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“I will never turn down food.” Lucas rubs his hands together.
“Go, sit down and get comfortable.” I wave them towards the couch when they stand there staring.
It’s only a dozen feet away, so we can talk as I cook. I take out some of the steak, sour cream, eggs, and milk. I rummage through the cupboards to find the flour and some seasoning. A sense of calm settles over me as I start preparing the noodles.
“You do enjoy cooking,” Logan observes, settling on the couch.
“I do. When I was young, I had hoped that my mom would teach me, but she was not good at it and didn’t do it much. I would go to my friend's house and was more excited to watch her mom cook than play with her.” I glance at them. “She would get so mad at me. I found it fascinating that you could take a few ingredients and make something yummy.”
I like how relaxed they are, watching my hands as I work. “It’s also love.” Their eyes snap up. “We all have to eat. If we don’t, our bodies won’t work. I think it is the ultimate gift to cook for someone. To nourish the body. But it also gives pleasure and contentment to the mind.” I crack the eggs into the flour and add the milk. “It’s social also. What do we do when we are eating? We talk. We talk about our days or current events. We work out problems together. We laugh together.” I use my hands to knead the dough. “As I got older, I tried to cook for my family, expecting that feeling. Unfortunately, they didn’t appreciate it. That is the key, too: to have someone that appreciates it.”
“We appreciate it,” Logan says softly.
“I know.” I lay the ball of dough on the counter, put the bowl in the sink, and search the drawers for a rolling pin.
“You're making homemade noodles?” Lucas asks faintly.
“Yes. I don’t have the time to dry them out properly, but it’s almost better this way. Yeah, found it.” I hold the pin up triumphant, and they laugh. It’s good to hear them laugh. “I hate it because I don’t have anyone to cook for. Working at the bakery isn’t the same as doing for someone you care about. Steph would come over so I could do it for her.”
“You have someone now,” Las assures me.
“Three someones,” Lucas adds.
“I do, don’t I.” Rolling out the dough is the best arm workout. “I specialize in breads, cakes, cookies, maybe some pies. But I like the regular meals, too. I don’t do anything fancy, but I get the feeling you guys don’t want that.”
“We would eat anything you put in front of us, but we are not fancy eaters.” Logan sits forward. “Do you need help?”
“No. Be comfortable.” I wave my flour-covered hand his way. “Do you guys like building things? Well, obviously,” I snort.
“I’ve always been good at it,” Logan starts. “I didn’t start doing it seriously until we moved here.”
“I like the business part better,” Las says.
“I enjoy seeing something start from the ground up. The progress of it,” Lucas voices his reasons.
“I agree,” Logan says.
“You built this place, your house, and the cottage?” I ask as I cut the noodles.
“We did.”
“I can’t imagine being good at that. It’s admirable.” I set the pasta aside and started the water to boil.
“You do.” I look at Lucas. “You build the food.”
I grin. “You’re right.” I get a cutting board and the meat. “How do you guys know Ava and her mates?”
The pause is long enough that I glance up. “The shifter community here is large enough that we met a lot of shifters,” Logan finally answers.
That is such a bullshit answer. I’m patient, though; we have time. “That’s nice. You know the vampire too, Ryker?”
“We do. He’s very old and powerful.” Lucas shudders.
“You were scared of him,” Las says with a twinkle in his eye.
Lucas smacks him. “Hey, it’s healthy to be leery of a vampire that old. You know he’s done some things in that long of a life.”
“Is he someone I should be leery of?” I ask as I slice the meat.
