Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Voila!” Fred said without looking up, and kissed the tips of her fingers.
“Nessa, you can use that oven.” Austin pointed at it. “It won’t fit all four of our lasagnas. That’s what we’re doing, right? Two each?”
“Yep,” she replied.
“Feel free to set the temperature. I’ll use the oven in one of the other houses.”
“Cool.” Nessa stepped back from her carefully organized ingredients for a moment. “Let’s do this.”
After Tristan had delivered the message to Mr. Tom, Fred said, “Tristan, you’re tall. C’mere and help me.” She grabbed the satellite portion of the setup and motioned him toward the front door.
Sebastian moved seats so that he could face the kitchen, and we settled in to watch them work.
Tristan
“That’ll do, thanks.” Fred gave Tristan a thumbs up while looking at the satellite, a mostly flat, rectangular device they’d attached to a long pole. He’d had to work that pole into the hard packed earth, driving it down deep enough that any wind that kicked up wouldn’t knock it down.
They’d only need it for a short while. They couldn’t stay here long—they still had to get to the Nikken cairn to meet that new leader. Then Austin had a few smaller but influential packs he wanted to hit before he tackled one of the larger, prestigious, long-established packs whose alpha dominated the collective brain of the shifters. That alpha likely wouldn’t agree to work under Austin’s tutelage, but that meeting and the probable standoff between the two would go a long way to showcase Austin’s power and organization. It was necessary to finally put the rumors to rest.
It was time for Austin Steele to flex, and Tristan could not wait to see the reactions he got, or for them to pick on Jessie. She would rock their world.
Tristan nodded and held out his hand for his shirt. Mr. Tom should’ve been here with sandwiches by now. He was starving.
“Oh. Yeah.” Fred handed over the garment, sparing a quick glance at his torso. “I’d be really afraid to meet you in a dark alley.”
He grinned. “For many reasons.”
She formed a duckbill with her mouth, nodding, as she looked at the sky. “I hope we don’t have a hurricane or a tornado or whatever passes for terrible weather in this part of the world.”
“For many reasons,” he repeated, turning for the backdoor.
Sebastian jumped up when Tristan entered the kitchen. “Here, you can have my seat.”
“No, it’s fine, I’ll—“
“You’ll want to watch her at work.” Sebastian dragged another of the chairs away toward the wall and sat down. “Besides, maybe showing off for you will give her an edge.”
Natasha glanced at him in annoyance, saw Tristan, and did a double take, freezing with her knife poised over a half-chopped onion. Her gaze roamed his gleaming chest, slick with sweat, and her energy spiked. Frenzied pulses of light danced between them, reaching for him as desire filled her eyes, daring him to come closer. Daring herself to will it.
“Or maybe I’ll be a distraction,” he said with a smirk. Dropping his shirt onto the table, he headed for the bathroom. “I’ll just clean up and allow you to get back to it, shall I, little angel?”
She jerked as though slapped, and now her energy turned tumultuous, churning and rolling. It washed across him, thick and heady. Needy, almost. She liked the teasing, even if she wouldn’t admit it. He remembered that she’d liked being manhandled by him, as well, relinquishing control and delighting in his dominance. It hadn’t been the right time to explore it. It still wasn’t. She was edging closer to the cliff, taunting herself with the games, daring herself to give in, but she wasn’t quite ready to jump. She still feared no one would be there to catch her.
He didn’t mind waiting. The fun was in the chase.
He winked at her before he was out of sight. Her scowl made him laugh.
After cleaning up, he passed through the hall in time to see Mr. Tom come through the door carrying a large brown paper bag.
“Need help?” Tristan asked, putting a hand on the doorframe.
Mr. Tom eyed him. “With what, getting dressed?” He didn’t wait for an answer, hurrying toward Jessie and leaving Tristan to close the door.
“And here we are,” Mr. Tom said as he stopped at the table. “I apologize for the delay, miss, but half the food you bought was already eaten by the time I got Austin Steele’s message, and I had to send Ulric to the store to get more lunchmeat. You’d think we hadn’t fed any of those people in the last year. Well, anyway, I made you plenty to tide you over while the culinary contest drags on.”
He threaded between Austin and Natasha to grab some plates.
“Thank you, Mr. Tom,” Jessie gushed, reaching into the bag to grab one of the brown wrapped bundles.