Page 19 of Where There's Smoke
“That sucks.”
“What is your family like?”
Samson smiled. “They’re amazing. I was raised by parents who had me in their later years, so now they're enjoying their retirement in Florida. They had eight sons, believe it or not. Most of them live closer to our folks, and I don't see them as much anymore, sadly.”
I stared at him in shock. “Your poor mother. Your house must have been so loud. Eight boys? God, think of the grocery bills.”
Samson laughed, a loud, rumbly, belly laugh that had my pulse fluttering. “It certainly was. My mother thrives off that, though. If anything, I was the one who struggled with how busy our house was. My brothers always wanted to be outside, playing sports or whatever mischief they could get up to, whereas I just wanted to stay in my room, reading or playing a video game.”
“There's nothing wrong with that,” I said, shaking the bottle and walking back over to him. “Did your dad also love the chaos?”
“Actually, I take after him. While my brothers and mother were planning adventures in the backyard or building treehouses, my dad and I were the ones who much preferred reading and board games. By the time I was six, I could kick my brothers’ asses at Scrabble, and it was one of the most satisfying things ever. I was a scrawny kid back then, so my brain was all I had.”
I glanced over his form now. He was definitelynotscrawny anymore. He had large, defined muscles, even for an alpha. Something I was sure he had to work hard to maintain, and damn, that work was paying off. In spades.
“Scrawny? You?” I asked in disbelief.
“I discovered a love of the gym,” he said. “Also, audiobooks while doing cardio? Makes doing it so much easier.”
I grimaced. “As much as I love a good book, nothing will make me enjoy cardio.”
“You could go for a run with me,” he said, his smile so inviting, I was tempted to say yes, even though I had no athletic skill to speak of.
“Uhhh… as tempting as that offer is, I can’t run to save my life. I could always put on a pair of skates and hold on to you as you run.”
He laughed. “Well, that sounds like a recipe for disaster and like something Fitz would do, but I’m down to try it.”
“It’s a date,” I said, before thinking my words through. Realizing what I’d said, I blushed, focusing on the bottle in my hand.
“Can I try feeding her?” he asked, looking between the puppy in his hands and the bottle.
Without a word, I handed over the bottle. “Just be careful. She can get a bit nippy if she's excited for food.”
He looked down adoringly at the puppy. “That's okay, I don't mind a little bit of biting,” he said before looking up at me with a smirk.
His words made my core clench, and I quickly distracted myself with turning back to the counter and cleaning up from where I had made the bottle.
“Good girl,” he cooed as the puppy latched on to the bottle with ease.
His use of the phrase “good girl” had my head spinning. I had read one too many pack romance books, and that phrase instantly turned my insides to goo. That was not what Samson was going for, though. He was an alpha, after all, and I was just me.
“What audiobook or book would you recommend?” I asked, trying to hide my strangled tone of voice. “I could use something to pass the time.”
“I’ve got a whole bookshelf in my room. You’re welcome to raid it. I’ve read most of them several times, so I won’t miss any of them. You can go in whenever you want, even if I’m on a call. Be warned, Fitz is a heathen and leaves his boxers everywhere.”
I shuddered playfully. “Well, I will do my best to avoid the boxers.”
“Maybe it’s a blessing you don’t have your sense of smell at the moment.” He nodded seriously, making me laugh. “If you go in to find a book, you’ll have to deal with ‘The Funk.’”
Laughing, I turned around and giggled even more when I saw Samson’s exaggerated expression. God, he was adorable.
“Well, thatisa silver lining,” I agreed.
“You know we don’t bite, you can come out more. You’ve spent the last two days locked up in your room as much as possible. Have you been eating?” he asked, brow furrowing.
“Sunny gave me tons of protein bars and granola bars, so I’ve been nibbling on those,” I admitted sheepishly.
Samson shook his head. “You can’t live on that. Use the kitchen whenever you want, eat whatever you want. There’s plenty of food.”
