Read Online Wolf on Board (Wolves of Willow Bend Book 14) by Heather Long - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Heather Long
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just finished making food, now I’m planning to eat it. Later, you’re going to explain to me this stalking fetish you’ve developed where I am concerned. We’ll do all of that with you here and safely out of sight while Mitch investigates the wolf in town.”
The straightforward answer let all the air out of his half-formed indignation. “You’re keeping me busy?”
“Yes,” she said, not quite smiling, although a glint of humor showed in her eyes. “Don’t worry, surfer boy. I’ll protect you from the big, bad world.”
Not entirely certain whether to be insulted or pleased, he reached for his plate and muttered, “Yes, I’d like another beer.”
Her soft laughter swiped at him. Scowling at her, he wanted to refuse the beer on principle, but his stomach growled in anticipation of the food she’d taken the time to fix—for him.
Pride or hunger?
Yeah, he’d never worried much about pride before. Why start now?
P oor wolf boy didn’t know what to make of her. Mimi shouldn’t toy with him. In fact, if either of her parents had been there, she wouldn’t be able to get away with the not so subtle taunts. That said, she’d been completely honest with him and wouldn’t take so much glee in tormenting him if he had bothered to put his shirt back on. As it was, she kept the bar between them and set his plate in front of him so he would sit on a stool.
They said little as they both dug into their food. His low sigh of appreciation sent warmth curling through her. When he was halfway through his steak, he pointed his fork at her. “You’re an amazing fucking cook. Best meal I’ve had in a while.”
“You live out of your van.” It came out way more critical than she’d intended. Raising a hand, she spread her fingers asking him both for patience and to understand she hadn’t meant to attack him. “I apologize. What I meant is that you live out of your van, so you probably don’t get a lot of home cooked meals.”
“True, but I wasn’t born in a van.” He gave her an easy smile, and reached for his beer. His muscles flexed with every movement and it took discipline to keep her gaze on his face and not on his pecs. “My mom’s an exceptional cook, or at least I always thought she was. You’re better. What did you do to the steaks?”
“It’s Dr. Pepper and A-1 steak sauce with a little orange zest.” It was a personal favorite of hers. “Usually I marinate it, but I didn’t have time, so I basted them while I flipped the steaks.”
“Huh.” He stared at his food. “And the vegetable skewers? Did you use the same stuff?”
The citrus would have been too acidic on the mushrooms, so she shook her head and frowned. “Of course not, I used some balsamic vinegar with a garlic base. I wanted to enhance the flavor, not bury it.”
“Huh,” he repeated his earlier sentiment. The grunt didn’t tell her much but when he dug back into the food, she found herself studying his expressions. His scent hadn’t changed. If anything, she could drown in the warmth of his masculinity. It overpowered the simple nature of the food she’d prepared.
“I’ve been taking some cooking classes. I have a lemon pound cake in the fridge.” Why volunteer that information? “I actually spent time this morning at a cupcake seminar.”
Jake choked then put a hand over his mouth, asking around his food, “A what?”
Someday, she might learn how to not offer unnecessary information. “A cupcake seminar. Several hours of creating the perfect cupcakes. I’m a decent cook, and I really enjoy it. On the other hand, baking was never my forte. My mom used to make the best cakes in the world, but she couldn’t manage bread. One of my goals for this year is to achieve mastery in baking, cooking, and more. Maybe I can open a café or a restaurant at home. You know, a diner where families can enjoy all kinds of treats.” And I can shut the hell up now… The words spilled out of her, and she had no idea
The straightforward answer let all the air out of his half-formed indignation. “You’re keeping me busy?”
“Yes,” she said, not quite smiling, although a glint of humor showed in her eyes. “Don’t worry, surfer boy. I’ll protect you from the big, bad world.”
Not entirely certain whether to be insulted or pleased, he reached for his plate and muttered, “Yes, I’d like another beer.”
Her soft laughter swiped at him. Scowling at her, he wanted to refuse the beer on principle, but his stomach growled in anticipation of the food she’d taken the time to fix—for him.
Pride or hunger?
Yeah, he’d never worried much about pride before. Why start now?
P oor wolf boy didn’t know what to make of her. Mimi shouldn’t toy with him. In fact, if either of her parents had been there, she wouldn’t be able to get away with the not so subtle taunts. That said, she’d been completely honest with him and wouldn’t take so much glee in tormenting him if he had bothered to put his shirt back on. As it was, she kept the bar between them and set his plate in front of him so he would sit on a stool.
They said little as they both dug into their food. His low sigh of appreciation sent warmth curling through her. When he was halfway through his steak, he pointed his fork at her. “You’re an amazing fucking cook. Best meal I’ve had in a while.”
“You live out of your van.” It came out way more critical than she’d intended. Raising a hand, she spread her fingers asking him both for patience and to understand she hadn’t meant to attack him. “I apologize. What I meant is that you live out of your van, so you probably don’t get a lot of home cooked meals.”
“True, but I wasn’t born in a van.” He gave her an easy smile, and reached for his beer. His muscles flexed with every movement and it took discipline to keep her gaze on his face and not on his pecs. “My mom’s an exceptional cook, or at least I always thought she was. You’re better. What did you do to the steaks?”
“It’s Dr. Pepper and A-1 steak sauce with a little orange zest.” It was a personal favorite of hers. “Usually I marinate it, but I didn’t have time, so I basted them while I flipped the steaks.”
“Huh.” He stared at his food. “And the vegetable skewers? Did you use the same stuff?”
The citrus would have been too acidic on the mushrooms, so she shook her head and frowned. “Of course not, I used some balsamic vinegar with a garlic base. I wanted to enhance the flavor, not bury it.”
“Huh,” he repeated his earlier sentiment. The grunt didn’t tell her much but when he dug back into the food, she found herself studying his expressions. His scent hadn’t changed. If anything, she could drown in the warmth of his masculinity. It overpowered the simple nature of the food she’d prepared.
“I’ve been taking some cooking classes. I have a lemon pound cake in the fridge.” Why volunteer that information? “I actually spent time this morning at a cupcake seminar.”
Jake choked then put a hand over his mouth, asking around his food, “A what?”
Someday, she might learn how to not offer unnecessary information. “A cupcake seminar. Several hours of creating the perfect cupcakes. I’m a decent cook, and I really enjoy it. On the other hand, baking was never my forte. My mom used to make the best cakes in the world, but she couldn’t manage bread. One of my goals for this year is to achieve mastery in baking, cooking, and more. Maybe I can open a café or a restaurant at home. You know, a diner where families can enjoy all kinds of treats.” And I can shut the hell up now… The words spilled out of her, and she had no idea
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