Blackstone Ranger Charmer - Alicia Montgomery Page 0,30
life couldn’t be a coincidence. Despite the fact that they’d broken up, Gen would always casually mention her and the Woolworth pride or even William, their Alpha and Vicky’s father, every chance she could get.
Gen was going to shit a brick when he told her there was no way he was going to marry Vicky or any lioness of her choosing, not when he had already met his mate. Maybe that’s why he was desperate to have this mate bond form—then Temperance would be irrevocably his, and he would belong to her.
“Gabriel?”
He whirled around at the sound of her voice. “Did you find everything okay?”
“Yeah.” She padded into the living room in his dress shirt that came down past her knees, rubbing her hair with a towel. Another possessive surge rose in him, and his lion meowed with pleasure seeing her in something they owned. She came closer, but then stopped and quickly turned away when her gaze dropped down to his bare chest.
“Uh …” Slipping on his shirt, he cocked his head toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Did you get a chance to have lunch yet?”
“Uh …” A growling sound came from her stomach. “Er, sorry. I kind of … didn’t have time to eat lunch.”
She didn’t need to explain why she hadn’t eaten yet as he could have guessed it was because of his ransom note and threat. Guilt poured through him, and his inner lion swiped its claws at him for letting her starve. “I’ll take care of that,” he said leading her to the kitchen. “Are you famished? I have some chips or fruit you can munch on.”
“I’m fine, I can wait,” she said as he motioned for her to sit on one of the stools on the center island. “Are you going to order some food?”
He opened the fridge and took out some cheese and apples, as well as a carton of eggs. “No, I can whip you something.”
Her eyes went wide with surprise. “You cook??”
“Hey, I’m not that much of a bachelor,” he said jokingly. “I can cook.”
“Oh, no,” she shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just that … no one’s ever cooked for me before.”
“Really? But you’re a baker.” He pushed the fruit and cheese at her. “Not even when you were a kid? Like your mom or dad.”
A sad look flittered across her face. “Um, not exactly. Unless you count sandwiches and pouring cereal into a bowl.” She took the apple and bit into it.
He could tell she didn’t want to talk further about it, so he let it be. For now. “I’m not a Michelin-star chef or anything, but I’ve been told I make a mean scrambled eggs. Sit tight.”
Gathering the ingredients, he cracked some eggs into a bowl and added some milk and a pinch of salt, then whisked them all together. “Do you want some tea or coffee?” he asked as he turned the stove on to a low heat and added a pat of butter into a pan.
“That would be nice.” She put the apple down. “Where’s your coffee maker.”
“No, no.” He waved his hand. “Relax. I’ll get it.”
He managed to get the coffee started just as the pan was hot enough for the eggs. “I realize I still owe you,” he said.
A dark brow rose quizzically. “Owe me?”
“French food and a story,” he reminded her. “I said I would tell you why I hate frogs.” He poured the eggs into the pan and swirled the yellow creamy curds with a spatula.
She chuckled. “All right, tell me then.”
“Well,” he began, keeping his eyes on the eggs to make sure he didn’t overcook them. “While changing between our animal and human sides is an instinct for shifters, we still need to practice, and so most parents teach their kids how to do it. I was about four or five when I had my first shift. My dad took me out behind our property so I could practice in peace. Unfortunately, my sisters snuck up on us. One of them—I can’t remember, but it was probably Gwen—put some frogs in my clothes so that when I put them on, they stuck to me, and I couldn’t get them off.” As he usually did, he shivered visibly when he thought about that. “I don’t remember much of what happened after, only that I was screaming, and my dad came to help me.”
“You poor thing,” Temperance said. “No wonder you don’t like them.”
“I know it’s irrational, but I really do