Chapter 10
Jessie
Once the extra food was delivered to the other houses, raising interest in what we were having, Nessa and Austin started collaborating on a meal that would take much too long for my level of hungry.
“Seriously, I can’t wait,” I said, holding my growling stomach. “Lasagna takes a long time, especially with Austin making pasta from scratch, and I am starving.”
“Excuse me!” Nessa gave me a hoity expression. “I will also make pasta from scratch. You could’ve picked another dish to be your favorite since there is no way this is it.”
Austin smirked at me. “This is Jess trying to be fair to our competition while also knowing we can make large batches and feed others.”
“How is she being fair?” Sebastian asked.
“Because she thinks lasagna is fine,” Austin said.
“She neither loves nor hates it. For that reason, I’ve never made it for her.
Tristan, before you help Fred, can you run down and ask Mr. Tom to make us some sandwiches to tide us over?
He’ll be all too pleased. Also, tell him that we’re making enough lasagna to act as a side for dinner tonight.
I’ll get some steaks and tri-tip marinating, but if he could start working on some salads and prime some potatoes and things like that, that would greatly help. ”
I smiled at Austin. “See? Now this is perfect. He gets to help without being a nuisance, you guys get your challenge, everyone gets to participate in the voting, and we get lunch rather than all passing out waiting for your perfection to manifest into cheesy goodness.”
“Voila!” Fred said without looking up, and kissed the tips of her fingers.
“Nessa, you can use that oven.” Austin pointed at it. “It won’t fit all four of our lasagnas. That’s what we’re doing, right? Two each?”
“Yep,” she replied.
“Feel free to set the temperature. I’ll use the oven in one of the other houses.”
“Cool.” Nessa stepped back from her carefully organized ingredients for a moment. “Let’s do this.”
After Tristan had delivered the message to Mr. Tom, Fred said, “Tristan, you’re tall. C’mere and help me.” She grabbed the satellite portion of the setup and motioned him toward the front door.
Sebastian moved seats so that he could face the kitchen, and we settled in to watch them work.
Tristan
“That’ll do, thanks.” Fred gave Tristan a thumbs up while looking at the satellite, a mostly flat, rectangular device they’d attached to a long pole. He’d had to work that pole into the hard packed earth, driving it down deep enough that any wind that kicked up wouldn’t knock it down.
They’d only need it for a short while. They couldn’t stay here long—they still had to get to the Nikken cairn to meet that new leader.
Then Austin had a few smaller but influential packs he wanted to hit before he tackled one of the larger, prestigious, long-established packs whose alpha dominated the collective brain of the shifters.
That alpha likely wouldn’t agree to work under Austin’s tutelage, but that meeting and the probable standoff between the two would go a long way to showcase Austin’s power and organization.
It was necessary to finally put the rumors to rest.
It was time for Austin Steele to flex, and Tristan could not wait to see the reactions he got, or for them to pick on Jessie. She would rock their world.
Tristan nodded and held out his hand for his shirt. Mr. Tom should’ve been here with sandwiches by now. He was starving.
“Oh. Yeah.” Fred handed over the garment, sparing a quick glance at his torso. “I’d be really afraid to meet you in a dark alley.”
He grinned. “For many reasons.”
She formed a duckbill with her mouth, nodding, as she looked at the sky. “I hope we don’t have a hurricane or a tornado or whatever passes for terrible weather in this part of the world.”
“For many reasons,” he repeated, turning for the backdoor.
Sebastian jumped up when Tristan entered the kitchen. “Here, you can have my seat.”
“No, it’s fine, I’ll—“
“You’ll want to watch her at work.” Sebastian dragged another of the chairs away toward the wall and sat down. “Besides, maybe showing off for you will give her an edge.”
Natasha glanced at him in annoyance, saw Tristan, and did a double take, freezing with her knife poised over a half-chopped onion.
Her gaze roamed his gleaming chest, slick with sweat, and her energy spiked.
Frenzied pulses of light danced between them, reaching for him as desire filled her eyes, daring him to come closer. Daring herself to will it.
“Or maybe I’ll be a distraction,” he said with a smirk. Dropping his shirt onto the table, he headed for the bathroom. “I’ll just clean up and allow you to get back to it, shall I, little angel?”
She jerked as though slapped, and now her energy turned tumultuous, churning and rolling.
It washed across him, thick and heady. Needy, almost. She liked the teasing, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
He remembered that she’d liked being manhandled by him, as well, relinquishing control and delighting in his dominance.
