Page 31 of The Alpha's Runaway Mate
“Eventually.” I set a plate on the counter and nod toward it. “Eat first. Argue about stolen shirts later.”
He laughs and pushes off the doorframe, crossing to me in a few long, easy strides. The air between us shifts, charged, familiar. When he reaches around me for a fork, his chest brushes my back, warm and solid, and my breath catches.
“Smells good,” he murmurs near my ear.
“I’m full of surprises.”
“Yeah,” he says, voice dipping low. “You are.”
He steals a piece of bacon straight from the pan, eyes never leaving mine. I shake my head and nudge him with my hip, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”
“Hungry,” he corrects, mouth curving. “For breakfast.” He pauses, gaze dropping. “Mostly.”
I shoot him a warning look over my shoulder. “You should eat before I throw you out there to fend for yourself.”
He grins, grabbing a stool at the counter. “Fine. But only if you sit and eat with me.”
I pour two mugs of coffee and slide onto the stool beside him. We eat in easy silence, the clink of forks and the hiss of the fire filling the quiet. It’s domestic in a way that feels foreign to me. Dangerous, because it feelsgood.
When he’s finished, Nolan leans back, crossing his arms behind his head, studying me. “You cook, you wear my clothes, you make my cabin smell like a home. You planning on ruining me?”
I meet his gaze, lips twitching. “Maybe.”
He laughs, a real, deep sound that hits me somewhere soft. Then he reaches across the counter and hooks a finger under the hem of his shirt, tugging me closer until I’m standing between his knees. His hands settle on my hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles through the thin fabric.
“Morning looks good on you,” he says quietly. “You look good here.”
My heart thuds so hard it almost hurts. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He kisses my wrist, eyes lifting to mine. “Think you’re trouble, Jessica McSwain.”
“Guess that makes two of us.”
He smiles, pulls me closer, and I melt right into him. The kiss starts slow, unhurried, coffee and smoke and something thattastes like forever if I’m not careful. His thumb traces my jaw, tilting my face until he can deepen it. Morning light glances across the floor, catching in his hair as the world narrows to just this, warmth, breath, and the steady rhythm of us.
I sigh into him, and he smiles against my mouth.
“Still think I’m impossible?” he asks, voice rough.
“Completely,” I whisper.
He kisses me again, harder this time, until the air hums between us. Then he rests his forehead against mine, breath mingling with mine.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Wouldn’t want to make this too easy.”
I laugh softly, but before I can say anything else, a hard knock rattles the door.
Nolan goes still. The change in him is instant, the easy warmth stripped away, replaced by sharp, alert focus. The Alpha.
He’s on his feet before I can move. “Stay here,” he says quietly, already crossing the room.
Another knock, heavier this time. Through the window, I catch a glimpse of a dark pickup idling outside, dust curling in the early light. A tall man climbs out, broad shoulders beneath a worn leather jacket. Something in the set of his jaw screams bad news.
Nolan opens the door halfway. “Grayson,” he says, voice low but edged. “What’s wrong?”
Grayson’s eyes flick past him, catching on me for half a second before locking back on Nolan. “Patrol found tracks along the ridge. Big ones. Fresh.”
Nolan’s expression tightens. “Bear or rogue?”
