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“So why are you the CEO of a billion-dollar business and not cooking?” she asks. “Because you look happy.”
I keep my tone light on a dark story. “Was never happier than when I was in the kitchen. The part of Louisiana I’m from is small. Few had much, our family more than most. A local gang decided they wanted to take what my family had instead of working for it. They robbed the place, set fire to our restaurant, and I lost everyone and everything that night. My family, my home, a way to earn my living, and myself.”
Everleigh is silent for a beat. “Lawrence took me from everything I know. He made me realize I didn’t know who I was at all, but I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you. I’m sorry.”
I nod. “It is what it is.”
I throw the last of the ingredients in the pot. My mind is still in the past and the family—the future, home, and self—I lost when Everleigh’s buttery vanilla-coconut scent drifts closer.
I turn my head to the side, curious because it’s not like her to approach me so directly.
She stops an inch away, grips the front of my shirt, and tugs. I fold myself toward her. Instantly.
And thenshegivesmea soft kiss on the tip of my nose. Letting me go, she clears her throat and says shyly, “You said it was okay for me to do it.”
“Sweetheart, you can do anything and everything to me and I wouldn’t mind it.” I smile.
Her cheeks turn pink, and I wait for her to retreat.
She doesn’t return to the counter as I’d expected. When her eyes dart to my mouth, I ignore my simmering pot in favor of something so much sweeter.
“Don’t have to stop there if you want more,” I murmur.
She licks her lips.
Arousal punches through me, tightening my belly.
“You said you had an appetite,” she says.
I nod. “I did.”
She studies me for a beat and then takes a small step back. “Then I don’t think I can… I don’t think—”
“Then we won’t,” I interrupt. “Need a boost?”
She blinks at me. “A boost.”
I point my chin at the counter she jumped from. After hesitating, she nods once.
Gripping her by her hips, I return her to the counter and swing back to the pot as if it didn’t take every ounce of willpower in me to take my hands off her. As if I’m not struggling to hold myself—and my arousal—in check at having her so close.
But I feel her gaze on me.
“You’re good at ignoring your alpha instincts,” she says. “Are they not strong?”
Which means Lawrence didn’t even try. He must not have given a shit what she wanted to have her thinking all other alphas would treat her just the same. The thought makes me want to mince something. Not onion or garlic. Lawrence’s head.
“They’re manageable,” I say when I’ve been in a near constant battle to rein them in.
But my determination to give Everleigh the safe haven she needs is greater than my need to claim her. That won’t last. For now, I can do it. So can Cian and Kylian. Soon, we’ll all fall prey to our instincts, Everleigh included.
I go back to filling the kitchen with delicious smells, and Everleigh to observing me in the way that’s pushing me to make this the best damn meal she’s eaten in her life.
“I was thinking,” she says quietly and then stops so suddenly, it immediately captures my full attention.
When I glance at her, she isn’t looking at me. Is, in fact, studying her bare toes. “Cher?”
Still not looking at me, she twists her fingers together and says, “I like Pack Ashe type of cozy.”
