No one to make breakfast out of the dismal wasteland of his abandoned fridge.
“There we go. Just like…..that,” Carmen murmured as she prodded the eggs. She lifted them as she tilted the pan, and a triumphant smile curved her lips. “This is going to be the perfect omelet.”
It had been a depressingly long time since he’d had a home-cooked breakfast, perfect or not. “Even though you made it with salsa?”
“Are you kidding? I make them with salsa all the time. It’s already seasoned, and it beats the hell out of chopping a bunch of tomatoes.” She folded the omelet and slid it onto a plate, then added a few slices of bacon and a fork. “Here. Eat.”
“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” Not that he had any intention of disobeying. It smelled damn good, and he was always hungry.
She laughed and cracked another egg. “I’m assertive. You’re bossy.”
“Yeah, women always have a different word for everything. You remind and we nag.”
“Hmm, you must have me confused with someone else. I definitely nag.”
He might even put up with it from her. “Good to know.”
She eyed his untouched plate. “If you want to do something, you could make coffee. I couldn’t find it.”
“Because I’m probably out again.” But he rose and circled the counter, easing past her without touching her, as tempting as it was to rub against her back.
This time, she didn’t lean into him, and she didn’t pull away. “I could have asked Julio to bring some.”
“I’ll add it to the grocery list.” He dragged open the cupboard and dug around, past enough canned soup to make him wonder where it had all come from, and finally found a shiny, vacuum-packed block. “Here, this is coffee…..I think.”
She whistled. “Your tastes are a little more expensive than mine.”
Alec laughed and headed for the coffee pot. “Not my taste. Nicole Peyton. She likes to buy everyone Christmas presents.”
“Right, you hang out with the Alpha’s daughter.”
His arm brushed hers as he reached for the filters, and he tensed, waiting for her reaction. But she only straightened his sleeve carefully and handed him the package of filters.
A sweet gesture. A tiny intimacy.
He wanted to tear off her clothes and bend her over the counter.
Jesus Christ, get your head in the game. She was an empath. A magic-riddled empath who would let him bend her over the counter if he wanted it badly enough, regardless of her own desires.
He couldn’t drag in a deep breath, not with her standing there smelling sweeter than sunshine, but he managed a shallow one and a gruff “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
An engine rumbled outside, unfamiliar and well tuned, and tension shot through him before he remembered that her brother was returning for breakfast. “Think your brother’s back.”
She exhaled shakily. “He’s got great timing, as usual.”
More than one way to interpret that. Alec chose the innocent one. “Always shows up when there’s food around?”
“Something like that.” Carmen ran her hands through her hair, leaving it even more tousled than before. “I’m not looking forward to this.”
Neither was he. He wanted to tell her to put another shirt on—one that covered all that gorgeous damn skin—but it felt too much like admitting he couldn’t control his own reactions. “I’ll deal with your brother. You’re okay, honey.”
“Quit babying me. I’m not going to fall apart.” She grabbed a dishtowel and swatted him lightly.
Catching the towel was instinct. Jerking it hard enough to send her stumbling against him was outright insanity. “Maybe I’m going to fall apart,” he murmured. “Be nice.”
Something dark and hungry flashed in her eyes. “You’re impossible.” Not exasperated condemnation, but a soft, almost wondering confusion.
A car door slammed outside, and Alec cursed life and fate and the wolf who’d be bounding up the steps any second. Curling both hands around Carmen’s shoulders, he leaned down and kissed her forehead softly. A gentle, soothing touch, and all he’d allow himself before he stepped back. “I’ll answer the door.”
The mental and emotional whiplash was going to kill her.
Carmen hurriedly finished cooking the second omelet and started a third, using the rote task to focus her mind. Her skin still tingled where Alec had touched her, and she whispered a few blistering curses.
“That bad, huh?”
Julio. Something inside her eased, a tiny part of her that had been convinced her brothers had been under attack, as well. “You have no idea.”
He stepped away from the door and met her halfway across the kitchen with open arms and a sigh of relief. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Gives me something to do.” Even as she pulled free of his hug, she was looking him over, making sure he was unhurt. “Are you all right?”
