With that, Matt left, and Caleb closed the door, leaning back against it as he steadied himself. The house felt different already—warmer, more alive. His senses were drawn upward to his mate, soaking in the bath. He closed his eyes, unable to stop himself from imagining her there, surrounded by scented bubbles, her skin flushed from the heat.
He dared not think any more about that, about how the bubbles would cling to her soft skin when she got out, tracing paths down her body as she reached for a towel...
He shook his head and pushed away from the door, heading for the kitchen.Focus on something practical,he told himself firmly. Coffee. He could make coffee.
His movements were automatic as he measured grounds into the filter, filled the reservoir with water, and set the machine to brew. The familiar ritual helped calm his racing thoughts, though his bear remained on high alert, attuned to every small sound from upstairs.
She’s taking a bath in our house,his bear marveled for the hundredth time.
Are we back to narrating again?Caleb asked, but his tone was good-natured as he opened the refrigerator and peered in.
The contents were depressingly sparse. Half a carton of eggs, some cheese past its prime, condiments, and little else. He usually ate at the restaurant; it had become a habit over the years. His house had always been just a place to sleep, not a home.
The sound of water draining upstairs pulled him from his thoughts. His bear perked up immediately.
She’s finished her bath,his bear observed unnecessarily.
Anxiety twisted in Caleb’s stomach. This was it, the moment she’d see his failings as a host, the barrenness of his refrigerator, the emptiness of his life outside the restaurant.
No, she won’t,his bear assured him.Just be yourself.
But Caleb often wondered who he was, beyond the restaurant manager, beyond the reliable brother, the loving son, beyond the steady presence everyone counted on. His life had been all about the restaurant because he’d always had this big gaping hole that only his mate could fill.
She’s here now,his bear reminded him gently.
He heard her coming downstairs, her footsteps light on the wooden treads. His pulse quickened as he swallowed hard, then realized how strange he’d look just standing there, leaning against the counter, watching her walk into the kitchen.
He busied himself quickly, pouring two cups of coffee, his movements stiff with self-consciousness. He could barely breathe as he sensed her in the doorway.
“Hi,” he said, turning around with what felt like an artificial smile.
“Hi,” Hannah replied, smiling nervously. She was dressed in a pair of cotton pants and a warm sweater... not his, he noted sadly, but her own clothes from her bag.
“Coffee?” he offered, holding out a mug, hoping she couldn’t see the slight tremor in his hand. “I don’t know how you take it... cream, sugar?”
“Black is fine,” she said, accepting the cup with both hands, her fingers brushing his for the briefest, electric moment. “Thank you.”
The simple touch sent a jolt through him, like static electricity but warmer, deeper. His bear hummed with contentment.
“You must be hungry,” Caleb said, glancing back at his pathetic refrigerator. “I should have thought about dinner.”
“It’s okay,” Hannah assured him, but her stomach betrayed her with a soft growl.
Caleb couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t have much in, I’m afraid. I usually eat at the restaurant.”
He opened the fridge again, this time staring so hard you’d think it might magically refill itself.
Checking if food spontaneously generated since you last looked?his bear quipped.
Caleb sighed, pushing around a sad container of questionable leftovers. “I’m a terrible host.”
“Let me see,” Hannah said, suddenly beside him. The proximity made his skin prickle with awareness as she leaned in, surveying the barren shelves.
She pointed. “Eggs. Cheese. And I bet you’ve got some canned stuff in the cupboard?”
“Yeah, but...”
“Perfect.” She smiled, already rolling up her sleeves. “I can work with that.”
