Blood and Snow (Blood and Snow volume 1) by RaShelle Workman

Author:RaShelle Workman [Workman, RaShelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Polished Pen Press
Published: 2012-06-05T16:00:00+00:00

The notion that he’d come over and cooked for me was incredible, and another testament to the reasons I adored his sons. He’d raised them after all. They were incredibly good, decent men because that’s the example Professor Pops set for them. I had to wonder how he and the guys had gotten in, and where all the food came from. My refrigerator held soy yogurt, apples, raw almonds, and orange juice, and I had some whole-wheat pasta and tomato sauce in the pantry, but that was about it. I wasn’t going to ask him though. That would’ve been rude. Besides, I was too busy stuffing my face with fruit covered waffle. Gabe sat at the island, his back to me, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to him during breakfast.

There’d been a lot of grunting, and chewing going on after Sebastian uttered a quick prayer, but not much else. The food was divine. Afterward, I helped Professor Pops clean up the kitchen. Salvatore and Bart had apologized, clearing the air.

When it was just the two of us in the kitchen, Professor Pops filled the large kitchen sink with hot water, and dish soap. A perfectly good stainless steel dishwasher had been installed next to the sink, but he wanted to hand wash the dishes. “You know we could throw these in there.” I pointed at the dishwasher.

“True, but where’s the fun in that?” He wriggled his eyebrows, and I giggled.

He handed me a plate. I dried it, and placed it in the cupboard.

Casually, he said, “Your sixteenth birthday is in two months.”

“It is,” I agreed.

“Have you made any plans yet?”

I stood beside him and took another plate he handed me. It was hot, and I hurriedly dried it. “Not yet. My parents won’t be back from St. Bart’s, so I’m not sure.”

He didn’t say anything right away. I looked up. His jaw flexed and his eyes were scrunched as though he had to concentrate to wash the plate.

Professor Pops had thick gray hair. He was tall, and lean. I figured he’d probably been very handsome when he was younger. As it was, I’d say he was distinguished. He had on a pair of tan slacks, a red and white checkered button-up shirt, and a tan sweater with dark suede patches at the elbows. On his feet were loafers, and in his left breast pocket were silver wire-rimmed reading glasses. He was the epitome of what I believed a Professor of Religion should look like. Well a Professor of any kind, really.

After I put away the dried plate, I came back, for the next one. “It isn’t a big deal. Maybe I’ll invite the guys, and Cindy over to watch a movie. That’ll be fun.”

He blew out a breath, and I deliberated if I’d made him mad. “Professor?” I asked, tentative.

He dropped the plate in the soapy sink, letting it splash, and turned to me. Taking the towel in my hands, he dried off his, and then placed it on the counter.

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