Chapter 9
ROWAN
Iwoke to warmth wrapping around me like a cocoon, every muscle in my body humming with a sore, spent satisfaction. For one blissful moment, I didn’t move. I just floated in the soft haze between dreaming and waking.
Bexley was wrapped around me. His arms were banded tightly across my waist, one heavy leg tangled with mine, and his chest pressed firmly against my back. It felt so natural to wake up in his embrace.
The fire had burned down to nothing but cold ash, but I didn’t need it. Not with the furnace of a man holding me like I was something he’d waited a lifetime for. And from everything he’d told me yesterday, he actually had.
A soft glow filled the room, and when I blinked my eyes open, I realized the lamp next to the couch was on. The power must’ve come back sometime in the middle of the night, but we hadn’t noticed.
Heat rushed to my cheeks as memories played in my head.
Bexley’s mouth on my throat. The way he’d whispered “mine” against my skin.
How many times we’d lost ourselves in each other until exhaustion finally dragged us under.
Drifting awake in the middle of the night to find his hand tracing lazy circles on my hip, his lips brushing my shoulder like he couldn’t stop touching me even in sleep.
My whole body flushed, and I carefully twisted my head just enough to look at him over my shoulder.
Bexley looked unfairly gorgeous in the morning. Thick stubble shadowed his jaw, and his hair was a rumpled mess from my hands tugging on it each time he gave me an orgasm with his mouth.
As though he felt me staring, Bexley stirred. His arm tightened around me, pulling my back flush against his broad chest. His nose brushed the curve of my neck, and in a sleep-rough rumble that went straight through me, he murmured, “Morning, baby.”
A seductive shiver raced down my spine, and a shy smile tugged at my lips. “Good morning.”
He nuzzled my neck once more before his voice vibrated against my skin. “Sleep okay?”
I let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Once I finally passed out from all the orgasms, sure.”
His response was a wicked, satisfied smirk I could feel even without seeing.
Heat blossomed in my belly, and my heart raced as I realized how quickly I was falling for him.
Bexley pushed onto one elbow, and the way his gaze swept slowly down my body made my blush come roaring back. I tugged the blanket a little higher, which only made the corner of his mouth tilt like he knew exactly what effect he had on me.
He grabbed his T-shirt from where it had landed last night and pulled it over his head. Then he did the same with his sweatpants, forgoing his boxer briefs. Once he was dressed, he reached behind him and picked up a folded flannel shirt I didn’t remember seeing yesterday.
“Here,” he murmured, handing it to me. “Grabbed it from my truck when I noticed you were cold last night.”
I held the soft fabric against my chest for a second before slipping it on. It dwarfed me completely, the hem hanging to my mid-thighs. His scent clung to the cotton, and it felt like being wrapped in him. “Thank you.”
Bexley brushed a kiss against my forehead in a gesture so sweet that I almost cried, then he pushed to his feet. He padded across the cottage with a quiet confidence, moving like he already belonged here. And maybe he did.
He crouched at the fireplace first, stacking wood and coaxing new flames to life.
Then I followed him into the kitchen, where he checked the stove, turning knobs and muttering under his breath about pilot lights.
Finally, he looked out the window, assessing the snowfall with a slight narrowing of his eyes.
Watching him was its own kind of warmth. My heart felt too big for my chest, so full I didn’t know what to do with it.
“You hungry?” he asked without looking back.
“Do you even have to ask after all the calories we burned yesterday?”
He rewarded my teasing with a deep, satisfied rumble as he rummaged in the pantry. After grabbing some supplies, he set a bowl on the counter and began mixing flour, baking powder, sugar, salt, and spices. Then he added oil, water, and vanilla.
“You’re making pancakes?” I asked, incredulous when I realized what he was doing.
“Yep.”
My brows drew together. “But you don’t have milk or eggs.”
He shot me a half grin over his shoulder. “You gotta trust me.”
I was surprised to realize how easily trust came to me with him, when I was so wary of other people. I could only assume it was because of the whole fated mate thing.
He flipped the first batter round into a hot pan, and the smell of food made my mouth water. Then he slid a plate toward me with golden, slightly crisp pancakes that looked far better than anything that should’ve been possible with the sad contents of my grandmother’s pantry. Or mine, now.
I took one bite and groaned. “How? These are incredible.”
He shrugged, but his smugness was unmistakable. “I have skills you haven’t seen yet.”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “Pretty sure I saw a lot of your best moves up close and personal last night.”
Bexley froze for half a heartbeat, his eyes going dark and molten. There was a delicious growl in his voice as he murmured, “Those were just the warm-up, baby.”
All I could do was shove another bite of pancake into my mouth so I didn’t whimper out loud.
The morning quiet had just settled into something warm and lazy when a strange mechanical buzzing drifted through the window. I paused mid-bite and frowned. “What is that?”
“Sounds like a snowmobile.”
Bexley followed me as I stood and moved toward the window, where he was proven right.
A snowmobile crested the last bend of the long driveway and glided to a noisy stop beside the porch.
A man bundled in a heavy ski jacket with goggles pushed onto his forehead hopped off and trudged through the snow toward the front door.
“Oh!” I breathed. “I bet that’s my real estate agent. We were supposed to meet today, but with the storm, I didn’t think he’d make it.”
A low growl vibrated at my back. “Forest.”
“Yeah, that’s his name.” I gave him a look over my shoulder. “You have me in such a daze, I couldn’t remember it for a second.”
He turned me around and claimed my mouth in a deep kiss that left me breathless when he finally lifted his head. It took me a moment to realize the pounding I heard was Forest knocking on the door and not my heart.
Bexley told me to put on a pair of pants. I tugged a pair of leggings on, and he was already halfway through the living room before I hurried to catch up with him. He flung open the door just as Forest was about to knock again.
Forest’s eyes widened as Bexley filled the doorway. “Hey, Bex.”
“Forest.” The single word sounded a whole lot more like a warning than a greeting.
Forest lifted both hands slowly in a gesture of surrender.
I blinked between them. “Wait. Is he…?”
“Wolf,” Forest confirmed, darting another look at Bexley. “Not mated. Which means your polar bear here is fully justified in wanting to rip my throat out for breathing too close to his mate.”
He took several very deliberate steps backward.
Bexley growled.
“Yep. That tracks.” Forest swallowed. “Shoulda realized what was going on from the moment I smelled polar out here.”
Possessive energy practically snapped in the air around us.
Forest pointed awkwardly at the snowmobile. “Leaving this in case you need it. Human mate and all that.”
Another growl rumbled up Bexley’s chest.
I didn’t know what the issue was, but it must’ve been obvious to another shifter. Forest didn’t seem even a little confused.
“You don’t need to worry about me stripping and shifting right here.” Forest snorted. “I’m not suicidal. I’ll jog far out of view before I drop my clothes.”
“Good,” Bexley grunted.
Forest’s eyes flicked toward me, mischief sparkling in his eyes, and he added, “You’re in very good hands, by the way. Strong ones. And huge.”
Bexley’s growl was murderous. I slammed a hand against his arm before he could launch himself out the door.
“Bye!” Forest called, sprinting away from the house across the snow.
I shut the door quickly and whirled on the giant polar shifter vibrating next to me. “You can’t growl at everyone who talks to me!”
Bexley crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Seems like it worked just fine.”
I gawked at him. He stared back, not even slightly sorry.
And as wrong as it was, I melted anyway.