Page 75 of Sing Sweet Nightingale

The clock hanging on the wall reads eight-fifteen. That’s not that late. My brow furrows, and I look back to Hunter, who’s still smiling at me but keeping a watchful eye on the pan before him.

“It’s not even nine. How early do you get up to think eight fifteen is late?”

He shrugs and returns to stirring the contents of the pan, giving me his back once again. I take another lingering look at his butt before crossing to see what he’s cooking.

“I’m usually up and out of the house by seven. Early bird gets the worm and all that,” he chuckles.

“Well, I don’t like worms,” I state, peeking around his shoulder to the stove. “Whatcha cookin’?”

“Breakfast,” he says, like I couldn’t tell that.

“Obviously, but what specifically?”

Hunter steps to the side to show me the pans. One pan has scrambled eggs with chunks of green veggies, and another has bacon and sausage. I’m pretty sure I didn’t have any of those things besides the eggs in my fridge.

“Where did you get all this?”

“My house. I woke early and made a quick trip since you had nothing beyond cereal.”

Inhaling the delicious aroma, my stomach grumbles greedily. Hunter laughs and leans over to kiss the top of my head as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Out of shock I don’t respond because I have no idea how to. Our relationship seems to be shifting drastically, and although I’m not opposed to it, I have no idea what we are to one another.

“Why don’t you get some coffee and take a seat, food will be done shortly.”

Nodding awkwardly, I go to fill my cup and sigh with delight at the taste of the warm, bitter bean juice—so much better than the burnt dirt water I was making.

I sit and watch Hunter move around the kitchen, completely at home in the space. Though I suppose he would be, this is his cabin after all. I’m sure he’s spent many days and nights here to know exactly where every teaspoon is kept.

He makes two plates and a cup of coffee, then sits across from me at the small dining table.

The food looks mouthwatering.

“Dig in,” he commands with a wave of his fork, already piled high with eggs.

He shoves the full fork in his mouth, and I follow suit, moaning when I bite into a perfectly crispy piece of bacon. We don’t talk much as we eat, and it isn’t until Hunter’s cleared the plates and refilled our coffee that he does.

“I’ve asked Ginger to come over and keep you company today, maybe answer any remaining questions you have. I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah. That would be great. I’d love a girl’s day.”

And I can ask her all the other questions I didn’t have the nerve to ask Hunter specifically about the possibility of being a mate and whatever the hell that entails.

We don’t have to wait long before Hunter stands, as if he heard something outside, listening carefully before grinning down at me.

“Ginger’s here, or almost. She’s just down the driveway.”

Wow, can he hear her that far away and distinguish her car from others? Remind me never to whisper secrets anywhere near a shifter.

Slipping his hand into mine, he helps me stand and pulls me into the circle of his arms. A move so simple and yet so monumental, again with the ease and comfort of someone who’s done it a thousand times. Apparently, he’s done distancing himself from me.

His embrace is strong but comforting, a presence that eases me deeper into his embrace. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I allow him to hold me and myself to hold him. As strange as this all is, it’s also easy. Right. And I haven’t had either of those things in many years.

Leaning into his touch, I rest my cheek against his chest, which swells against my face with a deep breath. His heart a steady beating drum in my ear, further drawing me in.

Pulling away just enough to look down at me, Hunter bends to nuzzle his nose against my temple.

“Be good today, Nightingale. Stay with Ginger, and don’t go anywhere alone. I still don’t know if Vincent’s men will try anything again. And I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you.”

The part of me that prickles at trying to be controlled eases only at the sound of the concern in his voice. For him, for now, I’ll do as he asks. But I will not let this Vincent asshole ruin everything I’ve gained. I will not allow anyone to ever control my life again.

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