she soared at the heights of ecstasy.
He could be the male for her. He could be…her mate. She and Ana would want for nothing if they were his. He would protect them and provide for them, he would show them the support, compassion, and respect they deserved. Were Gabriela his mate and Ana his kit, he would give his all to ensure they had reason to smile every day.
By the time he marked his place with a finger and lowered the book, it was dark outside. The display on his phone said it was six fifteen. His stomach decided then that it wasn’t satisfied with the half-carton of ice cream he’d eaten a few hours earlier; it demanded sustenance.
Pushing the footrest down, he stood up and strode to the dining room table, shifting around unused placemats and finally lifting the cardboard box to find the Payette Lake bookmark he’d purchased from a local giftshop. He slipped it between the pages, closed the book, and set it down before continuing into the kitchen.
Broxen opened the refrigerator and freezer. Cold air flowed over him as he stared at the fridge’s contents. He had frozen meat on hand; beef was a particular favorite, though he was also fond of many of the species of fish he’d tasted. It wouldn’t take much to cook a steak or a salmon filet. He could even fry some pork chops. He’d bookmarked a few new recipes on his phone that he’d been meaning to try.
Steaming a bag of frozen vegetables would be easy, too, and would pair well no matter what meat he chose, but…
With a sigh, he reached into the freezer and grabbed one of the frozen microwaveable meals. Meatloaf and potatoes or something like that—for brawny men with big appetites!
Closing the fridge and freezer, he stepped to the microwave, opening the package as he walked. He poked holes in the plastic covering with a claw and put the tray in the microwave, punching in the recommended time.
He braced a hand on the counter as the microwave hummed. His eyes itched, desperate to shift toward the front window again even though the reflection of the interior lights on the glass would make it impossible to see Gabriela’s house. That he knew it was there was enough, right? That he knew she was there.
Instead of looking toward the window, he dropped his gaze to his hand and drummed his fingers on the countertop, counting the microwave timer in his head. His claws clicked against the surface. He stilled his fingers when he reached zero and awaited the beep.
Brow furrowed, he glanced at the microwave. It still had six seconds.
Even after two and a half years, Broxen hadn’t quite synched with the human tracking of time.
He pressed the end button at the microwave’s first beep, popped the door open, and removed his tray of food. The plastic was fogged with steam and condensation. He peeled it back, stirred the mushy potatoes—mashed potatoes—and placed the in the microwave to finish heating. As soon as it was done, he tossed the plastic film in the trash and carried his meal to the couch.
Broxen sat down and turned on the television, switching it to a random channel. While he’d never been disappointed by selecting a random book, the TV had proven far less reliable. It felt like half of it was advertising and the rest was often watered-down. For all their vices, humans seemed to recoil from their own true nature, finding it distasteful to depict on the screen.
Still, he left this movie—something about stealing cars, apparently—on as he ate the microwaveable meal. Within a minute, he’d burned his tongue on the potatoes despite gently blowing on them and stirring them thoroughly to release the excess heat.
Were Gabriela and Ana eating their own dinner now? Was Gabriela truly feeling better, or was it just the joy of being around her daughter that had uplifted her?
Should he drive into town and pick up some hot chocolate to bring to the two humans? He wasn’t sure if such a gesture would be considered kind or creepy; it was surprisingly difficult to tell the difference between the two a lot of the time.
What would it be like to have Gabriela and Ana here with him now? To have cooked dinner for them, to be sharing it with them? What would it be like to watch TV with them? Perhaps even this outlandish movie, which seemed to have little regard for the laws of physics,