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He frowned and for a beat, Reika wondered if she'd have to ask someone to physically get him out. Then he grumbled something unintelligible and went to the bowl and ingredients. He lifted a measuring cup, held it high, dipped it into the flour, and made a show of dumping it into the bowl.
He waited, as if he wanted praise for the simple task. Men weren't so different here in that respect—they wanted recognition for doing something minimal. "Good job. Now do the rest. Otherwise, I won't share my omelets with you."
She turned before he could speak, but she heard a low growl.
He really was a growly one.
Although secretly she loved each and every one as they rolled over her and made parts of her ache and tingle. Parts she shouldn't be thinking with as she handled the giant cast iron stove.
No sex dreams in the kitchen.Sticking to that new rule, she started frying vegetables in the pan with grease. It wasn't long before Stone grunted, and she nearly shivered at the deep sound. She resisted looking at him but wondered what was wrong with her. Here she was, who the hell knew where, in a strange place, and maybe even in the past. She shouldn't have time to like or lust after any male, no matter how he affected her.
Thankfully the coal stove required her attention to not burn or undercook her omelet. Probably thanks to her working with gas stoves over the years and knowing how to handle flames, she somehow managed three omelets without any major disaster. And once they were done, she turned, only to find Stone standing a foot away from her.
She hadn't even heard him move.
His golden eyes glared down. The focused gaze made her heart race.
Somehow, she kept her voice even as she said, "Excuse me, I need to get through."
He held up his bowl and then handed it to her.
Then he turned and went back to his post at the far side of the room and crossed his arms. Before she could stop herself, she blurted, "You really don't talk a lot, do you?"
He grunted and said nothing.
But for a split second, his lips twitched. That was probably his equivalent of a full-blown grin.
She smiled at him on purpose and his brows drew together.
Shrugging, she put the bowl down—the bread needed to rise—and took the three plates with omelets, placing one in front of Yesenia, another at her spot, and the third across the table from her seat. She gestured. "That's for you, Stone, if you can spare a few minutes from glare duty."
Yesenia snorted, but Reika was too hungry to reply. She dug into her first bite and moaned. Even if the stove was a bit iffy, her magic had helped to make it taste delicious.
Stone halted in the process of sitting down and stared at her. She swallowed. "What?"
Shaking his head, he sat down. And despite wanting to inhale her food, she watched Stone take his first bite. He didn't moan, but his eyes widened.
"Good, huh?"
He nodded and tucked in.
Yeah, he definitely wasn't a talker.
And yet, she didn't seem to mind.
ChapterFive
Stone had never eaten anything as good as what the chit had made him. River had explained Reika's magic, and if the now-empty plate was any sign, one he wanted to lick clean, she was extremely skilled with it.
And if he were truly trying to win her, or thought she'd want him for more than a quick tumble, he'd tell her so.
But he had too many issues, too much in his past, and it was almost as if the floodgates would open if he started telling Reika anything.
So he remained silent and waited for her to finish. She took dainty bites, moaning without realizing it, and it took everything he had not to adjust the hard cock in his trousers.
Thankfully Yesenia spoke up, which stopped Reika's little delicious noises. "You really can cook, Reika. The only other time I remember things being this good was when my stepmother was alive. She had the ability to make things grow to their very best—the biggest, the tastiest, the easiest to grow, you name it. I don't remember her being an amazing cook, but if the ingredients were like crack, she couldn't really mess it up."
Stone watched Yesenia a beat. He didn't know much about her past, really. Or, rather, the future to him, which was still her past.
