Page 12 of Tender Wild

Their arms touched as Jared leaned in, poking at the stray slimy pieces with a frown. Miguel caught another whiff of that citrus cologne, stronger now in the kitchen’s warmth. His wolf stirred, interested despite the day’s horrors.

“I’ve got skills,” Jared murmured when he moved away before expertly cracking three more eggs into the bowl.

“I bet you do.” Miguel’s voice deepened.

Pink crept up Jared’s neck. “Food skills. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Never said a word.” But he was definitely thinking it. Bending Jared over the chrome workstation as their lips met.

“Your face did.”

Miguel turned away, hiding his smile while grabbing a pan and setting it on the stove. He cranked the dial all the way around, the burner flaring blue-orange. “Hot pan, cold oil, right?”

“I think it’s the other way around?” Jared frowned. “Or maybe that’s just for stir-fry?”

Hell if Miguel knew. He was winging this. He’d never made an omelet in his life. Cooking eggs wasn’t in his wheelhouse. “Butter or oil?” he asked. Weren’t they interchangeable?

“Both,” Jared said decisively, still whisking his eggs as fast as a helicopter blade. “Go big or go hungry.”

Miguel laughed. “I like your style, kitty.”

Jared dumped salt into the mixture, followed by a handful of shredded cheese he’d found in a drawer. “This expired last week.”

“Cheese doesn’t expire, it just gets more... complex.” Miguel held out his hand. “Toss me the butter so we can get this meal going, gatito.”

Jared tossed the stick, and Miguel fumbled the catch. The butter skidded across the counter, leaving a greasy trail before dropping to the floor.

“Five-second rule?” Jared offered, clutching his bowl to his chest.

“More like five-minute rule in this kitchen.” Miguel scooped it up, tossed it in the trash, and caught the next one Jared threw his way. After slicing a chunk off the stick, he dropped it into the pan. It started smoking just as he poured in the oil. The mixture sizzled violently, spitting droplets that made them both jump back.

Miguel was pretty sure that wasn’t supposed to happen.

“That’s too hot!” Jared lunged for the dial, turning it down. “You’re gonna set the kitchen on fire.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Miguel grabbed a spatula, poking at the blackening butter. “Just adds character. Add your eggs in, cariño.”

Jared poured the mixture into the pan. Smoke billowed up as the eggs instantly browned, then turned black. Miguel grabbed the pan off the burner, coughing as acrid fumes stung his nose.

“Maybe I should—” Jared reached for the pan.

“No, I’ve got this.” Miguel dumped the burnt eggs into the sink, where they hissed against the metal. “Round two.”

Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen resembled a war zone. Eggshells littered the counter, a puddle of what was once cheese spread across the stovetop, and something that might have been chili decorated the backsplash.

“How did you get egg on the ceiling?” Jared stared upward, amazement in his voice.

Matias walked in and glanced around the room. His head slowly tilted, lips parting, brown eyes a little too wide. Then he closed them, turned around, and walked out, muttering something under his breath.

“Maybe we should order take-out,” Miguel suggested.

“I’ll dial.” Jared reached for his phone.

* * * *

The back of the tavern was quiet, except for the distant drone of traffic and the occasional creak of the overhead branches. Jared flopped down onto an overturned milk crate, groaning loud enough to scare a bird pecking on the ground by the dumpster.

Three hours.

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