Page 37 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

“I’ve got plenty. It’s no problem at all.”

My eyes narrowed. “Okay. What gives? Where’s Axel? What have you done with him?” I stared at his broad back. The way his shoulders filled out his long sleeved Henley, which he’d pulled up to his elbows. The bits of hair that curled around the nape of his neck. The way his jeans hugged his ass.

He glanced at me over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow.

“You open your house to me. Proceed to cook me dinner. Offer my bunnies food—oh!” A little laugh of realization burst from my chest. “You feel bad! I knew it. You gave me the cold shoulder last week. And now you feel bad.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He reached for a dishtowel, then pulled the oven open, reaching in for the baking dish. The kitchen erupted with the delicious aroma of baked trout swimming in some kind of yellow sauce.

“Don’t lie. First you stalked me. Then you tagged along. But next thing I know, you’re staring ice daggers at me in The Roost. Now you feel guilty about it.”

He set the dish down onto a hotpad, looking overly focused on the task at hand.

“Axel.”

“Don’t read into this more than necessary. You’re here because that gobshite witch was threatening you. I have the means to keep you safe. End of story.”

“Yes, but I don’t see you adopting other women off the streets. Not like my story is unique.”

I could practically hear his irration in the sigh he expelled. “You want dinner, or not?”

“Yes, please.”

“Then drop it. Otherwise, I walk out. There’s a reason I live alone.”

Stung, I snapped my mouth shut. If that’s how he wanted it? Then fine.

I remained silent as he dished up two plates, artfully arranging our food like a three Michelin star dining establishment. He didn’t explain the dish when he set it in front of me. Then he took the seat beside me—I half expected him to leave one between us—and without a single word, tucked into his food.

Did wolves get grumpy when they were hungry? The thought almost made me smile. Instead, I picked up my fork and did the same.

And promptly moaned aloud the moment the flaky white fish hit my tongue. I could sense rather than see Axel freeze. I didn’t care. I quickly took another bite. The sauce was some kind of lemon butter, with herbs. He’d seared the fish on one side and baked it the rest of the way. So it had a nice char. The veggies were also seared to perfection. And there was wild rice resting beneath the trout that had cranberries and nuts.

It was, quite frankly, the best thing I’d had to eat in as long as I could remember.

Suddenly my cooking prowess seemed a little lack-luster. Great. So much for my self confidence.

If he could whip up something this good on the fly, I could only imagine what he might do when he planned something special.

Ignoring his gaze burning into the side of my face, I continued to eat. At last, he returned to his dish. A few minutes later, he went back for seconds. I wanted to, but my tummy was full to bursting. So instead, I sat in silence and watched him polish off three plates of dinner.

Wolves…

“What time do you teach tomorrow?”

I picked up the glass of water in front of me and took a sip. When I didn’t answer right away, he pinned me with his full stare. I continued to play with my fork and contemplate my empty plate.

“Rebecca.” It came out more as a growl. And somehow, that made the sound of my name on his lips even more problematic. Because I felt the reverberation of it deep inside my chest before it made its way down to my core, tightening every muscle in my body.

“Are you purposefully not answering me?”

“You live alone because you don’t want people talking to you, so…”

“Fucking hell,” he muttered. “It was not my intention to offend you.”

“Well, it kinda stung.”

He rotated to fully face me. When I didn’t look at him, his hand shot out, grabbed the base of my barstool, and rotated it ninety degrees until I had no choice but to stare straight at him. Into his beautiful, scarred face.