Page 72 of Slow Heat
“Campus seems to be the nexus of all my most important relationships.” Vale shot Jason a teasing look.
An awkward silence descended for a terrible second, but then Rosen bustled over with serving dishes full of delicious smelling food.
“This looks amazing, Rosen,” Jason said. “Are you a chef?”
“Rosen is a philosopher, an artist,anda chef,” Vale said, smiling at Jason while Urho cut the roast duck and Yosef passed the bowl of fragrant stuffing.
“Yes, Rosen is quite talented,” Yosef said warmly. “I hope you’re not opposed to ordering out for food, Jason. Your omega here is a terrible cook.”
“Oh, don’t start,” Vale said.
“He’s worse at cooking than he is at keeping house.” Urho dug into the bird with the carving knife.
Father made prettier cuts and so did Jason, but he wasn’t going to say anything negative about Urho. Everyone probably already thought Jason was resentful of him for having been Vale’s alpha during heats. And he was. But he wasn’t going to let that rule the rest of his life with Vale. Clearly Urho wasn’t going anywhere, so he might as well make peace with it.
“I like to cook.” Jason took the stuffing bowl from Rosen and added a pile to his plate. The scent of rosemary and sage wafted up, making his mouth water. “Though I can’t claim to be as skilled as Rosen, I’ll be capable of keeping us fed, I think.”
Vale’s brows lifted in interest. “Oh?”
“As I told Vale the other day, Father doesn’t keep house servants all the time. Too many people in his space, Pater says. They like their privacy. Father only hires them in for parties and special dinners. Otherwise, we take care of ourselves.”
“So your pater is a good cook then?” Yosef asked.
“No, Father is the one who makes most of our meals. Pater is sick a lot and…” He wondered for the first time if Pater’s weakness would reflect badly on him. “Pater doesn’t cook.”
“So your Father learned to in his place?” Urho asked.
Jason frowned. He hated the implication that it was always the omega’s job to provide for the alpha in the home. Certainly alphas were usually the main breadwinners, and most well-to-do omegas ran the household, but those of lesser means often worked outside the home in whatever way they safely could. Besides, even the wealthy omegas did more than simply run a house. They were people. They had interests of their own.
Take Vale, for example. Left to his own devices, he was clearly not the stereotypical omega alphas were taught to expect, and Jason had it on good authority from Pater and Father that omegas came in all stripes of human, just as alphas did. Pater had always argued that it was appalling to strip omegas of everything but house duties. Father had never demanded it of Pater, and Jason wouldn’t demand it of his omega, either. If Vale wanted to return to teaching after they’d contracted, consummated, and bonded, then he’d make sure that was an option for him. He’d make sure Vale got whatever he wanted.
“Not exactly. Father loves cooking and Pater loves to eat what he makes. It made sense for them to stick to the part they most enjoy.”
Vale grinned at him and Jason’s heart grabbed hard like a fist. He wanted to see that pleased smile again as soon as possible.
“Did your father teach you, then?” Rosen passed a basket of bread while Urho finished piling a massive serving plate high with half-destroyed slices of duck.
“He did. Whenever Pater is ill…” Jason trailed off again, but Vale caught his eye and smiled warmly, encouraging him to go on. “When Pater is ill, which is more and more often, unfortunately, Father calls me in to assist him, and I’ve picked up a lot. When Father is away for business, I cook for Pater and myself.” He shrugged. “I make a lot of casseroles because they’re easy for leftovers.”
“My pater used to make a divine hot crab casserole,” Vale said. “It was my favorite.” His plate was filled with Rosen’s cranberry sauce, the stuffing, a huge helping of duck that Urho had placed there directly, green beans, and several rolls.
Jason accepted the serving plate of duck, put several thick pieces on his plate, and sent it on to Yosef.
“If you lend me the recipe, I’ll make it for you, Vale,” he said, stomach tightening. He hoped Vale would accept his offer—as a courting gesture, and as a promise of what he could expect if a contract between them was made.
“Would you?” Vale’s smile crushed every beautiful thing in the world into a glorious, aching ball in Jason’s chest. He was going to break from joy if he wasn’t careful.
“Of course.”
“I’d have made it for you if I’d known,” Rosen said, a disgruntled note in his voice, and his dark brows lowered.
Vale waved his suggestion away, not taking his eyes from Jason, making that beautiful ball in Jason’s chest glow and grow. “You’re a wonderful cook, Rosen. Too good for casseroles.”
“Are you calling your alpha’s skills and tastes plebian?” Urho asked with a laugh in his tone.
“It looks that way,” Vale said, grinning and twinkling at Jason.
Jason smiled back, and as his cheeks and neck grew hot, the ball in his chest exploded in shimmery, screaming joy. He tore his eyes from Vale’s before he did something stupid like shove back his chair, stride over, and kiss his smiling mouth.
