AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dem walks behind me, but I feel his presence like he’s trailing a feather up my spine. He’s one of those men that can only be described as beautiful, a pretty boy, with long lashes and such a smile…
I turn forward after he gives me a grin that makes my lady parts holler. I’ve never been so utterly aware of five men before. But they surround me and fill me with so much damn heat that I’m surprised the snow isn’t turning into puddles under my feet.
I swallow hard, thinking of how much I owe them. I’ve said thank you at least a dozen times over the past few weeks, but even that doesn’t feel like enough. Without these men, my home wouldn’t exist anymore. And so, despite the fact that I probably sound like a broken record, I say it again. “Thank you for saving my home.” My voice comes out breathy because I’m so full of emotions.
“Our home,” Bryn corrects with a giant yawn. I glance over at him as he stretches his muscular arms skywards, and my heart gives a girlish sigh of contentment.
Our home.
Do they really feel that way? Are they…staying? Is this going to be more than just victory sex? I know I’m picturing lazy mornings and matching plaid pajama pants, but are they? And what is going to happen at my cabin, which is rapidly approaching? Are we going to…I don’t even know. I’ve only ever been with one guy at a time before. I mean, I’ve read about other things, but…
“Wanna bake cookies?” Bryn turns to me with a grin and stifles a yawn behind his hand. “I’m really hungry.”
That statement makes my anticipation morph from nervous mathematical impossibilities—five dicks plus one of me equals intimidating—to wondering how many cups of sugar I have left in my kitchen and if it will be enough to make them each a batch of their favorite cookies, which is absolutely the least I can do in order to thank them for everything they’ve done.
A thought occurs to me, and I jerk to a stop, forcing Gus, who still has my hand, to stop too. All of the guys turn to me in alarm.
“What’s wrong?” Gus scans the horizon for threats.
“Do you guys actuallylikemy cookIes?” I ask. And this is a nerve-racking ask for me, because there was a bear shifter once who told me my cookies were shit after we’d been together for two months. Dad made sure he got coal in his stocking for the next three years after the sob-fest that occurred. Liking my cookies is kind of a deal breaker for me. My cookies are my self-expression. They’re kind of my art. They’re my love language.
The silence doesn’t even stretch on, but the tiny bit of time they take to look shocked makes my gut start to churn.
Oh no. I can’t have mates who don’t like my—
“Hell yes!” Bryn exclaims.
“Your cookies are the bomb!” Dem snorts as if it’s completely obvious.
Still, I turn and eye the others. “You really like them? Even the sugar cookies?””
“Especially the sugar cookies,” Cal says as he shoves his glasses up his nose.
“That’s a fookin’ lie. His favorite is chocolate chip, but he canna help it, so dinnae be too mad,” Nico reassures me. “But we like them all the same. You think we’d crowd your kitchen if we dinnae?”
“I mean, you were reindeer, so maybe things tasted different…” The most brilliant of all ideas comes to me. “Ohhh, I know what we’re going to do.” A wide smile stretches across my face.
All the guys stop and stare at me for a second, like they’re frozen.
I take a second to make eye contact with each one of them. “We’re going to cook a bunch of different kinds of cookies, and then we’re going to have a blind taste test. I want to see which ones are your favorites!”
“Mine are–”
I cut Gus off, even though it makes him glower at me. I squeeze his hand as I say, “Don’t tell me! It’ll ruin the fun!”
“But Nico just told you Cal’s.” Dem shakes his head with a wry smirk tilting up his lips.
“Then I’ll search for his second favorite,” I respond, already excited enough to clap my hands together. This will be perfect. It will give us the chance to chat and get to know each other and for me to figure out exactly what having a Center means to them.
Bryn opens the door to my cabin and holds it like a doorman, doing an adorable little arm sweep as he says, “Your castle, my lady,” and tries not to yawn.
“Thank you, evil sir.” I wink, and his grin makes his cheeks flush.
“So, you want some help?” Cal asks, once we’re all in my living room. “I’m an excellent sous chef.”
I can tell he’s lying, but it’s so damn sweet of him to offer. “Sure,” I say, detangling my hand from Gus’s. The wrath demon gives a discontented growl until I turn and glance up at him. “Gus, honey, you think you and Dem could start the fire?”
I swear, at the word “honey” his eyes dilate and his breathing stops.
