Chapter 10 Royal #2
“Pft,” Leticia huffs, and she blows her bangs out of her face.
“No, I hardly count for either of those things. Just now I forgot to put my hair up before opening the flour container. Luckily, I caught it before I got dirty.” Mesmerized, I watch as she puts it first into a ponytail and then into a messy bun. “And now to put you in my ears.”
“In your ears?” I joke, but I know she means her earbuds, and I long for the more crisp sound of her voice.
“There. Much better,” Leticia says before a soft yawn.
“So, what are you cooking tonight?” I force myself to turn away from the monitor and get back to work. Otherwise, I’ll be here literally all night.
“I’m doing the prep work for tomorrow morning. It’s too early to start most things, like the fresh pasta. But I get it all measured out so it’s dump and cook.” She makes a clanging noise on her end.
“What are you cooking tomorrow?” I just want to hear her voice.
But I also think Leticia is probably a fantastic cook, and maybe I can order something similar tomorrow for food and pretend like we’re eating the same thing at the same time.
For a moment, Leticia hums a little melody I haven’t heard before, but I immediately love it. “Three kinds of ravioli, two different sauces, two fresh salads, a soup, and mini panettone.”
“Oh, is that all?” I’m floored by the sizable task at hand. “Who are you, Juliette Child?”
“That’s not— You know what? Never mind.” I can imagine her waving a hand dismissively at my error. “But of course not, she didn’t care for Italian cooking anyway.”
I want to look over at her and watch her speak, but I force myself to stay turned away from the screen.
Leticia helps by continuing to explain. “But this is Mom’s big event for the season.
She throws something almost every year and acts like it’s this total surprise and then is totally last minute about it.
I guess what’s worse is I just let it happen.
I pretend it isn’t happening and then rush around on her timetable to make it all work.
She likes to go all out. Now that I’m old enough — trusted enough — to make it happen, I get the kitchen to myself. ”
“So you like cooking for everybody?” I keep wiping down the machine I’m working on, clearing the dust and debris away.
“I don’t hate it, but it would be nice if, once in a while, someone told me to take the whole day off.” She seems so sad.
I look over at the screen and find her having weighed out multiple bowls of flour and moving on to the next task, which looks like packages of meats from the refrigerator.
We can provide for our mate. My wolf shakes with delight. You will learn to cook.
I drop the rag I was wiping with and knock over a small stand of tools. Everything clatters to the ground around me.
Excuse me, our mate? We— I—
“Everything okay?” Leticia’s voice pitches with worry.
“Yeah. Yup. Mhm.” My voice is all over the place, and I put a hand over my racing heart to try and focus. I get better control over myself and answer her better. “I was clumsy and knocked over a cart of cleaning supplies.”
“Oh gosh.” I look over at the monitor. She places a hand on her heart, and we’re doing the same thing. “Had me worried there that something bad happened.”
Our mate is worried about us. My wolf uses that damn word again.
“Nah.” I brush it off and try to reassure her of our safety. “A materials cart. This location is safe. Deep in Cavanagh territory. Someone would have to be really stupid to come all the way out here. We don’t even keep inventory here.”
We haven’t even met her. We can’t be her mate. Most of the time, humans don’t have wolf mates. I try all the arguments, flimsy ones and real ones, but my heart is siding with the wolf. Before I can even stop the decline down the slippery slope, it feels like I’m already at rock bottom.
I want her.
Bad.
“What’s it like living in the country?” Leticia asks innocently and completely unaware of my brain going full meltdown mode.
“It’s nice.” I force myself to move and start cleaning up what I dropped. “I like the open spaces, it’s really good for running.”
“Mmm. I never understood running as a hobby. Kerrianne said you’re a whole family of runners. Marathons or what?” I look over at her on the screen. She’s measuring out spoonfuls of something into a plastic bowl full of meat.
“I mean, it’s more like we enjoy nature walks but fast-forward?” I leave out the ‘with four feet’ and ‘hunting’ part of the usual family activities.
“Oh, well, that could be fun. But doesn’t the running scare the furry woodland creatures?” Leticia keeps working on the screen, and her ability to multitask is clearly better than mine.
We could show her furry woodland creatures! My wolf is so excited over the idea. He starts picking out the best trails in the nature preserve.
We’re a furry woodland creature, you nitwit. I keep picking up and finally finish the wipe down I had started as I answer Leticia. “Nah, you have to be quiet about it. Most of them don’t care as long as you leave them alone.”
“Good to know,” Leticia says before she lets out a big sigh. I don’t have long to mull it over because she groans, “Ugh. Do I slice the romaine tonight or wait until tomorrow?”
