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“I should be going,” he bit out, but it felt like too little, too late, even if it was safer for him to leave. Safe, as in some things just weren’t meant to be and shouldn’t be meddled with and enough humans knew about shifters as it was. There really didn’t need to be any more. He was perfectly content with his life the way it was.
He didn’t need dates. He didn’t need to consider taking a mate.
His heart wasn’t in dire need of rescuing or saving. He wasn’t lonely. His life had tons of meaning.
But he didn’t move. For one, January was blocking the door. She seemed as paralyzed as he was. Neither of them could move, so June took the lead. She walked calmly to the fridge and took out a pack of steaks. To her credit, she had one lean, mean neutral expression on. She wasn’t grinning widely anymore. “Great. Three for dinner it is.”
Chapter 6
January
Sitting down to a steak dinner was something January rarely did. She lived alone now, and she didn’t bother with cooking steaks for herself. Her parents, for whatever reason, didn’t often opt for them either. Jotham had liked chicken so much better, or the chicken of the sea. His favorite thing on earth was tuna sandwiches. Nothing against the most delicious fish, but she’d be happy if she never had to eat another tuna sandwich or tuna steak again.
June hadn’t asked them how they liked their steak. She’d done it the best she could out there on the grill, with the whipping wind that stole most of the heat and a propane tank that was just about empty.
“I hope they’re not raw. I mean, rare is good, isn’t it?”
January cut into her steak and gulped. Red juicy stuff that looked a lot like blood swirled on her plate around the meat and soaked into her rice. It smelled good, even if it didn’t appear all that appetizing. For her sister, because she looked so eager to please, January took a bite.
“Actually… it’s pretty good.”
June let out a huge sigh, like the fate of the world depended on her steak cooking skills. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.”
“Rare is perfect,” Tavish agreed, but only after January had rendered her opinion. She wondered if he liked it that way or if he was just saying so to be nice.
He’d agreed to stay for dinner, but only because June had probably pressured him into it while she’d been in the outhouse. He’d taken a seat on the couch at June’s urging, and she’d cooked the rice and set the table. He hadn’t asked her repeatedly if he could help. He’d just looked out the window, appearing to be as uncomfortable as she was while June wasn’t in the room with them.
It wasn’t the bad kind of tension between them that filled up the cabin. It was the kind of tension people felt when they wanted to do something and say something, when they were waiting to burst into action, but something was holding them back.
Alright, there was probably a side order of sexual tension she felt as well. Raw attraction.
She’d thought that the teenage, hormone swirling, ovary overwhelming, knee weakening feelings were long done with. She was pretty darn wrong, because she’d barely managed to cook rice while her body burned itself up internally.
When she’d signed her divorce papers, the thought of dating made her a little bit sick.
She didn’t feel sick now.
That wasn’t why her stomach was clenched tighter than a shaking fist raised in the air.
Dinner was a pretty silent and awkward affair. June scarfed her steak down and glanced through the front window. “Oh my gosh. I think I left the grill on. I better go check.”
“I thought you said it was out of propane.”
She had said that. She’d blamed the rawness of the steaks on the tank.
June gave her one of those covert smiles of hers. January managed to hold in the massive sigh that wanted to tear loose. She’d beg her sister to stop plotting if Tavish wasn’t sitting right there.
If she really wanted to tell June something, Tavish’s presence wouldn’t stop her. If she wanted to express her opinions, she’d just state them.
Instead, she let June scamper out the door. She cut the buttery soft steak and popped another piece into her mouth. June had outdone herself with her grilling mishaps. It turned the steaks into something wonderful. Sometimes things happened that way. The good stuff came by accident.
Like this man sitting across the table from her.
When he cleared his throat, January just about jumped out of her seat. “I was wondering…”
She dropped her knife and fork and swallowed so loudly that she wanted to laugh at herself. Tavish looked straight ahead, right at her. He wasn’t blinking. He swallowed hard too. He hadn’t even jumped when she dropped her fork.
“I was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner. Greenacre doesn’t have a restaurant. It did, but it closed, and we haven’t had anyone reopen it. But maybe… I could cook.”
