The third time, the crust of bread shot from her blocked airway and out of her mouth. Wynter drew in a shuddering breath and coughed until she could finally breathe without feeling as though she still had something caught in her airway.
“Thank you,” she said between coughs. “I guess that’s what I get for taking a slice of bread without asking.”
“What?” Geno appeared confused. “Why would you ask to eat the food we bought for you?”
“It’s not mine.” She waved her arm. “And this isn’t my house. I just... I was just so damned hungry.”
“Forgive me. I should have known you’d need sustenance before you slept.”
Taking Wynter’s hand, he pulled her against his side, wrapped his arm around her waist, and led her into the kitchen.
“What would you like?” He pulled a chair from the table and set her in it before heading to the refrigerator. “I think the boys put some deli ham in here for you. Would you like a ham sandwich, or don’t you eat pork?”
“I eat pork.” She smiled. “I eat just about anything.” She held her arms out. “Can’t you tell?”
“I don’t understand.” Geno bent to pull some things from the refrigerator before he stood and raked his gaze over her. “I don’t see anything that would suggest that.”
“I was referring to my size,” She returned dryly. “I’m a big girl. You know, big, beautiful woman.”
“You are that.” His mouth quirked at the corners while his gaze started at the top of her head and worked its way down her body before moving back up to her face, his amber eyes glittering with some emotion she couldn’t quite place. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful woman.” His brows lifted at his declaration, and something flickered in his expression before he turned his attention back to the interior of the refrigerator.
If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn he liked what he saw—at least for a moment. But Wynter knew better. Some men were better actors than others, that was all.
Her face heated as she stared at his backside as he rummaged through the food. She wanted to run to her bedroom and slam the door closed, or crawl under the table where he couldn’t stare at her anymore.
Geno’s intense amber gaze was almost enough to make her squirm in her seat. The heat in his eyes was nearly enough to convince her that he meant everything he said, but she knew better than that.
For some reason, men liked to con women like her. They plied them with pretty words and made them feel beautiful just the way they were then once they got the woman trapped, they ridiculed her and treated her like dirt.
Ben had done that. When they first started dating, he couldn’t compliment her enough. Then, about eighteen months after they married, her husband had turned into one of the biggest jerks she’d ever met.
For months, he constantly berated her on her size, or what she ate. Hell, it had gotten to the point that she couldn’t eat celery without him commenting on how much of it would stick to her hips.
How could she have lived the last two years devoted to his memory when he’d been nothing but a con man and an abusive jerk? She’d wasted too much time with him while they were married. Why did she continue to spend time worrying about what he’d think now that he was dead and gone?
Geno dropped an armload of food on the table, and Wynter jumped. She’d been so busy feeling sorry for, and berating herself that she’d forgotten he’d been foraging in the refrigerator to find something to eat.
“There’s ham, chicken breast, roasted turkey, bologna, several different kinds of cheeses, bread, hoagie rolls, an assortment of sandwich vegetables, and condiments.” He grinned at her as though he’d been the one to prepare all the food he’d set out. “Go ahead and fix yourself something.” He peered around the table at her backside. “It looks as though you could stand a meal or two. Didn’t they feed you at that place you escaped from?”
“They didn’t feed us much.” She picked through the pile of deli meats and cheeses on the table. “Though,” she reached back and patted her rear. “As you can see, I could stand to miss a few more meals.”
“Not from where I’m standing, you can’t.” He scowled and went to the cupboard next to the sink and pulled out two plates. “It looks to me as though you could use to put on a few pounds.” He smiled. “I like a woman with curves.”
“I’ve heard that before.” Wynter wasn’t about to allow another handsome man to turn her head. She’d already been there and done that. She didn’t need an encore.
“Why the sour expression, takana? Did I say something to upset you, or does the meat smell foul?”
“No. There’s nothing wrong.” She pressed her lips together. She was not getting into that conversation with him. She’d had the same one with Ben, and he’d convinced her he was sincere. It turned out that the only things that had attracted him to her were her job, the value of her father’s house, and her bank account. Her body had disgusted him, and he didn’t mind telling her that after their first eighteen months had passed.
After eighteen months of marriage, he could ask for alimony. Ben might not have gotten a lot of money awarded since they hadn’t been married long, but when added to the settlements of the other women he’d married and divorced, it wasn’t a bad little nest egg. She’d never expected to inherit what money he had. As soon as she discovered how he’d gotten it, Wynter had hunted down every one of his five ex-wives and given them each a percentage of the money back, dividing it up as fairly as she could between them. She didn’t want nor need his money. It would only have been a reminder of what a fool she’d been.
“I thought you said you were hungry.”
Wynter pressed her lips together, knowing she couldn’t tell him that merely talking to him made her stomach feel as though a million butterflies were flitting around inside it.
“I...um... yes. Yes, I am.” She reached for a package of sliced apples. There was no way she’d stuff her face with deli meat while he stood there watching her as though she were a mouse and he a hungry cat.
Reaching out, his hand covered hers, engulfing it with his large palm. His fingers gently closed around hers and guided her hand away from the apples, to his lips.
