My Hunger to Bear (The Everson Brothers Book 5) by Olivia Arran

Author:Olivia Arran [Arran, Olivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arran Publishing
Published: 2017-01-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Connie

A bear… I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen, strangely calm despite the fantastical conversation I’d just been a part of. The logical side of my brain shouted in denial, but there were too many unexplained things to just dismiss his claim. He hadn’t aged. My father had mentioned a bear guarding me—Ralph had certainly watched over me, despite my constant encouragement not to. There was a hell of a lot of bear sightings around Craggstone, more than usual, but none in the town center. No accidents or incidents. The Everson brothers’ love of the forest. The odd snippet of conversation overheard over the years. It all added up.

Not to mention … just look at him. He was huge. He had muscles that really should require living in a gym. Huge. Did I say that already? Flashing bronze eyes. Growly voice. Big hands. Did that mean he had big paws? The giggle escaped, echoing around the room.

The sous-chef glanced over at me, his hands not pausing as they chopped and diced vegetables for tonight’s service.

“Do you need a hand?” I needed something to take my mind off things, to give myself time to process everything, and there was nothing like baking or cooking.

“Nope. Everything’s just about done.” He scraped his knife across the counter, sliding the vegetables into a large pot that he held ready.

The bubble of anticipation popped. “Everything?”

This earned me a second glance. “I haven’t prepped the third dessert yet.”

Grabbing the metaphorical carrot he was dangling in front of my nose, I grabbed an apron and tied it on. “What is it?”

“Cherry muffins.” Ralph’s voice came from behind me.

The sous-chef had his poker face down to a work of art.

“Muffins? For the restaurant?”

“Sure.” He strolled into the kitchen, checking various pots and pans with a satisfied nod. “Everyone will be pining for some of your baked goods, since you’re temporarily out of business. Why not give them what they want?”

“What you want, you mean.”

Picking up a spoon, he dipped it into a bubbling pan, scooping out some liquid. Blowing across the top, he brought the spoon to his mouth. “A touch more salt,” he muttered, sprinkling some in. “Ah, yeah, I did say I liked your muffins, didn’t I?” Selecting another spoon, he scooped up another sample and beckoned me over. “Taste the soup. Tell me what you think.”

Curious, I mooched over. He brought the spoon to my lips, his hand hovering to catch any drips. Tomato and basil exploded on my tongue, tangy and fresh, with a smoky undercurrent. “It’s good,” I groaned, catching the spoon off him and sucking it into my mouth. “Pancetta?”

“Yup.” His smirk was wide enough to park his sensible car in. “Thanks, Tony. I’ll see you tonight.”

The sous-chef finished washing his hands and tugged his apron off. “Sounds good, boss. We’ve got a full house again.”

“Life’s good.”

Tony nodded, his eyes sliding to assess me with a wicked glint. “Have fun, you two.” Then he sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune.

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