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As I move closer to the counter, a few scents hit me. Fresh herbs like basil and cilantro mix with garlic, peppercorn, and a few other scents I can’t pick out as they all mingle.
My stomach turns, but it has nothing to do with the scents and everything to do with my inability to smell them. With my beast, I would have been able to pick up these scents from the door when I entered. Now, I can hardly get a grip on them, even standing within arm’s reach.
I push the thought away, knowing I’ll fall into panic if I think about it for too long.
One thing at a time. First, I need to figure out where the hell I am and how to get home.
“Ryker.”
I turn to face him, unable to keep the shock off my face, not that it matters, considering he’s not looking at me anyway. I’m unsure why, but I hadn’t actually expected him to tell me.
“Ryker,” I say, testing it. I’ve never met anyone with that name before, but I like it. Somehow, it suits him, or as much as I know about him, which I guess isn’t much.
“I like it. It’s different. I’ve never met anyone with that name before, never even heard of it before now.” He scoffs and shakes his head but doesn’t say anything.
Okay, so maybe he’s not a fan of it, but who likes their own name?
I don’t.
“Whatcha makin’?” I ask, moving closer to him in an attempt to peek over his shoulder. He turns a moment later, and I’m caught off guard as we come face to face. We are so close that I could pick apart the shades of purple his eyes glow. I gasp not only at the colors but at the unexpected closeness, and his scent assaults me. The same fresh woodsy scent mixed with the old leather of books from earlier.
It was him.
I teeter, trying to step back but feeling stuck in place.
Shit, I haven’t been this clumsy in a long time, but for some reason, I’m like a newborn deer tonight.
I never hit the ground, though. Instead, his arm wraps around my waist, yanking me to him. Fuck my life, I almost wish he would have just let me fall.
What is with me lately, all it takes is some big hot guy, and I’m a blushing, horny mess.
I don’t even know this one! I mentally yell at myself, but it’s no use. Once again, I feel my cheeks heat, and unfortunately, I know it has nothing to do with the fire he’s cooking over.
“You’re rather clumsy,” he says, and I get the feeling he doesn’t entertain guests often. That’s at least the second time he’s said something that could be taken as offensive, but just like before, it doesn’t feel like that’s his goal. Either that, or he has a really good poker face.
“Not normally, at least not anymore. I was a mess as a kid, tripping over my feet all the time, but I mostly grew out of that. Or at least I thought I did,” I tell him, only to cringe at the word vomit that just fell from my lips.
I blame it on his scent and his eyes. I swear they’re hypnotizing me, swirling with color that calls me to him like a moth to the flame.
His eyes search my face, and I’m not sure what he’s looking for or if he finds it because the next moment, he releases me, quickly turning back around to stir the contents of the cauldron. I step back until my ass hits the counter behind me. My heart is beating erratically, and I reach back to grip the harsh wood of the counter to try to ground myself.
“Dinner’s done,” he says, standing from the chair and walking toward me. I freeze, not even daring to take a breath.
He doesn’t even look down at me as he reaches up into a cabinet above me for something before turning away again. I watch as he scoops some kind of soup into the two bowls he just grabbed before setting them on the one clear spot on the counter nearest the cauldron. He rummages around for a moment before pulling out a loaf of bread. Instead of cutting pieces off, he tears off two chunks before dropping one into each bowl.
“Vegetable beef soup,” he says, holding a bowl out to me.
It takes me a second to register that he’s offering it to me and another before I can make myself move to grab it. The second I take the bowl, he leaves, headed back out the way we just came.
Get it together, Serena. Stop acting like a bitch in heat with the creepy shadow guy from the woods!
With one more deep breath, I steel myself and follow him.
I expect to find him in one of the chairs in front of the fire. Instead, he sits on the plush pelt rug in the center of the room. It seems strange, but I don’t ask about it. I drop down on the far corner of the rug from him with my bowl.
For the first time since he handed it to me, I look at its contents and breathe in the smell. Not only does it look great, but it smells heavenly.
My stomach growls, and I realize I’m starving, damn near salivating, just looking at it.
