She couldn’t help but smile.
“Okay. No biscuits. Eat up.”
She was about to ask Patrick if he needed help getting his food, when he held his plate up, and Galen began scooping some roast and veggies onto it.
“Enough?” Galen asked, and Patrick nodded.
Galen then passed the platter to Myka and waited until she was finished before filling his own plate. She couldn’t deny he had great manners.
“Patrick, don’t forget your salad.”
“Aw, I don’t want none,” he scoffed.
“It’ll help you grow big and strong,” Galen said before flexing his bicep at him.
Patrick’s eyes widened, and he piled some lettuce high on his plate before smothering it in dressing. She wished she was able to convince Patrick to eat the things he didn’t necessarily want with that trick, but was sure her muscles weren’t anywhere near as convincing as Galen’s. After she and Galen got their salad, they began to eat. When Galen took his first bite, his eyes closed, and he groaned.
“Something wrong?” she said in alarm.
His hazel eyes opened, and the force of his stare slammed into her.
“Sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a meal this incredible.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “There’s plenty. Don’t be shy. I have pie for dessert.”
“Pie? Ohhhh. I think I’m in heaven,” Galen answered.
Myka’s tummy warmed with contentment at the compliment.
“That’s where Daddy is,” Patrick said before cramming some roast into his mouth.
Galen cast a quick glance at Myka before taking another bite.
“Heaven is lucky to have him,” Galen said.
Myka’s tension drained as easily as it had mounted when Patrick seemed satisfied with Galen’s comment. The rest of dinner was fairly quiet, her attention captured by the amount of food Galen ate. She and Patrick usually had loads of leftovers from pot roast night, but now barely enough remained for one plateful—which was a good thing in her opinion since she wouldn’t have to figure out how to get it all eaten before it went bad. She hated wasting food.
After Galen and Patrick helped her clean off the table, she cut pieces of peach pie for them all.
“Can I watch cartoons while I eat my pie?” Patrick asked.
“You know we don’t watch television while we eat, right?”
He frowned and shook his head.
“But I’ll let you do it this one time.”
“Woo hoo!” Patrick jumped up and carried the pie as fast as he could without spilling it toward the living room.
“He’s a great kid,” Galen said before taking a bite of the pie.
This time when he closed his eyes and moaned, she forced back a giggle.
“He is a great kid. Would you like some coffee?”
“If it’s not an inconvenience.”
“None at all.” She poured them both a cup before sitting back down. “You have a way with him,” she said before taking a bite.
Galen said nothing. As far as she could tell thus far, he wasn’t a man of many words. Some might take that as a sign that he was hiding something, and he very well could be for all she knew. He had an edge about him that she couldn’t quite describe. It was as if his quietness was deliberate. Deliberate for what reason she wasn’t sure. If she had to take a guess, she’d say that he did it to blend into the background.
Even when he’d approached her from the tree line, he’d had a way with his body language. He was one of those rare people who could communicate with his actions in a way that was natural and unnoticeable until scrutinized. People spoke volumes with body language regularly, but most didn’t realize they were doing it. On the other hand, most didn’t pick up on it either, so reliant on technology for communication in this day and age.
Galen didn’t strike her as a guy who’d give much notice to today’s gadgets and technology. He reminded her of a predator who relied solely on instinct. She didn’t understand why she thought all of this about someone she’d only just met, and chastised herself for jumping to conclusions about him when she had no idea if anything she was thinking was true. Judging people without knowing them was one of man’s great downfalls.
“Where are you from?” she asked.
She watched him for any hint that he might be in trouble or running. That question would make most who were flinch or give some telltale sign that it was a touchy subject. Galen didn’t miss a beat as he forked the last bite of his pie into his mouth.
“All over,” he said.
“Well that narrows it down,” she said before sipping her steamy black coffee from her favorite red mug.
He swallowed and trained his hazel eyes on her. After a couple minutes, she had to quell the urge to squirm under his gaze. The way he watched her was unsettling, but also managed to start a slow fire burning in her belly.
Galen watched Myka. She tried hard to conceal the discomfort she felt under his gaze, but he was an expert at reading people. Her questions weren’t meant to be nosy. He was sure of it. Strangely, he wished he could tell her everything about his life, including the current fucked-up predicament he was in. But he couldn’t.
He’d been in tune to his instincts and body every second of every day for as long as he could remember, but Myka had the ability to make him forget everything with one smile of her full, pouty lips. He wanted to throw her to the floor, rip her clothes off with his teeth, and claim her. But not only that. It wasn’t just about sex. He wanted to hold her in his arms, feel her snuggled against his chest as her breaths from their lovemaking evened out into sleep.
A slow ache had started in his chest when he’d first seen her, and now just a short time later, that ache had spread throughout every cell and into every limb. It was a yearning, a throbbing beat of need that would get stronger every day.
He was lonely, and now that he’d found his mate, all he wanted was a chance to love her, to make her love him. He didn’t have that luxury. If he lost focus, if he slipped up, he could place her in danger. Being here in itself was risky, and he should simply disappear from her life and move on tonight. But he was a predator, and his wolf wanted its mate nearly as bad as his human side did. He was an ancient. His instincts were sharpened by experience, and if he kept his head on straight, he could have this stolen, precious time with her without putting her in danger.
“Myka.” Her name tasted as sweet on his lips as he knew she would. “I’m not in trouble with the law.”
That wasn’t entirely a lie. He wasn’t in trouble with the law. His trouble involved something far deadlier than the justice system. If he could only explain to her what he was, but he could not open his world to her since he had no intention of claiming her. Maybe one day he’d be able to clean up the mess he was in and come back for her, but this was not that time, no matter how much his soul, his heart screamed that they didn’t care. They wanted her at any cost.
He couldn’t risk her life, and he couldn’t forget about Patrick either. The boy was smart and intuitive. He’d liked him instantly, and Patrick’s curiosity had been an indication that he liked Galen as well. He doubted it would be easy to get close to Patrick with the recent loss of his father. While Galen was fond of Patrick, would have no problem being a father to him, he didn’t want to encourage the relationship only to end up hurting the kid in the end.
“Oh! I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay. You have every right to ask that of me. After all, I am a stranger, and I’m staying at your place.” He leaned back in the chair. “I’m a private man, but I give you my word that I will never do anything to hurt you or Patrick. I will work hard for you, and I will watch over both of you while I’m here.”
She smiled at him, and his heart nearly leaped up in his throat. Damn but she was beautiful. And tiny. She was so small he was worried she might break if he bumped into her. He had a foot and a half on her, and he had to be careful not to let his wolf get too rambunctious. The fact that he could hurt her so easily scared the hell out of him.