I’m Storm.”
Nicholas shook his hand. “Nicholas.”
Jason slid his hand into Nicholas’s, separating it from Storm’s.
“Nice to meet you. Don’t mind my mate. He’s new at shifting and loves to be in his cat form.” Storm reached down, scratching behind the cat’s ear.
“He’s adorable.” Nicholas pulled Jason close when he let off a low growl. Storm looked over at Jason, studying him for a moment before smiling.
“It’s good to see you mated, Jason.” Storm led the cat away.
“He seems nice.”
“Mine,” Jason growled, pulling Nicholas close. Nicholas was the one thing in Jason’s life that belonged solely to him. He would kill anyone that threatened to come between them. He knew Storm wasn’t flirting, and neither was Nicholas, but his possessiveness kicked in and made him want to hurt anyone that came near his mate.
“Dear god, I have a caveman. Come on, feed me.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot.” Jason’s face fell as he pulled Nicholas down the stairs. He would have to take better care of his mate. Forgetting to feed him would be very bad.
“Well, if it isn’t my buddy, Jason.” George smiled as Jason guided Nicholas into the kitchen.
“George, this is, uh, my mate. His name is Nicholas.” Jason pulled a chair out, sitting his mate down. George watched him closely then nodded over at him.
“Glad to meet ya,” George said as he turned back to the stove, spatula in hand.
“You, too.” Nicholas smiled.
“My mate’s hungry, can you feed him?” Jason didn’t like that he had to ask anyone else to see to his mate’s needs, but he was a horrible cook and didn’t want to kill the guy. He was an expert at burning toast and prayed he never had to cook for his mate.
“Coming right up.” George began to toss things around, pans clanking as he broke egg shells.
Jason stood behind Nicholas’s chair, placing his hands on the back of it. He watched George scramble eggs, slide bread into the toaster, and push sliced potatoes around the grill. His mate was going to enjoy this. Jason did every time George cooked.
* * * *
Nicholas watched Jason, but his wolf didn’t growl at George. So it was okay to talk to the smaller men, but not the big ones. Gotcha. Nicholas made a mental note not to touch the bigger ones.
“It smells good, George.” Nicholas’s stomach was trying to claw its way out to get to that aroma. It had been a long time since he had a home-cooked meal. His mother wasn’t the cooking type. The cook at his parents’ home was good, but it had been years since he lived there. He usually grabbed whatever was in the hospital cafeteria, and the nights he wasn’t working, he ordered out or ate at a restaurant.
George turned to Nicholas and smiled as he nodded. “Thanks, I’ll have it ready for ya in no time.” He twirled the spatula in his hand and began to whistle softly.
Nicholas reached down to his cell phone when his hip began to vibrate. He prayed it wasn’t his father. Nicholas was so not in a mood this morning to listen to his bullshit. He knew sooner or later he would have to hear his father’s mouth, but he would prefer later, much later. It seemed Nicholas got an instant headache any time he even looked at dear old dad.
He tapped the screen and put the phone to his ear. “Dr. Nicholas Sheehan,” he answered.
“Well, don’t you sound all professional.”
Nicholas smiled at Rebecca’s voice. He was aware Jason was standing right behind him dissecting his every word. “Hey, Becky.”
“Nicky, your father’s in a rage, screaming about you leaving in the middle of a shift. He called me, wondering if maybe I had an emergency that pulled you away. Where are you?” Her voice was filled with worried concern.
Nicholas scratched at his neck, not wanting to have this conversation right now. He felt Jason still his hand, his fingers soothing over the irritated skin. Nicholas leaned into his touch. “Away.” God, just feeling Jason touch him was
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