“Only you would ask me something like that at a time like this, Carmen.”
“I’m taking care of her.” Alec sounded a little defensive.
Julio didn’t react visibly, but Carmen felt the spike of disappointed anger that lurked behind his smile. “Yeah, I know.”
She probably smelled like Alec, and Julio’s first ridiculous assumption would be that she’d been taken advantage of. “Sit down, Julio. I made you an omelet.”
“Carmen—”
“Sit.” She moved without thinking, putting herself between her brother and Alec.
He didn’t argue further, probably because he was afraid she’d take the plate away. “You got the stuff I left, I guess.”
“Yes, thank you.” She bumped into Alec, and she had to stop herself from twining her fingers with his. Further proof she’d gone insane—he’d spent the last twelve hours confusing the hell out of her, and she still wanted to hold his hand.
Alec shifted his weight, and his fingertips brushed her lower back in a barely-there touch as he addressed Julio. “Did you find anything out about what they did to her? Or the witch who did it?”
Julio eyed them and shook his head. “There’s a little problem. Uncle Cesar doesn’t know anything about it.”
Alec didn’t ask if he was sure, just bit off a curse and fisted his hand against her back for a brief moment. “What about your father?”
“I think you missed the memo. Our dad doesn’t shit without permission.”
“You sure?”
Julio shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth and chewed. “I’ll keep working on it.” He arched one eyebrow. “How’re things going here?”
“Fine,” Carmen answered. Standing two inches away from Alec wasn’t going to ease the tension in the room, so she walked to the counter and busied herself with starting the coffee.
As it turned out, nothing would ease the tension. They ate breakfast in near silence, with Carmen trying unsuccessfully to lure Alec and Julio into conversation. Instead, they stared each other down, her brother versus the man who’d touched her like a lover.
She wanted to hit them both.
When Julio had gone, Carmen dressed and tried to settle in to read a book Lily had packed for her. It turned out to be a Regency romance with a tall, dark hero the author described as stern and commanding, and the only thing Carmen could say was that at least the effort it took not to picture Alec in the scenes kept her occupied.
She set it aside before the hero got na**d, just in case.
Sitting in the guest room wasn’t an option, so she wandered into the living room just before lunch. She found Alec stretched out on the couch, his bare feet propped up on the coffee table. He held a banged-up legal pad in one hand and a pen in the other.
He looked up as soon as she cleared the hallway and smiled. “Feeling okay, still?”
Her heart skipped, and she had to admit the dashing Regency-hero fantasy might have been safer than actually being near Alec. “Yeah, sure. I feel good.”
“Wanna sit?” He nodded to the oversized chair across the table from him. “Kinda boring out here, I guess. Don’t watch a lot of TV and I don’t have internet.”
She sank into the chair. “So what do you do when you have downtime?”
For a second, he almost looked uncomfortable. “Uh, doesn’t happen that much.”
From some of the things she’d heard, he probably spent more nights in women’s beds than he did at home, alone. “It’s good to stay busy.”
His eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh.”
Nervousness clashed with the urge to flirt, and she laughed, unable to help herself. “I think we should change the subject.”
He snorted and looked away. “I can only imagine the stories they tell about me.”
“Franklin mostly talks about the old days, when you served together.”
“Long time ago.” He tossed the legal pad aside. “Joining the army isn’t the smartest way for a shapeshifter to run away from home, but you’d be surprised how many of us seem to do it.”
“My brother almost did. Julio?”
“Not surprised. He had more reason than most.”
“Maybe.” Instead, he’d dropped out of college and run off to Charleston to become a firefighter. “We all run away from home somehow.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Alec stretched, straining the fabric of his T-shirt as the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders flexed. “So how’d you run away?”
It took effort, but she managed to quell her shudder of arousal. “Uh, I said ‘thanks, but no thanks’ to the nice young shapeshifter they’d picked out for me, and I moved to Nashville. Medical school.”
“Good for you.” He sounded like he meant it. “Maybe if enough of us keep doing that, the old guard will die out in a few generations.”
“I doubt it. There are some who say yes, right? Enough to keep it going.”