Page 63 of Mortis

“So quiet on your feet for a seven-foot cryptid with hooves,” he muttered.

I smiled. Lifting one foot, I gently brushed my very human toes against his ankle. The touch made his breath catch in his throat, and a rosy blush spread across the tops of his cheeks.

“My hooves are currently hidden,” I replied, deliberately lowering my voice.

Arlo was out for the evening on a date. Still, Teddy had warned me he sometimes returned early if his choice of male failed to meet his exacting standards.

“It’s those fluffy socks you gifted me.” I smiled down at him. “They soften my footsteps. So really, you only have yourself to blame.”

Teddy rolled his eyes, though I noticed the corners of his mouth twitched. “You could wear tap shoes twenty-four hours a day, and you’d still somehow manage to sneak up on me.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what tap shoes were, but I understood the sentiment.

“May I help with dinner?” I asked again.

Judging by the way his eyes widened, I was fairly certain he hadn’t heard me the first time.

“You want to help?”

I nodded, taking a small step backwards to give him room. His gaze drifted between me and the dough, and after a thoughtful breath, he smiled.

“Okay.” Something inside me lit up. “Wash your hands and I’ll find you an apron.”

A few moments later I was wearing an identical apron to Teddy’s and holding the wooden rolling pin.

“Right,” Teddy said. “Roll the dough out nice and evenly.”

I began to follow his instructions, resting the rolling pin against the squishy surface. Just as I began pushing forwards, Teddy’s hand closed gently around my wrist, and I froze.

“Remember,” he said softly. “Be gentle.”

I nodded. Yet all I could think about was the warmth of his hand. The softness of his skin. The pleasant heat slowly spreading up my arm from where he touched me.

“You forget your own strength sometimes,” he continued. “And I’d rather you didn’t destroy the dough.”

Right.

Teddy had spent the better part of an hour preparing this meal for me. The last thing I wanted was to ruin it through carelessness.

I wanted to help him.

To be useful.

To make him smile.

Being extra careful, I rolled the wooden cylinder back and forth over the dough until it became thinner and wider.

“There.” Teddy took the rolling pin from me before handing me a white dish. “Turn that upside down and put it on the dough.”

I frowned. Not entirely certain what he meant, I simply placed it on top the right way up. Judging by Teddy’s breathy laugh, I’d misunderstood.

“Almost.” Still smiling, he leaned into my side before lifting the dish and turning it over. “There. The wide bit goes on the pastry, see?”

I nodded. That made considerably more sense.

“We’ll cut around the pie dish so the dough is the right size, and then we’ll stick it inside.”

Teddy reached for a small knife, instinctively picking it up by the blade before turning it around to pass me the handle for my safety.