His pheromones curl around me, subtle but insistent, mingling with the rich scent of tomato and herbs until I can’t separate them anymore. My body responds without permission, my own scent deepening in answer, clover and flannel rising to meet his ocean air.
“I think we’re getting good at this,” Jared says, stepping back to admire our work. The lasagna sits completed between us, the perfect layers visible through the glass dish.
“We are.” I reach for the aluminum foil, tearing off a sheet to cover the dish, explaining, “The cheese gets too brown otherwise.”
He helps me crimp the edges, our hands working together along the glass rim, fingers bumping, retreating, meeting again. Each contact sends a small shock through my system, my body hyperaware of his proximity.
I open the oven, letting out a blast of heat, and slide the heavy lasagna onto the rack. “This needsto bake for forty minutes. We’ll take the foil off halfway through.”
Straightening, I wipe my hands on a kitchen towel and set the timer.
As I turn back around, Jared steps into my space, his cheeks flushed pink, not from the oven’s heat but from the current running between us. His hooded eyes meet mine, dark with unasked questions, and my breath catches in my throat.
He leans closer, his intent clear in the tilt of his head, the slight parting of his lips. He moves slowly, giving me every opportunity to step back, to break the spell winding around us.
I should move away. Every scar tissue of memory from Auren’s betrayal pulls at me to put distance between us. To protect the fragile peace I’ve built in this cottage. To remember what happens when I give pieces of myself away.
But my feet remain rooted to the floor, my body swaying toward his, drawn by the same force that pulls a compass needle home.
His lips meet mine with tentative pressure. Clumsy. Inexperienced. Sweet in a way that weakens my knees. His hands hover at my waist, not quite touching, afraid of crossing another boundary, and the restraint in his hesitation undoes me more than confidence ever could.
Heat spirals through my body, coiling outward into my limbs until my fingers tingle with it, and the intensity of my reaction terrifies me.
I jerk back, my breath ragged as I stare at him. My lips burn from the contact, and my pulse hammers in my ears.
Jared takes my hand in his, his palm engulfing my fingers, and he sets them over his chest, where his heart thunders. “Don’t be afraid.”
A tremble goes through me. “I haven’t figured out how to not be afraid.”
I’m scared of the power I’m giving him without meaning to. The way my body responds to his presence. The ease with which he’s slipped into the spaces of my life.
His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand, still held against the steady rhythm of his heart. “I won’t hurt you.”
He leans down, our lips meeting again with more purpose, and the restraint that held me back shatters. His arms encircle my waist, drawing me flush with the solid wall of his chest, and I open to him with a hunger that surprises us both.
His mouth moves over mine with more confidence this time, learning the shape of my lips and the right pressure to draw a sigh from me.When his tongue traces the seam of my lips, I answer by parting them, inviting him deeper.
We kiss hungrily, a month of tension dissolving into this moment. My hands explore the planes of his shoulders, the muscles shifting beneath my touch as he holds me tighter. His pheromones wash over me, no longer subtle but demanding in a way that leaves me dizzy.
My body responds, my own scent rising to meet his, weaving our pheromones together into a new blend that belongs only to the two of us. My pulse pounds in time with his, our hearts racing together, and for the first time in years, the Alpha in me stirs to life, answering the pull of a partner whose body chemistry matches mine.
Mixie winds around our ankles, meowing with displeasure at being ignored. Neither of us breaks the kiss to acknowledge her, too caught in the gravity of each other. My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to me as if he might vanish if I let go.
The shrill beep of the oven timer slices through the moment.
I jerk back, dazed, staring at the clock in confusion. Forty minutes couldn’t possibly have passed. The timer reads twenty minutes, set for when we need to remove the foil.
“Half-time warning,” Jared murmurs, husky with desire.
His thumb brushes across my cheek, tracing a line of heat down to the corner of my mouth, and the simple touch sends another wave of longing through me.
He purrs, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest in a pure Alpha response. The sound washes over me, primal and possessive in a way that should send me running. Instead, I lean into it, my body recognizing what my mind resists.
With a crooked grin, he murmurs, “We need to take off the foil.”
“Right.” Still dazed, I grab the oven mitts and open the oven, letting out a flood of heat.
As soon as the foil lands in the sink, and I reset the timer, Jared’s mouth finds mine again, his confidence growing with each heartbeat. This kiss holds nothing back, his tongue sliding past my lips to delve deeper.