Page 6 of Feral Heart
“I’m…I’m sorry, I just…everyone was watching and I—” His gaze snapped up, eyes wide, pupils dilated.
“Breathe with me,” Cesar instructed, squeezing his hands gently. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
Jamie followed his lead, chest rising and falling in sync with Cesar’s.
“I wasn’t even thinking. I just really like that song and—”
“Everyone’s just jealous because you can actually dance,” Cesar said, keeping his voice light. “These pendejos have two left feet and the rhythm of a broken washing machine.”
A small smile flickered across Jamie’s face.
“There you are,” Cesar murmured. “You with me now?”
“Sorry,” he whispered. “Sometimes I just... when people stare...” He trailed off with an embarrassed shrug.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Cesar assured him. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere quieter.” Keeping one of Jamie’s hands firmly in his, Cesar led him past curious onlookers toward the kitchen. The noise level dropped immediately, the heavy bass now a distant thrum rather than an all-encompassing pulse.
“You’ll be okay in here.” Cesar gestured around the gleaming stainless steel workspace. “No one bothers me in here. Well, except Miguel, but he’s a special kind of pain in the ass.”
Jamie’s laugh was soft but genuine. “It’s so clean. Like scary clean.” He ran a finger along the edge of the prep table. “Our break room at the store has mysterious stains that have probably been there since the eighties.”
“I run a tight ship,” Cesar agreed. “Food safety is no joke.” He guided Jamie to a stool at the prep counter, enjoying how the human’s gaze darted curiously around the kitchen. There was something endearing about his unfiltered reactions.
He tied the apron strings behind his back. “You hungry? I can make you something special.”
“Oh!” Jamie perked up, then his expression fell slightly. “Oh, um, I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but I don’t do so well with dairy or gluten. My stomach gets all weird, and then I spend way too much time in the bathroom, which is not exactly a great first impression and—” He cut himself off, cheeks pink. “Sorry, I talk too much when I’m nervous.”
“Nervous?” Cesar raised an eyebrow, setting the pan on the burner. “Around me?”
“Yes.” His blush deepened. “You’re a dreamboat, jellybean.” He pointed at himself with both thumbs. “Plus, you know, the whole brother-incident thing, and I’ve been crushing on you for months, and oh god I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”
Cesar’s wolf perked up at the admission, preening with satisfaction. “Months, huh?” he asked, not bothering to hide his pleased smile. “So it wasn’t just me noticing you every Sunday?”
“You noticed me?” Jamie’s voice climbed half an octave.
“Hard not to,” Cesar admitted, turning to the spice rack. He selected a few bottles, focusing on the task to keep his wolf from getting too excited. “You’re the only cashier who actually smiles like he means it.”
Jamie made a small, pleased sound that sent heat curling through Cesar’s gut. His wolf pushed forward, eyes threatening to shift as desire sparked through him. He blinked it back, keeping his gaze on the ingredients. “So no dairy, no gluten,” Cesar said, redirecting the conversation.
“You don’t think it’s annoying?” Jamie ducked his head but not before Cesar caught his lip bite. “Most people act like I’m being difficult when I mention it.”
“Most people are idiots.” He pulled out ingredients with practiced efficiency. “How about some garlic shrimp with roasted vegetables? No dairy, no gluten, all flavor.”
“That sounds amazing,” Jamie said, bouncing slightly on his stool. “I’ve never had a chef cook just for me before.”
“First time for everything, colibrí.” Cesar winked, enjoying the blush that spread across Jamie’s cheeks. “Now, tell me how spicy you like your food while I prep this.”
“Medium? Maybe medium-hot?” Jamie answered, watching intently as Cesar’s knife made quick work of a red onion. “Wow, you’re really good with that knife.”
“Years of practice.” Cesar moved with practiced efficiency, his hands steady and sure. “So, other than working at the grocery store and having an asshole for a brother, what else should I know about you?”
Jamie’s face animated as he launched into a rapid-fire response, words tumbling over each other in his excitement. “I love horror movies, but I always watch them through my fingers because I get scared, but I still want to know what happens, and I collect weird socks—I’m wearing dinosaur ones right now, see?—and I can recite all fifty states in alphabetical order in under thirty seconds, which isn’t actually useful for anything but it’s fun at parties, not that I go to many parties...”
Cesar smiled as he worked. The nervous energy was endearing, and he found himself wanting to know more about this strange, vibrant human who’d caught his attention with nothing more than a smile across a checkout counter.
“Can I help?” Jamie asked, leaning against the counter, fingers fidgeting with a dishtowel he’d picked up.
“You can chop the bell peppers.”
