing, Gavin set a small container next to the bowls. Sawyer was like a magpie with something shiny; he turned and picked up the container, opening it and looking in fascination at the woo-woo “healthy” brownish sugar Ash had bought.

Even right after they’d gotten him out of the hospital, a new werewolf and thrilled to be alive, Dez hadn’t been as enthusiastic about things as Sawyer. Certainly not some kind of organic syrup cane sugar or whatever it was. Dez wasn’t sure he’d ever been that excited about anything.

Ash poured oatmeal into four bowls. He tried to be as even as possible, not giving anyone too much more than anyone else. Dez could have told him no one cared, but it was how Ash was. The behavior had probably headed off fights among his pack growing up.

A few moments later, they were seating themselves around one end of the huge dining-room table.

“So about the shop from yesterday,” Gavin said as he plopped into a seat across from Dez. “Do we have a consensus?”

“I’m for it,” Ash answered, dumping a pile of sugar onto his oatmeal and then passing the container to Sawyer. “It’s a nice shop. And it has a bookstore right next door!”

“It’s a nice place,” Sawyer added, while adding his own mound of sugar to his breakfast. “Not that you guys need my opinion or anything, but I liked it.”

Dez rolled his eyes at Sawyer and grabbed the sugar from him. He’d already put more on his oatmeal than Ash, for fuck’s sake. “You only saw the front room.”

“That’s the part customers will see. I don’t know anything about cooking, so it’s not like the kitchen matters to me.” Sawyer swirled his spoon around, watching the sugar melt into the oatmeal.

Ash nodded vigorously, and though his mouth was full, he mumbled, “He’s right. The front is the important part.”

They weren’t wrong, exactly, but Dez thought they were oversimplifying things. He turned to Gavin for backup, and found the man watching him, head cocked in confusion. He followed Gavin’s eyeline and realized, with a start, that he’d covered his breakfast with sugar.

“You feeling okay?” Gavin asked.

Ash choked down laughter, staring at his own bowl.

“I’m fine.” Dez set the sugar container, perhaps harder than entirely necessary, in the middle of the table with a clack. “Just got distracted.” He didn’t bother looking at his breakfast, only gave it a cursory stir and shoved a spoonful of it in his mouth as Gavin watched, confusion written across every line of his face.

Dez expected it to be disgusting, like a spoonful of plain sugar. Instead, it reminded him of how his blankets had smelled the night before. Sweet and earthy and... he was not going to get aroused by a bowl of oatmeal.

Sawyer was a victim of violent crime who had come to them for help. Sexualizing him was not helpful.

He looked up at Gavin and pretended nothing out of the ordinary was going on. “The shop? I say yes too. Let’s make the offer and see if they go for it.” He would leave making the offer to Gavin, who was good at that kind of business stuff. Dez’s specialty had always been labor, not dealing with people or crunching numbers. Give him carpentry over realty every single time.

“Meanwhile, we should buy Sawyer some clothes. And his own bedding,” Ash interrupted, sunny optimistic smile still in full force.

Sawyer’s head snapped over to look at Ash so fast Dez was worried he might have hurt himself. “What? Why?”

“Um, because both the shirt and blanket you had are ruined? And besides, everyone deserves to pick their own sheets. They’re a personal thing. Right?” He looked to Gavin and Dez for agreement, and while it was a little halfhearted, he got it.

Dez didn’t care about sheets, but he’d heard stranger things. He didn’t like worn-out clothes, having grown up in all secondhand stuff, so he wasn’t going to judge someone else’s issues.

Gavin was already miles away in his own mind, imagining offers and counter offers for the building, and whatever else the buying of a business space required. They would have to incorporate or something, he supposed. He shuddered to imagine it, but Gavin would be in his element.

When he finished his food, he pushed himself away from the table and started to get up, but Sawyer leaned in and grabbed his empty bowl.

Sawyer stacked all of their bowls up, and when everyone looked at him askance, he shrugged. “I’m not anybody’s maid or anything, but you guys are taking care of me. Clearing the table is kind of the least I can contribute, isn’t it?”

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