“How much prep do you have left?” I look at the twenty minutes or so of work I have left to do, even though I know deep in my soul that I’ll stay up with her as late as she does.
“A lot.” Leticia sighs. “I’ve done the measuring for the pasta and the filling for one of the ravioli. I have time to do one of the fillings tomorrow because it has bacon I need to fry.” She lists off her work, and the more she talks, the more tired she sounds.
“Save the lettuce for tomorrow. It’ll be better freshly cut anyway.” I wish I was there to help her, but showing up there in the middle of the night would cause way more questions than I’d like to answer.
Just tell —
I’m not telling her that I’m her mate. She doesn’t even know you exist. I cut him off.
“Good plan.” Leticia yawns softly. “Alright, I have to prep the soup, then.”
“Let’s do it. While we do it, what do you do in your spare time? Aside from reading old appliance manuals.” I snap open one of the panel doors to check filament levels.
“Mmm . . . Well, now see, here’s the thing, you’ve caught me.
That is all I do in my spare time.” She giggles for a minute before I hear the chopping of a knife against a cutting board.
It’s fast and efficient, but I don’t turn to look.
“But I listen to audiobooks while I’m cooking and cleaning.
I’m studying to get my bachelor’s degree, but that’ll come to an end soon enough. ”
“Oh, what’s your degree in?”
I should know this about her by now. Her GPA, her teachers, her class schedule, the buildings she goes to .
. . It frustrates me not to know it. But with my workload for all the jobs I do in a day, I’m running on fumes and don’t have time for passion projects and in-depth stalking.
Just the bare-minimum surveillance kind.
It’s not stalking if it’s your mate. My wolf supplies. It’s concerned observations.
I try to shut him out of the conversation. Enough of that mate talk.
“Communications. I know it’s silly, but I knew it wouldn’t be too hard, and it was something to do so that Dad wouldn’t marry me off right after high school.” She sounds annoyed and on edge.
“Sore subject?” I probe, filling the last filament and moving on to the next machine.
“I don’t mean to dump on you.” Leticia tries to brush it off, but there’s undeniable tension there.
“It’s not dumping if I asked.”
I want to beg her to tell me. I want to tell her that communication isn’t a silly degree field and that I want to hear everything about her. Don’t scare her, Royal.
“I don’t want to be someone’s wife. I know logically that’s what I’m destined for. But part of me wonders if there isn’t something out there I could do that doesn’t involve being a made man’s wife.”
I stop what I’m doing on the second machine and sit down in my chair to watch her work. Leticia is putting one slow cooker next to another on the counter.
How much soup is she making?
“I can’t imagine what that’s like, not knowing what the course of your life will look like.”
“It’s not the same for you? You’re not just waiting to be married off at the first opportune moment for a good deal?” Leticia’s laugh is dry and humorless.
“No, our family kinda believes in soul mates.” I way overgeneralize.
Oh, so you get to talk about mates? My wolf rolls his eyes with disapproval.
“But Valor had an arranged marriage?” Leticia starts dumping what looks like homemade meatballs out of a gallon bag into each slow cooker.
“It’s a little different when your kid is on the line.” I play with the desk’s chipping fake-wood surface.
Leticia keeps working, pouring containers of liquid into the pots. “That makes a big difference. What about you though? Waiting for the one?”
Found her. My wolf pushes hard at the idea. Practically begging me to tell her.
“Yeah, something like that. You know how it is, your world is so small in this life.” I hope what I’m saying is relatable to her, despite my double meaning. “So few people get to know about what it is we do and who we are. It makes it hard to find the one among such a finite number of people.”
“Mmmmm.” Leticia is tying twigs of spices together. “And then you get all these people who want to be with you because of who your parents are and get all weird about it?”
“Yes!” I relax into my chair, happy with her understanding. I know we’re talking about completely different worlds, but at least some things — nepotism — are a universal language.
“How much work do you have left?” Leticia puts the lids on her slow cookers.
“All done.” I lie. I’ve got another ten minutes left, but she looks too tired to stay up much longer.
Leticia pulls her apron off over the top of her head and hangs it on a hook. “Are you sure? I can stay up for a little bit.”
“No, chef. I’m sure.” I throw in one last joke. “Get some sleep, you’ve had a long day.”
“Oh.” Leticia hesitates, tapping her phone screen, then drumming her fingers on the countertop.
“Well, if you want to talk some other time, you have my number. Just say the word.” I reassure her.
Anytime. All the time. My wolf agrees.
“I’ll do that.” Leticia is much more upbeat. “Good night, Royal.”
“Good night, Leticia.” I let her disconnect the call.