Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Kade
Riot is sexy, intelligent, strong, devoted, loving...
Instead of counting to ten, I list all the positive things about Riot. Over and over again, because I swear to fuck, I'm about to kick him outside for the rest of the day just so I'm not reminded about the sheer disaster he just caused in my kitchen.
We went from me peacefully teaching him how to make coffee cake to melted butter on the ceiling fan, flour beneath the dining room chairs, and coffee grounds down the first two steps to the basement.
"Kade—"
"Hold on," I grit out, knowing he didn't mean to fuck up so royally. "Just give me a second."
Footsteps bounding down the stairs force me to open my eyes just in time for the next mess to be made.
"What's happening down—FUCK!" Jarek's foot slips out from under him, sending his bucket of screws flying in every fucking direction. He should have just continued fixing the fucking fans upstairs.
"Oh shit," Silas mutters, having followed him down at a much slower pace.
His lips purse together as if he's trying to hold in his laughter. As much as I love how everyone in this house has been laughing these past four months, I'm way too overstimulated to enjoy it at the moment.
"The oven preheated, and Riot thought the beep was because something was burning.
So he rushed over to get it. He tripped, and the bowl of ground coffee in his hands went flying.
Somehow the big bowl for the batter, which had sugar and melted butter in it, went flying the opposite direction," Vivian explains, wadding up her paper towel she used to wipe some of the counter with.
Then, because why fucking not, she throws it toward the trash can I have out, and misses, hitting me in the damn eye.
I slam my eyes closed again and focus on how Vivie feels. Guilt pauses her ability to speak momentarily, but she whispers, "Sorry, Alpha."
Her selective mutism comes in waves which we believe has to do with her cycle and working through the trauma she's still struggling with. I love how much she talks to us these days. It's beautiful. I could listen to her all day long.
Latching on to Silas' amusement in the bond, a genuine smile tugs at my lips and I open my eyes.
"It's okay, baby," I tell her. Then she hops off her stool, sending my instincts immediately into overdrive.
"No! Are you trying to kill me, woman?" I growl, rushing around the island to put her back on her chair.
"What did I do?" she asks, bewildered.
I hold her head to my chest and bask in her scent. "You could slip or step on a screw. Stay while we clean up."
She huffs but gives me a big hug. When I pull away, I see Riot already hard at work cleaning up the mess.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles when I get close to him.
"Don't worry about it." I tug on the waistband of his jeans and pull him into my chest. "I'll still teach you how to cook. Let’s just keep the ingredients in the kitchen next time."
Sighing, he runs a hand through his messy black hair. The scar across his face has slowly faded to resemble his pale skin tone, but each time I look at it, I feel gratitude. Even when he didn't really know Vivian, he saved her.
So when this strong, capable man came to me a few weeks ago asking me to teach him what I know in the kitchen, I said fuck yes.
Apparently when he was alone with Vivie last month, she wanted something only I know how to make, and it broke him a bit when he couldn't even figure out how to make banana bread. Her appetite has grown a bit more each week and he felt like he wasn’t able to meet that basic need for her.
We're all growing and learning each day. Some days are messier than others, but you know what? This will make me laugh tomorrow. It's a domestic memory, and those are the ones that keep me warm on rainy days.