As Galen walked by her into the kitchen, butterflies danced in her stomach. He looked extra mouthwateringly good tonight. Hell. Who was she trying to fool? He’d look mouthwatering in a burlap sack. She hadn’t seen a pair of jeans that didn’t like him yet. Every single pair he owned fit him like a glove and showed off his lean hips and strong thighs. Not to mention his perfect ass. She swallowed hard. Damn. She needed to stop drooling over him every time she saw him, and keep the bigger picture in mind. Galen would leave, and she needed to stay focused on taking care of Patrick.
“I thought we could make some spaghetti?”
“Mmm. One of my favorites,” Galen replied.
She got all of the ingredients out for the sauce, and they started working together to prepare the onion, tomato, and mushrooms.
“Tell me about your childhood, Myka. Was it happy?” he asked while chopping some onion.
“Yes. Travis was my only sibling. My mother and father were wonderful, loving parents. They had a knack for allowing us to find our own way in life while providing guidance and discipline where needed. I was curious about everything, especially reading. I love to read. Travis, on the other hand, seemed to attract trouble. He wasn’t a bad kid in any way, but continually found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Tell me about him,” Galen encouraged.
“He was five years older than me. He always watched out for me. Took care of me. Protected me like any good brother would. But I can’t say I’ve ever known anyone as accident-prone. By the time I was ten, he’d broken his arm, leg, nose, several ribs, and had had many other injuries due to mishaps. Nothing he really ever caused. Just bad luck, I guess. We all laughed and told him he was cursed. We even had a name for the curse: the Travisty.” She laughed and then swallowed hard.
“I thought he’d finally outgrown it a few years after he’d graduated high school. It caught back up to him six months ago. He worked his way up from the line to manager in a manufacturing plant. The workers loved him. He took care of them. Listened to any complaints they might have and tried to find amicable solutions. Treated them like family. One day there was a problem with one of the machines. He went down to help. It was shut off, every safety precaution had been taken, but somehow there was an electrical surge. The machine turned on. It took his arm off, and he bled to death. It was a freak accident.”
“I’m sorry, Myka.”
“Thank you. As the days roll by, I learn to cope with it a little better, but there are still days when I wake up and expect a phone call from Travis. And poor Patrick. Travis loved him something fierce. They were close. After Patrick’s mother left when he was a baby, Travis stepped up, and Patrick became his whole universe. It was hard for Travis at first. Trisha was the love of his life, and Patrick resembles her.”
“You’ve been good to Patrick. Not many aunts would take a nephew in like you did and care for him as their own.”
“I guess you are right. He’s come long way. Betty has worked wonders with him. I am thankful every day that she came into our lives.”
“Life has mysterious ways of providing what you need.”
“Yes. It does, doesn’t it? To make a long story short about my childhood, anyway, I had planned to go to college, but once Travis moved to Malta, I moved out here to be closer to him. Mom and Dad were both gone by then. Mom to cancer and Dad to a heart attack. Travis was the only family I had left. I immediately fell in love with this place when I found it. It’s been hard at times, but I’m happy here.”
Galen smiled.
“Enough about me, though. Tell me about your childhood.” She didn’t miss the way he stiffened. “Should I not have asked?” she said before putting the rest of the veggies he’d cut into the sauce and stirring it.
“My childhood was a long time ago.”
She laughed. “You make it sound like you are an old man. What are you, thirty-four? Thirty-five?”
“Something like that,” he snorted.
“Ah. A man prickly about his age. I thought women were usually the ones who were secretive about those kinds of things.”
“Uh-huh. My childhood was . . . different. You could say I lived in another time. I didn’t have loving parents. They were good people, don’t get me wrong, but my pack, um, family had different views on things. I wasn’t neglected or abused, but I had to grow up faster than most. By the time I was Patrick’s age, I was hunting for food. I didn’t go to school. But later, when I was on my own, I took it upon myself to get an education. I never went to college, but I was good with money. I spent a lot of time working with charities. The bad thing about working with money and those who have a lot of it is you start seeing the selfish, greedy side of people. Greed like you never thought possible. Greed that is unbelievable. After a while, I backed away from everything and kept to myself.”
“I’ve never had money, Galen, but I can see how money has the power to corrupt.”
“You have no idea, and I hope you never do. Anyway, let’s say that since taking a closer look at people and their twisted values, I’ve traveled from place to place experiencing the world.”
“That’s amazing. I would like to travel one day.” She sighed.
“Maybe you can.”
“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” She handed him a pot to fill with water for the noodles.
He filled the pot halfway with water from the tap, sat it on the stove, and she turned on the burner. After stirring the sauce again, she placed the noodles in the water.
While Galen didn’t particularly seem unhappy, or say he’d had a bad life, she felt sad for him. Had he always been by himself? Did he have friends? People who cared?
“Do you have any family now, Galen?”
“Kind of, but that’s a subject best left for later.”
Which meant he didn’t want to talk about it. She took the hint and left the subject alone for now.
“The sauce is smelling good.” She stirred the bubbling, thick sauce and let the rich aroma assault her nose with its wonderful flavor.
“It’s not the only thing smelling good,” he whispered.
She startled. He was behind her, and was sniffing her hair.
“How do you do that?” She put the lid back on the sauce, turned around, and scooted sideways so she didn’t end up burning her back on the stove when she leaned against the counter.
“Do what?”
“How does someone your size move around like you do?”
He raised a brow, and she snorted.
“You’re huge, and you don’t make a freaking sound when you walk. I didn’t even hear you come up behind me.” She frowned.
“I’m light on my feet.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s more than that. Maybe you were trained in the military or something?”
“No. No military. I don’t like to fight.”
She moved closer, sizing him up. “I believe that, but I bet you wouldn’t back down if push came to shove either.”
He pulled in a deep breath and stiffened.
“There’s something about you, Galen. Can’t quite put my finger on it, but from the first day I met you, you’ve had a way of communicating with your body. You aren’t like anyone else I’ve ever met. Your moves are deliberate. They almost have a stalking aura to them—although, I’m not sure that’s the right word to describe it. I don’t mean creepy stalking, just . . . I don’t know.” She shrugged.
“Do I scare you?”