It hadn’t been the right time to explore it.
It still wasn’t. She was edging closer to the cliff, taunting herself with the games, daring herself to give in, but she wasn’t quite ready to jump.
She still feared no one would be there to catch her.
He didn’t mind waiting. The fun was in the chase.
He winked at her before he was out of sight. Her scowl made him laugh.
After cleaning up, he passed through the hall in time to see Mr. Tom come through the door carrying a large brown paper bag.
“Need help?” Tristan asked, putting a hand on the doorframe.
Mr. Tom eyed him. “With what, getting dressed?” He didn’t wait for an answer, hurrying toward Jessie and leaving Tristan to close the door.
“And here we are,” Mr. Tom said as he stopped at the table.
“I apologize for the delay, miss, but half the food you bought was already eaten by the time I got Austin Steele’s message, and I had to send Ulric to the store to get more lunchmeat.
You’d think we hadn’t fed any of those people in the last year.
Well, anyway, I made you plenty to tide you over while the culinary contest drags on. ”
He threaded between Austin and Natasha to grab some plates.
“Thank you, Mr. Tom,” Jessie gushed, reaching into the bag to grab one of the brown wrapped bundles.
“Now, miss, you don’t know which one that is.” Mr. Tom pulled the sandwich away from her. “This is ham.” He set it down before looking into the bag. “I also have oven roasted turkey, salami—“
Jessie grabbed the sandwich again and tore into it. “I don’t care what it is as long as it is edible.”
“And that is what you get for entertaining these silly cook-offs when I am perfectly capable of managing.”
Mr. Tom pulled out two other sandwiches and Tristan put out his hand for one.
“Which would you like,” Mr. Tom said, looking at the one in his right hand. “This is—“
“I don’t care.” Tristan reached a little closer.
Mr. Tom sniffed before shoving both toward him. “One wonders why I put all my blood, sweat and tears into making these edible delights, only to have you inhale them without tasting a thing.”
“If it tastes like blood, sweat and tears, that’s probably for the best,” Sebastian mumbled, taking the sandwich Tristan handed over.
“Alpha?” Tristan asked.
“Two,” he answered.
Tristan grinned and delivered two sandwiches.
“Lovely Natasha?” He paused behind her and was rewarded with her little shiver and her energy blanketing him in swirling desire.
“A little more space, and an amazing edible delight in the form of a salami sandwich.”
“You want salami between your buns?” he teased, not moving. Her energy throbbed and she lightly swayed, her back nearly touching him, before regaining herself.
“Yes, hilarious, I’m sure all of our sides are splitting.” Mr. Tom stepped around Tristan and deposited a sandwich on the counter. “Thank goodness I don’t have to deal with terrible jokes when I am in the kitchen.”
“You are a terrible joke,” Sebastian blurted, and then flinched. “Sorry, Niamh’s been in my head a lot lately, and that’s the sort of thing she would’ve said.”
“Very amusing,” Mr. Tom replied, and it was clear that it was not. He pulled glasses from the cabinet and the lemonade and iced tea from the fridge. “I’ll just leave these sandwiches here and go work on the salads and side dishes for tonight. Call me if you need anything, miss.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tom.” Jessie gave him a grateful smile. “This sandwich is amazing.”
“Of course it is.” He poured her iced tea before heading for the door. “I don’t have to waste time competing in order to feed people.”
“Why is Niamh in your head a lot lately?” Tristan asked as he took a seat at the table and unwrapped his sandwich.
“This situation is reminding me of our efforts outside of Kingsley’s territory and how often she yelled at me.”
Tristan put his fist in front of his mouth as he laughed. “She was playing a part more than actually yelling at you.”
“She was doing both,” he grumbled, slouching in his chair, and Tristan laughed harder.
Natasha dropped the diced onions into a hot pan.
Steam curled up and kissed her beautiful face.
She flicked her wrist in a practiced movement, sending the onions folding over each other again and again.
Her breasts pushed against her tight white top, jiggling as she worked.
She set the pan down to let them cook before twisting out of Austin’s way and over to her carefully organized cheese section.
“This for me?” She looked at Austin and lightly touched the edge of a glossy yellow bowl.
Tristan wanted her to look at him, instead. He wanted her focus and to lose himself in those sparkling greenish-hazel eyes. To watch her cook something in nothing but an apron or maybe a G-string.
“Yeah. I have one over there.” Austin jerked his head at the edge of the counter he was working on.