Ever so slowly, as though he hadn’t a care in the world, he kissed each of her fingers before turning her hand palm up and pressed his mouth against her leaping pulse.
Wynter swallowed thickly, her mouth dry. She pulled her hand from his grasp and leaned back before her heart pounded from her chest. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she stared up at him.
How could she possibly be so attracted to him? She’d just met the man, for goodness sake. Besides, she didn’t trust him. She didn’t know if she could ever trust a man again. How could she, after what Ben had put her through? Her cheeks burned. Whether it was from anger or desire was anyone’s guess.
She lifted her right hand to her throat. Her heart pounded so hard, and so fast he could probably hear it.
Curling her fingers into a fist, she held her other hand against her thigh as she tried to gather enough brain cells together to form a coherent sentence.
“I should go to bed.” Her cheeks burned. “I mean to sleep.”
Geno grinned at her, his expression telling her he knew exactly what she was doing.
“Sweet dreams, Wynter,” he said just before he winked at her and blew her a kiss.
Wynter stood still for a moment, her mouth opening and closing, though she could find nothing to say.
Wide-eyed, she spun around and made a hasty retreat to her bedroom, the sound of carefree humming following her down the hallway. She pressed a hand to her fluttering stomach. The hunger pains were long gone. One thing was sure, if she kept getting so nervous around him, spending time with Geno was going to be one hell of a weight loss program.
Chapter Twelve
GENO WOKE TO THE SCENT of brewed coffee and frying bacon. He loved bacon. Of all the foods he’d eaten on the hundreds of worlds he’d visited, bacon
was his favorite. There was just something about the salty and smoky flavor that made his mouth water.
Standing, he stretched. Working the kinks out of his muscles wasn’t easy after a night spent on the floor of his room. He shifted back to his human form. He wanted to get downstairs before any of his sons showed up and drank all the coffee while eating his share of the bacon.
Five minutes later, he descended the stairs and entered the kitchen. He took in the sight of wonderful domestication. He hadn’t seen a beautiful woman standing barefoot in a kitchen in nearly thirty years. The center of his chest ached a bit, and he rubbed the area just over his primary heart.
The twins were at the table, each of them sitting on a thick car repair manual as they took bites of thick slices of toast. Jam covered their cheeks, fanning out from the corners of their mouths in a thin purple smile.
“Good morning, Papa!” they said in unison.
His smile faltered a bit, and his chest ached just a bit more as he remembered his sons at that age, their little faces looking up at him with such love and trust.
“Good morning, Nicky. Good morning, Noah,” he addressed each boy in turn.
“How come nobody else can tell us apart, but you can?” Noah asked with narrowed eyes.
“I don’t know.” Geno smiled and shrugged before he leaned over the table and whispered, “How do you two tell each other apart? Don’t you wake up in the morning and wonder which one you are?”
“That’s just silly.” Nicky declared around a mouthful of bacon. “I’m always Nicky, and he’s always Noah.” He grinned. “Cept when we’re trying to fool people.”
Geno grabbed a cup from the cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Would you like breakfast?” Wynter asked as she stirred a pan of scrambled eggs.
“Not if those were for you.” He set his coffee on the table and pulled out a chair for her. “I’m quite capable of cooking breakfast for myself. I don’t expect you to wait on me.”
He’d never expected it from Rowninda either, but she’d loved cooking and cleaning and being the caregiver while he and their sons searched planets for resources they could use.
“I don’t mind.” She smiled as she emptied the pan onto a plate, added hash browns, and several slices of bacon. “I hope you don’t mind them scrambled,” she said as she set the plate on the table in front of his coffee and pointed at the last two slices of toast. “You’d better claim those before the boys do. It’s the first good meal they’ve had in weeks. So far, they’ve each eaten three eggs, two slices of toast, and several slices of bacon. I’m not sure if they’re ever going to stop eating. Their metabolisms might have changed now that they’re shifters.”
“Boys should have healthy appetites.” He took a long drink of his coffee and then met her gaze. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I’m fine. I’ve already had something.”
Geno narrowed his eyes as he remembered passing the empty sink. Either she’d already done her dishes with no dishrag to wash and a dish towel to dry them or she was lying. Why wouldn’t she eat?
A tell-tale blush crept up her neck to fill her cheeks with a becoming shade of pink. At least she couldn’t tell a bald-faced lie without blushing. It said a lot about her character.
“My, you’re quite efficient, aren’t you? You’ve washed and dried your dishes while cooking the rest of us breakfast.” He crossed his arms, took a deep breath, and moved to the stove. “Go eat your damned breakfast before I feel compelled to feed it to you. I’ll worry about my breakfast.” He gave her a gentle push toward the table. “I’ve been fending for myself and my sons for nearly thirty years. I’m sure I can manage to fry a few eggs.”
Gods, he wanted nothing more than to hunt down her husband and kill the bastard. How could any man make such a beautiful woman devalue herself as much as Wynter did?
“I-I’m sorry.” She hurried to the table and sat in front of the plate. She rested her hands in her lap as she stared down at the table.
