Gray Back Bad Bear(29)
Yeah. Got to go. Lunch break is done. Crawfish boil tonight. Will u come?
What time?
Seven
I’ll see you then
Another text came through. This morning was fun
A grin cracked her face as she responded. For me too, you sexy bear. I like your big 8---D
Moments ticked by before Matt’s response made her phone chirp again. Good, cause I love your (0)
She laughed too loud again, but this time, she didn’t care. Last night wasn’t a one night stand. She’d known in her heart it wasn’t, but her head was still stuck on Matt being a playboy. But he’d gotten his alpha to lift the rules they’d broken last night, and now she was being invited back because of Matt.
Pressure suddenly pushed against her chest and made it hard to breathe. He’d said this was kind of a test. Creed’s test? Matt’s test? It felt important that she make a good impression with his friends. Now more than ever, it became apparent just how much pull Creed had with his crew. He could kick her out of Matt’s life for good.
Crap.
Willa climbed out of the Hobo Hot Pool and tiptoed across the pavement to her bag. Toweling off, she began ticking off the ingredients she’d need from the grocery store.
Mom had always said the way to a man’s heart was through his belly.
Willa had the beginnings of a plan and grandma’s recipe memorized.
She sure hoped Creed liked homemade gumbo with his crawfish.
****
Jason was squatting down by a gargantuan silver pot when Willa pulled into the Grayland Mobile Park. He nodded his chin in greeting, his dark eyes focused on his task at hand, which, at the moment, seemed to be adjusting a propane tank and lighting a burner under the pot.
“Back so soon? You must be aching for some trouble.”
“Or I am the trouble,” she teased, pulling the first paper grocery bag from the back seat.
Jason snorted. “Sounds about right. What do you have there?”
“I’m making gumbo tonight.”
Jason stood. He still didn’t have a shirt on, but at least now he was wearing pants. “From scratch?” The surprise in his voice was borderline offensive.
“Yep.” She hefted another bag to her hip.
“You a Louisiana girl by any chance?”
“I grew up in Minden. How’d you guess?”
“The accent sounded familiar.” Jason thumped his chest. “I’m from just outside of New Orleans. A bayou bear, Turned and raised.”
“Really? Is that why they put you in charge of the crawfish?”
“Ha, no. Your boy is controlling about the crawfish. I’m the potato and onions guy, and sometimes I add the corn if he’s feeling generous.”
“Matt cooks?”
“Matt controls. He can’t help himself. His bear is…well…you know.”
She didn’t know, but maybe Matt should tell her if he had problems with his animal. “You said you were Turned?”
“Yep, right after my twenty-first birthday.”
Willa struggled with full arms to a prep table where Jason had obviously been shucking corn cobs.
“Who Turned you?”
Jason’s smile faded from his lips as he pulled the lid off the pot with what looked like a metal paddle. “My mate.”
“Oh.” Obviously he wasn’t paired up anymore, and his shuttered eyes said he didn’t want to talk about it, so she didn’t push.
They worked in silence after that, but it wasn’t awkward. It was the comfortable kind where they didn’t have to use small talk to fill a void. They worked side-by-side on the prep table, and he even offered to show her how to turn on the brick outdoor stove. And when he’d done that, he jogged into Matt’s trailer and came back with a large boiling pot for her to start making a roux.
Now, she liked to do her roux low and slow, so she was barely done with it by the time Jason said, “Look like you’re workin’. Boss and them boys are headed back, and Creed is in a foul mood today. He just about ripped my ear off through the phone earlier when he told me to get the crawfish.”
“Because of me?”
“Yep.”
“Shit, Jason, you could’ve sugarcoated it a little bit.”
“No sugar around here, trouble. Only spice.”
Minutes later, she heard what must’ve warned Jason of his crew’s imminent arrival. Rumbling trucks and creaky brakes. Nervous flutters filled her stomach thinking about Creed’s anger. She hated being the cause of a rift in the Gray Back Crew.
She scooped her chopped holy trinity—bell peppers, onions, and celery—into the dark roux, and stirred them constantly as the roar of engines grew closer and closer.
Her palms were sweating now, and as much as she wished she could blame it on working around high heat, she was nervous from her hairline to her toes. By the time the two trucks pulled down the main, white gravel road that curved through the trailer park, her hands were shaking something fierce.