Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 39650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
As they walked into the kitchen, Mitch realized his mate had been trying to protect him by offering to leave. While completely unnecessary, it was also a sign of caring, which pleased him. “Have a seat,” he said, tilting his chin toward the small round table in the corner of the kitchen. “I’ll get the food ready.”
“You don’t have to wait on me.”
“I don’t mind.” Mitch wanted to care for his mate, needed to.
“I can help.”
“You rest. I’ll do this.” He walked over to the fridge, opened the door, and said, “Did you decide whether you want steak, chicken, burgers, or something else?”
“Mitch?”
The hesitancy in Simon’s voice had Mitch turning around. “Yes?”
“I’d like to cook.” He lowered his gaze and his cheeks reddened. “I’ve never really had access to a kitchen where I could make my own meals, but if you don’t want me to use your things…”
Mitch’s heart broke all over again. Someday he’d find out why his mate had been without a pack, but he wouldn’t push. Not yet. “Our kitchen.”
Simon jerked his gaze up and drew his eyebrows together.
“You’re my mate,” Mitch explained yet again. “That makes this our home.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know you’re mine.” And that was more than enough. Time would allow him to learn the details of Simon’s life, but he trusted his gut, his instincts, always and in all things. This man was made for him and that was all there was. Mitch was certain that once Simon let his walls down and embraced him and their mating, they’d make a perfect match. Already, he admired Simon’s steely core, his spark, the way his mind ran nonstop, and the gentleness that occasionally peeked out from underneath the iron shell he wore.
Simon shook his head. “I’m only here until the end of the month.”
That was a first step, not the end goal. Mitch hadn’t wanted to ask for too much time and risk scaring off his mate, but he needed long enough to show him that he didn’t need to run, that he’d enjoy being part of a pack, and that a pack would value him. Arguing about how long he’d be in Blue Mountain would only make Simon pull away, so instead Mitch said, “The fridge is stocked. Same with the pantry.” He stepped aside to give Simon room to work. “Have at it and tell me what you want me to do.”
Simon scooted forward hesitantly, watching Mitch as if expecting him to change his mind or say it was a trick. When Mitch smiled reassuringly, Simon kept walking. He opened the refrigerator and, with a final glance at Mitch, looked inside.
“I’ve never made hamburgers.”
“A couple of nights a week, I eat with Freddy and his family, but the rest of the time, I’m here on my own.” Mitch slowly moved toward Simon. “I’m not one for crowded restaurants, especially at the end of the day, so I’ve learned to get by in the kitchen.” He kept walking. “Hamburgers are one of my favorite things.” He stopped when he was close enough to touch, but he settled for gazing into Simon’s green eyes. “Do you want me to teach you?”
After a considering pause, Simon nodded.
“Great.” He smiled and then reached inside the refrigerator, intentionally brushing against Simon’s side.
Simon’s breath hitched, and he moved a bit, but not so far that he was out of Mitch’s reach.
“I’m sure there are more gourmet ways to do it, but it’s just me here so I go for simple.” Mitch picked up the meat and a bag of shredded cheese. He turned around and looked down, meeting Simon’s gaze. “I mix a little cheese in with the beef.” He put his hand on Simon’s hip, slowly scooted him backward, letting the refrigerator door close, and then reached around him and set the items on the counter. “I also put some of this in.” He opened one of the pantry cabinet doors, picked up a packet of onion soup powder, and showed it to Simon. “Then I pat it into the right shape and throw it on the grill for a minute.”
“That—” Simon swallowed hard and then cleared his throat. “That sounds good.” He reached for the soup packet in Mitch’s hand. “I’ll give it a shot.”
When Simon wrapped his fingers around the soup, Mitch curled his hand over Simon’s. “I have one of those tubes for bread rolls. Do you want me to make them?” Mitch spoke quietly, almost whispering. “And I can make a vegetable.”
“What’s your favorite kind?”
With Simon so close, his scent surrounded Mitch and filled him with a combination of need and comfort. “Broccoli.” Mitch licked his lips. “What about you?”
“I like broccoli too.”
“I’ll make broccoli then.”
They stood quietly, Mitch still gripped Simon’s hip with one hand and curled his other hand over Simon’s fingers.