Page 13 of Targeted By Fate

I stood back from the bed, not wanting to overwhelm him.

“You’re…” He gulped. “You’re my mate.”

Phew, that was a load off my mind. At least we didn’t have to dance around one another, date maybe, and endure the pushing and pulling I’d observed with humans.

But the poor guy had no memory of how he got here.

“I’m Keane. I should’ve mentioned that.”

“I’m Boaz, and I’ll explain what happened from the time we met, but can I get you coffee and something to eat?”

He peered out the window. “From? Looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“I have supplies. Nothing fancy, just coffee and toast?”

He nodded, but his pained expression and wiggling butt had me pointing to the bathroom before I skedaddled out of the room.

I jumped up and down in front of the sink and did silent clappy-claps because he recognized me as his mate. But the images burned into my mind of his naked body after he shifted led me to burn something else: the toast.

The smoke alarm blared, and Keane raced out with a towel wrapped around his hips. He clutched it with both hands, but it slid lower, giving me a glimpse of a patch of dark curly hair.

“What’s happening?” He tore toward the front door, rattling the handle but unable to undo the bolt. He lost his grip on the towel, but while his shifter reflexes may have been suppressed, he was able to catch the fluffy piece of flannel before it hit the floor. I did get a good look at his butt cheeks and crack. Nice.

“Sorry.” I reached out to grab him but reconsidered. Not knowing what to do with my hands, they dangled in the air. “That was me burning the toast.”

Keane glanced at me over his shoulder. “That’s it?” He sniffed. “Oh. I thought the cabin was on fire.”

“I’ll start the process again.” I tossed out the incinerated pieces of bread and poured a cup of coffee. “While you’re waiting for food, here’s something hot to drink.

Keane grinned after taking a sip. “Ahhh, that’s good.” He eyed the toaster. “Interesting you refer to toast as food.”

Hmmm. I wondered if cat shifters had an aversion to bread. “I can make something else.”

“No, it’s fine. Toast is great, but I never understood how people can go to work or school after eating only a crispy piece of bread.”

We had something in common. I wasn’t much of a toast guy either. A few bites and it was gone, leaving crumbs everywhere.

“Go back to bed and I’ll bring the toast in with more coffee.” Keane had already drained his cup, and I poured him another one.

“And then we’ll have the talk?”

I’d overheard humans refer to the talk as a precursor to a break-up, but we weren’t mated and technically we’d only just met. It was either that or he needed me to explain how babies were made. Pretty sure I’d read in a novel that was how some humans approached the sex talk with their kids.

“Okaay.” This was going to be interesting.

“About how I got here.”

“Right.” Light dawned in my befuddled brain. “The talk. Yes, I’ll get you up to speed.”

I inwardly cursed at my choice of words, as I’d made him sound like a car. But Keane trotted back to bed, and I got cracking on making more toast. Not wanting it to burn again, I readjusted the timer and stood by the toaster waiting for it to pop up.

Placing honey, butter, jam, cheese, and ham on a tray, along with more coffee and milk, I strode into the bedroom.

“Wow! A feast!”

“Wasn’t sure if you’re a sweet or savory person… in the morning.”

Keane closed one eye. “I can be either.”

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