Claiming His Mate(7)

Part of him had feared she’d split the second she woke up, but he’d been banking on the fact that she wanted that brooch too much. He’d heard through the grapevine of pack gossip that she was still here and had been taking pack visitors all day with incredible politeness.

Her scent and something that smelled incredible teased him as he headed down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen. She’d cooked? Each packmate had an ocean view and since he had the penthouse of the condominium building the pack owned, his place was a little larger than most.

The hallway emptied out into an open living room and kitchen, with the kitchen to the left. As he stepped into the normally unused room, he froze in his tracks. Bent over pulling something out of the oven, Lauren wore skimpy little shorts that rode up and almost showed the bottom of her ass. Swallowing hard, Max forced himself to look away as he stepped into the kitchen. She had to know he was there. She’d have heard the door opening and scented him. Maybe she was waiting for him to speak first.

He’d acted like an asshole last night when he’d told her his fantasies about her and he needed to get himself under control. Staring at her ass wouldn’t help him.

Clearing his throat as he stepped into the room, he tossed his keys onto the counter and headed for the refrigerator. “Something smells good,” he said in what he hoped was a casual voice as he grabbed a beer.

“I got bored so I decided to cook. Hope you like shepherd’s pie.” Her sweet voice wrapped around him, making him light headed for a moment. God, how could she have this affect on him?

Shutting the fridge, he found her slipping the oven mitts off and turning to face him. She smiled tentatively. “Listen, I know we got off on the wrong foot and that your punishment, even though it’s a little odd, isn’t harsh. If I’m gonna be here for a week, I’d like to be at least civil.” There was a question in her eyes even though she didn’t ask anything. Her cooking dinner was a sort of peace offering.

One he would gladly take. He nodded, forcing his gaze not to trail down her lean, lithe body. Despite the cooler weather she wore barely there yoga shorts and a tank top. With their higher body temperatures it made sense, plus he’d left the heat on. Her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail with tendrils framing her face and with no makeup she looked so comfortable, like she belonged here. In his home. “That works for me. You want a drink?”

She nodded so he grabbed another beer. When he shut the fridge again he watched her moving around his kitchen with ease. She set plates and utensils out on the island before moving the glass baking dish to the cooling rack she’d set out. He hadn’t even realized he owned a cooling rack. He rarely used the room, choosing to eat at one of the restaurants the pack owned. She seemed so at home and she’d clearly figured out where everything was.

Feeling almost useless and not wanting to get in her way, he sat at the island and set both their beers down. “How’d you manage to cook all this?” He knew he didn’t have the ingredients to make shepherd’s pie. Or anything at all except maybe an omelet.

“Some of your packmates stopped by so I hit them up for ingredients. I didn’t know if I was allowed to leave your place,” she said with a slight smile but he knew she wasn’t kidding.

Punishments for invading another supernatural’s territory could be harsh or nothing at all. It just depended on the crime and the alpha involved. Since she’d actually broken into an alpha’s home, Max could have done a lot worse. Something she knew and was another reason he hadn’t worried about her leaving. She’d gotten off incredibly easy with his punishment. “You could have called and asked.”

She shrugged and sat next to him. “I didn’t want to bug you, especially since I had company from pretty much the moment I woke up. Your pack is very nosy.”

Their chairs were a foot apart, but he could feel her body heat and desperately wanted to slide closer, to inhale her sweet scent. Instead of doing what he wanted, he added a helping to her plate, then his. “Is your pride any different?”

She snorted and let out a short laugh. “No way. They’re horrible. When I go home I already know what kind of gossip will have been spread. I’m pretty sure your packmates think we’re getting mated or something. Some of those older women are ready to see you settled and call me crazy, I don’t think they care if it’s with a jaguar.” She laughed again, as if the idea was ridiculous. “They got so excited when I told them I wanted to cook you dinner.” Shaking her head, she took a bite of her meal.