Now, look at what you’ve done. Geno took a deep breath and counted to one-hundred before he slowly exhaled. She didn’t say anything. She merely sat at the table, her head bowed and her shoulders hunched as though trying to make herself appear as small and insignificant as possible. He knew that pose. He’d seen it before. The abused slaves of many worlds he’d visited did their best to try to be invisible to avoid the wrath or unwanted attention of their masters.
He closed his eyes with a silent curse and tried to relax, so the next time he talked to her, he would have his emotions under control. Taking his time, he lit the burner of the stove and added a bit of the olive oil on the counter while he waited for the pan to heat. After a few moments, he cracked the two eggs she’d left on the counter, added a third and a fourth from the carton, and stirred the eggs together.
He’d never had chicken or chicken eggs before coming to Earth, and he’d decided he liked them—especially with bacon. Oh, and pancakes, waffles, or French toast smothered in maple syrup.
He stirred the eggs one last time and then shut off the burner. He left the eggs to finish cooking in the hot pan while he added two slices of bread to the toaster, plated his eggs and bacon, then carried his food and the coffee pot to the table.
“Would you like more coffee?” He held the pot up over her cup and waited for a moment before he sighed. “I’m sorry I got a bit angry with you. I want to tell you something about my people.” He poured more coffee into her cup, refilled his own, and then replaced it on the warmer.
“We worship many gods, but none more than our goddess. We love our women because we believe they are closer to the goddess. Like her, only they have the ability to create life. None of us would ever think to raise a hand to our females. Neither would we ever think to berate them or abuse them in any way.” He sat next to her and rested his hand over hers, which she still held in her lap. “I would never deliberately harm you physically or emotionally. Please believe me.”
“I...,” she paused and glanced at the twins who had finally stopped eating.
“Can we go upstairs and play with the toys in our room?” Nicky slid from his chair and gestured to his brother.
“There are toys in your room?” Her brow furrowed. “Why didn’t I notice that last night?”
“Uh-huh,” Nicky replied as he stood up and nodded. “They smell new. Kind of like Christmas when you get new toys.”
“Well, if they’re new maybe you shouldn’t—“
“If there are toys in their room, my sons put them there for their use. Let them go and be themselves.” Geno suggested gently. “They’ve been through a lot and need to be children again.” If he knew anything about little boys, it was that they could handle a lot as long as they got the chance to play once in a while.
“If you’re sure...” She pulled her hands from his and grasped her napkin. “Come here and let me wipe the jam from your mouths.”
They both groaned but did as she instructed.
“Can we go now?” They said in unison when she finished cleaning their faces. They were practically vibrating with energy as they waited for her permission.
“Okay. Have fun, but stay in your room unless you have to go to the bathroom.”
They watched as the twins disappeared down the hallway, and once Geno was certain they were out of earshot, he nudged Wynter’s elbow.
“Eat. It’s probably cold by now, but you need sustenance.” He raised a brow when she did nothing. “Shall I feed you, then?”
“No!” She snatched up her fork and dug it into her eggs, shoved a bite into her mouth, and grimaced. “They're cold.”
She wrinkled her pert little nose, and Geno found he wanted to kiss it.
“Then, we should throw them away and make new.” He glanced at his plate. “My breakfast has gotten cold as well.”
“Are you kidding? We’ll microwave them, and they’ll be hot in a few seconds.” She stood and held her hand out for his plate.
; “You are not my servant, Wynter.” He grasped his plate and stood. “Teach me how to use this microwave. I’ve never used one before.” He was certain it couldn’t be any more difficult to use than the replicators on his ship.
“Okay.” She said with a sigh. “Bring it on over here.”
A few moments later, they both had hot breakfasts again.
“That is a wonderful idea. It’s a waste to throw away non-replicated food, as we can’t return its energy to the system as we can with the replicated fare.” He stooped to examine the device.
“You should probably eat before it gets cold again. Reheating it a second time will probably dry it out and make it inedible.”
When he straightened and turned the color washed from her face, her hands shaking as she set her plate on the table.
“I-I didn’t mean to...” She backed up a pace as though she expected him to strike her. “I shouldn’t have told you what to do.”
“There’s no need to apologize, Wynter.” He kept his voice low and even, so as not to frighten her. “You are perfectly correct.” He glanced at his plate. “The last thing I want is to waste these eggs I managed not to burn, and the bacon you have perfectly prepared.
“Have a seat.” He waved toward her chair. “Let’s eat while it’s still hot.” He held her chair as she sat before taking his own.
He took a bite of eggs, glanced back at the counter and sighed. “I forgot the toast. I’ll retrieve it from the toaster. I don’t suppose that heats well in the microwave, does it?”
“No.” Her lips curled up at the corners a bit. “It steams and gets rubbery. You wouldn’t like it.”
“No. I don’t suppose I would.” He sighed, resigning himself to eat cold toast. Old habits died hard, and he couldn’t bring himself to waste it. “Tell me about your husband.” He sat and reached for the jam. “Where can we find him? Would you like us to take you to him?”
They’d take her to him over his cold, dead body. The cold-hearted bastard didn’t deserve Wynter if he was the one who had abused her.
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