"You would drive a grown man to drink," he finally growled before turning to stalk through the house. "Come on, I need coffee."
"Do you know how to fix it?" She followed him quickly, the question falling from her lips before she could stop it.
"Hell no. But I'm f**king desperate," he snarled impatiently, his voice rough.
"Then don't touch that coffeepot, because I want some, too." She moved quickly in front of him before coming to a dead stop in the middle of the immaculate kitchen.
"Fine, go for it." He moved past her to the door where the tiles shone damply, the smell of disinfectant heavy in the air.
"What are you doing?" She was almost afraid to touch anything. It was almost sterile-clean.
"Blood." He grunted. "I don't want it staining the tiles." He knelt on the floor, a heavy towel in his hands as he mopped at the puddle of cleaner he had poured on the floor. Her brothers, bless their hearts, would have waited for her to try to clean it. She doubted they cleaned anything besides their weapons, at any time. The slobs.
"Do you ever cook in this kitchen?" she questioned him nervously as she moved to the cabinet and the coffeemaker sitting there.
"I'd need to know how to first," he grunted, working at the floor with single-minded intensity. "I'll figure it out eventually." She searched the cabinets until she found the bag of preground coffee and two mugs. The term bare cupboards definitely applied to this man.
"What do you eat?" The silence was stifling as he rose to his feet to watch her measure the coffee into a filter with narrowed eyes.
"I eat," he finally growled as he moved through the kitchen into a short hall.
Seconds later she heard water running in the sink and then a heavier flow, as though into a washer.
He moved back into the kitchen a minute later as she was checking the refrigerator.
Cheese. Baloney. Ham. Yuck.
"Not all of us are gourmets," he grunted, moving to the cabinet over the stove and pulling down the bread she had given him that afternoon.
There was no sign of the cinnamon rolls. Half a loaf of white bread was left and perhaps a third of the banana nut bread. She checked the freezer and then sighed. He had to be starving. A body that big took energy.
"What happened tonight?" she asked as she moved back to the coffeemaker and poured two mugs of the dark brew.
"Someone tried to break in to your house, and I caught him." He shrugged, his voice cool as he took his mug from her.
"Yeah." She believed that one. "Fine. I'll just go home then and call my daddy and my three ex-Special Forces brothers and let them know what happened. Shouldn't hurt, if that was all it was."
He paused, his gaze slicing back to her for a long moment before he lowered the mug.
She didn't think anything could take his mind off that coffee.
"Ex-SF, huh?" He breathed out roughly, shaking his head with weary acceptance.
"Yes, they are." She nodded mockingly. "They retired about five years ago. They were even part of the Breed rescues that took place just after the main Pride announced their existence." His expression stilled and grew cold and distant.
"I know you're a Breed, Tarek." She wasn't playing games with him. She hated it when they were played with her. "Tell me what's going on."
He grimaced tightly before picking up his mug and moving to the kitchen table as though putting distance between them. She followed him.
He turned his head, watching as she leaned against the counter across from him and waited. Other than appliances, the kitchen was bare. No disorder. No clutter or decoration. The living room had been the same as she remembered. As though he had yet to decide who he was enough to mark his home with those things that defined him. Unless…
"Did you buy the house?" she asked him then. Surprise crossed his features. "It's mine." He nodded before sipping at his coffee. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Nothing, except the thought of him leaving bothered her. Fine, he had no interest in her outside of her bread and her coffee, but she liked him. At least he wasn't boring.
"Nothing." She finally shrugged. Thankfully, she was wearing her thick flannel robe rather than one of her thinner ones, the ones that would have shown her hard ni**les clearly and made it impossible to hide her response from him. Thar was what pissed her off so bad about him. He was the one man in years who had actually interested her, and he seemed totally oblivious to her as a woman.
It sucked.