Page 19 of Daddy's Friend’s Mate

I dipped the tip of my finger into the mush and tasted it. “It’s not as good as mine.”

Regina scooped some mashed potatoes from the side of the bowl and left the tip of her finger in her mouth for a second longer than I thought was necessary—though I wasn’t about to complain.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “It’s salty.”

“Add some cheddar.”

She smiled while heading for the small fridge. “Glad I remembered that.”

“You say that like you forget things all the time.”

“I mean, sometimes.”

I hummed with intrigue. “Like what?”

“Well…” She clicked her nails against the fridge door, then used that same hand to grab a bag of shredded cheddar. The door clicked shut when she stepped away. “I guess I sometimes forget who I am and where I am.”

“Heavy dreams?”

She nodded as her brows subtly twitched together. I flipped the steak tips in the pan, balancing my focus between observing her reaction to my comment while monitoring the scent of the meat. She set the bowl on the counter, pried open the cheese, and poured a hefty amount into the potatoes.

I smiled. “For a second, I thought you might hold out on me.”

“Hell no. I love cheese. I love eating good food with cheese on it.”

“Good girl.”

Her cheeks bruised pink, and she smiled bashfully at the bowl as she pinched the bag of cheddar shut. After stepping around me to get to the fridge again, she brushed her hand against my right shoulder, a sensation that made my heart explode as I gripped the panhandle on the stove.

It was just a light touch, a brief one, but it told me exactly how much she cared about what I said, and how I said it. I knew not to get carried away. I knew how my daughter felt about the mates announcement. And though Regina agreed with me that we were better off being platonically associated, I couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to hold her in my arms.

To kiss her forehead.

To rest my hand tenderly and absently upon her hip.

I wondered.

And as I wondered, I cleared my throat and nudged her with my elbow. “Plates.”

“Yes, sir.”

This was surprisingly normal, remarkably nice. The way we flowed around each other, barely touching while being in close proximity, felt like a choreographed performance. She and I were dancing in a snug space without saying a word. It felt as natural as breathing, as lovely as seeing the cottage for the first time and realizing her consideration.

But those feelings weren’t exactly welcome. We were here for a mission, not a romantic getaway. Despite the alphas encouraging us to explore the possible mate bond between us, I didn’t want us to get distracted.

Alpha’s orders should always be obeyed.

Fuck me, my inner wolf and my humanity were clashing. It wasn’t like I had enough on my plate with this Méndez character and a county full of fangs.

“Easy there, Wolfie. It’s going to burn—” Regina gently took the pan handle out of my hand and moved it away from the burner. “Heavy dreams?”

I gulped while sensing the way she fluttered near me, how her heart ticked just slightly faster, battering quickly and then returning back to normal from just one look.

No, we couldn’t act like this. We couldn’t feel like this. It wasn’t right. For anyone.

I didn’t know her enough to trust her with anything. Yet my body responded to her influence like we had spent many hours one-on-one. She was practically a stranger to me. How was that possible?

After the steak tips stopped sizzling, she fixed our plates and handed one to me. “Porch or den?”

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