I laughed. It was an intimate, often erotic thing for shifters to feed their mates, a sort of throwback to their primal need to look after loved ones. I didn’t share the same primal excitement, but I loved the way Austin responded to it, to me.
He sprinkled the pie with salt and pepper and a couple other spices before heading for the door.
He stopped, though, noticing Mac standing not far away, holding his uncooked pizza, watching us.
“What’s up?” Austin asked, glancing at his nephew’s creation. “Do you need help?”
“No. I’m picking up tips on how to woo girls. This is legendary.”
Austin started forward again. “I never did any of this with—” He side-eyed me. “Before Jess.”
“Nice recovery,” I joked.
“But I can see how it would be a good party trick. Wear a stupid apron—”
“Check,” I said.
“Toss the pizza dough—”
“Preferably with shirt sleeves rolled up, exposing muscular forearms,” I added.
“Okay, back up,” Austin said. “Next, Mac, get muscular forearms.”
“Har, har,” Mac said as we stepped outside. “That’s about the only thing I’ve got going for me—
my physique. I have the body of an alpha but not the drive for it.”
“There could be worse things.” Austin handed our creation to Kingsley, who used his fancy pizza peel to move his cooking pizza over and slide ours into the oven.
“You know Auntie Jessie really well, though—”
“Aww, cute.” I smiled brightly at him. “You’re calling me Auntie Jessie!”
Mac paused for a moment, not sure what to make of that apparently, and continued. “What about if I’m going for a girl I don’t know that well?”
“What are we talking about?” Kingsley asked, suddenly gruff. “What girl?”
“You just watch her body language,” Austin said, moving out of the way so Mac could give his pizza to Kingsley. “You stop by things, or suggest things, or randomly talk about things you might do, like fancy versus laid-back—”
“Cheating!” I smacked Austin’s arm. “Very suave.”
Austin laughed. “Just pay attention to her signs. She’ll tell you what she wants, even if she doesn’t voice it.”
We continued talking about idle nothings while the pizza cooked. Once it was ready, Austin sat us away from the others and placed our food down in front of us. One of his hands slid up my shoulder and around the back of my neck, pulling me closer so he could taste my lips. A moment later, he lifted a slice, watching as I pulled a pepperoni from his offering and popped it into my mouth.
“It was a rough start to the night, but I like the direction it’s going,” Austin murmured, his eyes hooded and his body hard.
“I didn’t set up any fondue for afterward,” I said after I finished the bite. I’d done that recently after a date I took him on. The chocolate fondue had been an erotic treat, though soon forgotten as we explored each other’s bodies.
He smiled as he fed me a bite of pizza, and then accepted one from a slice I held up for him, realizing too late what he’d been offered.
“No! You didn’t!” He pulled away from me, laughing and then making a face. “I can feel the olives in there. How dare you!” The last was said to mimic Mr. Tom’s new favorite phrase.
Mr. Tom’s eerie voice rose from the darkness. “If that was intended to mock me, I can assure you, I am not wounded.”
“Feel the olives?” I took a bite of the slice I’d grabbed for him. “Hmm! I don’t know about feel, but they sure are delicious.”
“They have a weird consistency.”
“You have a weird consistency.” I stuck my tongue out at him and laughed again.
We finished that pizza and went back to make more, Austin teaching me how to catch and throw the dough and laughing at how bad I was at even the simplest things in food preparation.
“If it hadn’t been a chore for you, if you’d had passion to learn, you might’ve picked it up a bit better,” he told me, taking over the sauce application.
“Maybe you can teach me?” I sprinkled on the same cheeses he’d used on our first-round pizza.
“I’m sure you can make it fun if anyone can.”
“I’d love to,” he said softly.
We ate our fill and then went back into the kitchen area, where we took seats at the island and drank wine while Austin and I told stories of the Ivy House crew’s crazy antics. Dessert was served, a raspberry tart, and the evening ended with small or half-smiles from most of the shifters, a gleaming smile and hug from Mac, and an overall feeling of goodwill.
“My mother has no idea what to make of you,” Austin said as we drove home in the Taurus.
“She was certainly staring a good bit. But she didn’t belittle me, unlike a past mother-in-law, so I’m cool with that. At least we can be civil.”
“It’s not a like or dislike situation. It’s…” He tried turning the radio down, but the knob didn’t seem to do anything. “Oh-kay.” He left it alone. “I was so much trouble in my youth, and ever since I nearly took Kingsley down, I’ve been labeled as dangerous. I’ve always been the one to watch, the one who might unravel and take everyone with me. I think she worried she’d see herself in you—the survivor of abuse who couldn’t get help because she thought it might look weak to the pack. I think she was ready to help you get free, or help you work through the pain she was certain I’d cause.”
“Oh Austin, no, that can’t be.” I put my hand on his thigh. “She clearly loves being in your company. I could tell.”
“She loves me, yes, but I’m also a haunting reminder of my father. I was like him in my youth.
She’s blinded by trauma, I think. But you’ve shown her that you don’t need help. You’re happy to sit
on my lap and trick me into eating terrible vegetables.”
“They’re a fruit, actually. The fruit of an olive tree.” I gently squeezed his leg, trying to lighten the mood.
“Fine, whatever. The point is, I think she was looking for those little signs of wariness a victim often shows when they’re worried they’ve stepped over the line with their abuser. There weren’t any, though, and now she’s not sure what to make of us.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “Got it. Well, in time she’ll realize that you’ve changed your trajectory in life. I truly believe that, Austin. In the meantime, since she’s not the alpha anymore, maybe this is a good time for her to finally get some help? Maybe you or Mimi can give her a nudge. It’s sad and unfair that she’s had to carry that burden for so long.”
“I’ll talk to Mimi about it. Or maybe Kingsley, find a way to broach the subject.”
He parked in the garage and left the keys in the car, probably hoping someone would take it.
“You still need to patch things up with Aurora, huh?” I asked as he opened the front door.
“Yeah. I’m not sure what’ll make that better. I really screwed up.”
He ducked around the corner of the kitchen, finding the space clean and shiny. On the counter waited a plate covered in plastic wrap with a handwritten note on top of it: Tell me this isn’t better than your wildest dreams!
He snickered softly, putting the plate in the fridge. “She’s going to get a page of fixes for that dish, no matter how good it is.”