Page 72 of Seducing Sasquatch

Scratching the back of his neck, Blake hums. “Okay, Daddy.”

“Set the table.” I give my boy something to focus on. I can tell he’s been trying to do that all day. Keep his mind busy so his emotions don’t eat him alive. But that’s why I’m here. When he does break, I’ll be the one to put him back together again. Maybe not with gold like the Japanese dish, but with love.

Blake busies himself setting plates and glasses on the table. He digs through the cutlery drawer, searching for matching knives and forks, when he stops. His eyes wander to the stove, his brain ticking.

I watch with amusement as my boy figures out the cutlery we need for dinner. This is a task most children go through but with the way he’s been brought up, now is better than never.

Blake puts away the knives and forks and opts for two soup spoons. He then places them next to the plates and pauses once more.

A faint blush rises to his cheeks, but I pretend to not notice as he replaces the plates with bowls.

“Anything else?” he asks.

I nod. “Put some bread in the toaster.”

I add the meat to the stew along with some herbs and spices. The aroma of our dinner fills the cabin and for the first time in my life, I have a strange sense of deja vu. Blake and I working together in the kitchen, making our dinner as the sun begins to dip behind the mountains.

I pick at the fur on my thigh. I’ve never experienced this before, sharing my space with my mate like this. As if my entire life has become completely domesticated. But I love it. Maybe the feeling isn’t deja vu but something else… Maybe it’s feeling utterly content.

The toaster pops, and Blake puts five slices of toast on a plate. “I thought you’d want at least four slices.” He grins.

I chuckle, “You know me so well.”

Stirring the stew with the meat browning nicely, I turn the burner off and carry the pot to the table, setting it down on a place mat.

“Looks good!” Blake watches me expectantly as I dish up his stew, handing him the steaming bowl.

“Careful, it’s hot,” I remind him.

We eat in comfortable silence. Snow begins to drift against the windows as another storm rolls in, covering the sunset and shutting us into our little world within these cabin walls. Blake is hardly awake by the time I finish the dishes, so I carry him to my—our—bed and tuck him in.

Curling up beside him, I listen to his heartbeat, my fingers stroking his temple. This is our life now, and it’s only just the beginning.

CHAPTER 22

BLAKE

The cars pull up beside me, each client climbing from their backseats dressed to the nines. With feather boleros or pinstripe tailored suits, each barely looks my way. I extend my hand, “Welcome to⁠—”

They walk past me. I sigh. This is useless. My father had told me to stand out front and welcome our guests. Not that he actually cared what I did, just that he wanted me gone from his side. The wind whips at the pavement, tossing a few pink blossoms over my polished boots.

Above me, storm clouds roll in, and I shiver. I should have worn another layer. It’s only September, but the temperature in Montana is much colder than I expected. We’d just flown in from a convention in Cuba where the weather was pleasant, and the food was better than I’d ever had before.

But now that I’m back in my home country, all I want to do is go home. But I can’t. Because tonight is the annual charity gala my father hosts.

Another car pulls up, but I don’t pay them much attention. Instead, I look over my shoulder at the clouds rolling in. The ornamental cherry trees shiver as another gust sweeps through and a bird darts across the sky. Clearly, it’s looking for somewhere safe to go.

I’ve always been jealous of birds. They seem so free to fly anywhere they want without someone asking them where they’re going or ordering them back to the nest.

I sigh, “Maybe in my next life I’ll become a bird.”

I blink away the tears that have formed in my sleep. The smell of the cabin surrounds me, but through the thick scent of pine, Arden’s smell is also there. Rich forest with a hint of musk.

His body presses against my back, a thick arm pulled around my waist, securing me tightly to his chest.

“Good morning, baby.” Arden’s husky voice sends a shiver down my spine.

I turn in his arms, my hands running up his bulging pecs. “How did you know I was awake?”