Shifters and Mistletoe by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kaering Press

10

How he was ever going to live without her, Silas didn’t know. He sat in the pack’s guest hall kitchen, perched at the marble-topped island counter on one of several wooden stools. The apron Cheyenne had tied on him, a red and green gingham patterned atrocity, which apparently belonged to the pack’s security specialist, Blaze, read: “On the Naughty List. I regret nothing.” He glanced down at the lettering again, frowning at the sight. He was covered in flour by now, patches of it coating him from nearly head to toe. There was even a bit in his hair, his beard, not to mention the mess of sticky icing on his hands.

The warm scent of cinnamon, clove, and ginger mixed with peppermint buttercream filled the air, permeating the room. They were alone now and had been for hours, leaving an unwelcome, quiet tension between them. The gingerbread panels which they’d been working on for the better part of the afternoon had finally cooled, and now, much to his chagrin, she expected him to assemble it and decorate for fuck’s sake.

Silas stared down at the crumbling mess that was supposed to be his gingerbread house, feeling it collapse further beneath his rough hands. It kept crumbling beneath his fingertips, which he only now realized were rather large, blunt. Overtly masculine. Like they belonged to the cowboy he’d become.

Why the fuck did people enjoy doing this?

He grimaced. “I don’t think I’m doing it right.”

Cheyenne didn’t bother to look toward him. “It’s easy. Just follow the directions.” She waved a dismissive hand.

He had. Or tried to, at least, and look where the hell that’d gotten him.

Silas glanced down at the monstrosity he’d created again. His gingerbread house looked more like gingerbread rubble. Or maybe some poor half-hearted attempt at an igloo, if he squinted hard enough. He grunted his displeasure. How was he supposed to convince her to stay if he couldn’t even build a damn gingerbread house for her?

He glanced over to Cheyenne’s station, where she was still working, entranced in the minutiae and detail of her creation. Whereas his portion of the kitchen island had become chaos shortly after he’d started, bits of icing, flour, candy, and crumbled gingerbread walls scattered all over the place, hers was as neat as a pin. Tidy. Meticulous. Perfect.

He frowned.

She was so good at all this, being a part of a family, a pack, creating new traditions with him that it made his chest ache. How could she not see it?

Just this morning when she’d gathered the elders and children together after breakfast to help her decorate the tree, he’d stood in the shadows by the fireside, watching her. The ease with which the pups and the elders adored her was one he wished she could witness like he did, from the outside looking in. She may have been different from them, but her packmates loved her for it, for her tenderness, her loving heart, the warmth she brought into every shadow near her presence,

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