as far as we’re concerned,” I assure him. “Nobody’s gonna care, and you’ll settle in.”
“Yeah...”
In one word, he’s interjected all the despair he’s rapidly approaching on that front.
I move for a kitchen stool and plop myself down with my tea and my ribeye. “Can I pry?”
Not expecting me to move, he flinches when I go for the stool and takes a huge step back before he realizes I’ve only sat down, not hauled out a barbed-wire wrapped baseball bat or whatever equally frightening thing he must have been expecting. Eyes only making it as far as my mug of tea, he’s all wariness as he asks, “About Finn?”
“Finn?” I blink. “No. I mean, we can talk about him if you’d rather. But I’d like to know a bit about you.”
This does not relax him. In fact, this prospect seems like it’s akin to skinning him alive with a paring knife. The dull one that’s still swimming around in the drawer even though nobody ever uses it. “Finn says you’re the alpha here. Ask me whatever you want and I’ll answer you.”
His response troubles me.
I decide my stomach feels fine—it wasn’t a bad burn, really. I set the ribeye on the counter and push to my feet, being mindful not to glance in Deek’s direction as I take down my cast iron pan and get it heating on the stove.
“You don’t have to cook for me,” Deek starts, being so polite.
“Eh, I’m up and you’re still a guest until Monday, so let me make you supper. You like garlic?”
“Garlic?” Deek asks—and he sounds so thrown that his voice isn’t hesitant at all.
I almost turn to look at him, to make eye contact, but I catch myself just in time. I keep my gaze firmly on my hands as I grab garlic and retrieve butter from the fridge. “Yep. Ever had pan-seared butter steak?”
“No.”
“It will make you see heaven. Want to try it?”
I feel like I’ve won something when I catch the sound of a smile in Deek’s reply. “Okay. Thanks… Susan.”
It seems like the quiet is becoming more soothing than tense as I prep the ingredients. Absently, I murmur, “Want broccoli or potatoes?”
“Can… May I have both?”
“Sure thing.” I grab a lemon to change the recipe to lemon garlic butter. It’ll go great with the potatoes, but it will change his world when it’s coating the broccoli.
The sound of the meat frying is food-music to my ears, and the smell makes my stomach perk up. But I never eat this late. And a meal this heavy? If I wolf down—
...Ha.
If I wolf down any, I’ll regret it.
But it really does smell divine. It isn’t long before Deek asks raggedly, “Why does that smell so good?”
Privately, I smile. “That nutty flavor?”
“Yes,” he agrees with feeling.
“It’s browned butter. When it heats, it turns to magic. Plus the lemon and garlic and you’ve got—”
“I’m going to eat the whole pan. Iron included,” he declares.
I laugh at that, and flip his steak. I keep flipping it, doing it often enough that a crust forms, which will keep the meat nice and moist inside. “How done do you want it to be?” I ask.
“Anything,” he says. Then he amends, “I prefer well-done, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“Not at all. Although… can I make a comment without coming off as insensitive or rude?”
“I don’t think you’re rude,” he says with a surprising amount of conviction. “Or insensitive.”
“In popular media, werewolves… eat food raw,” I start carefully. “Is it normal to eat meat well-done then, or…?” Hurriedly, I add, “And you can tell me to mind my own business.”
I’m very careful to keep my eyes on the food and not on him, and my mindfulness is rewarded with Deek sounding so relaxed you’d think he was a normal person, not a man who was so stressed he was turning into a wolf a few short hours ago.
“We mostly like to cook our meat when we’re in human form. When we’re wolves though…”
“Different rules?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks for satisfying my curiosity,” I tell him brightly. I add the broccoli, turning all the heads until they’re buttered and crisping.
“You’re welcome.”
I get a plate down from the cupboard and fish a steak knife and fork out of the silverware drawer. “Do you have any questions so far?”
“I don’t know yet.”
I tip my head, keeping my attention down. “Fair enough. And this is done.” I serve it all up on the plate and move the pan to a cool burner.