Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 39650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
It was one hug, and a fast one at that. It wasn’t a big deal, or at least it shouldn’t have been. But Simon knew what he’d been feeling and thinking when he pressed himself to Mitch’s large, warm body. Those same thoughts had occupied his mind more and more with each passing day.
Every time the caring Alpha smiled at him or laughed with him or listened with rapt attention to something he had to say, Simon wanted to crawl on top of him and rub himself over hot skin and hard muscles. But Mitch stuck to the promise he’d made Simon on his second day there—no matter how much Simon stared at him or did his best to flirt with him, Mitch remained hands-off. The man’s honorable personality was in equal parts a source of frustration and relief.
On the one hand, Simon constantly felt primed for something. On the other hand, he wasn’t entirely sure what the something was. Plus, he remained frightened of what could happen if he gave Mitch the go ahead to do whatever he wanted.
Simon was healthier than he’d been in years. He was well-fed and well-rested. But he didn’t kid himself by believing he’d come out ahead in a physical battle with Mitch. If anything, the past few weeks had shown him how truly powerful Mitch was, and Simon realized Mitch would make a more formidable opponent than he ever could have imagined.
But when Mitch smiled at him, his dark eyes warm and fond, Simon found it impossible to think of him as an opponent and instead considered him the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend. And that was the kind of thinking that had led him to surprise himself, and probably Mitch, by jumping the man.
“It was a hug,” he said to the empty room. “Quit fixating on it. You have work to do.” He paused and sighed deeply. “And now you’re talking to yourself.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes at his own folly. “Great way to prove you’re strong and capable.”
Unwilling to waste valuable time with his increasingly silly worries, Simon stepped over to the bed and focused on the task he’d laid out for the day. He’d go through everything in Mitch’s closet, clean what needed cleaning, set aside anything that seemed like it was no longer being used, and neatly organize the rest.
Of all the jobs he’d had over the years, not a single one gave him the sense of deep satisfaction he got from the projects he’d been doing in the cozy cabin. The kitchen was the first room he’d tackled and it’d taken the most time. He’d tested countertop appliances, matched covers to storage containers, scrubbed stains off knives, looked for expiration dates on every item in the pantry and refrigerator, and organized drawers, cabinets, nooks, and crannies. After that, he’d worked on the laundry room. And now he was starting on the bedroom.
Mitch seemed genuinely grateful for Simon’s efforts, but the truth was, Simon derived immense pleasure from it. When he turned off his head and his worries, he got lost in the tasks and caught himself whistling and smiling while he worked. He would have been embarrassed at his silliness, but nobody knew about it. Well, nobody except Mitch. Given how intuitive he was, and how closely he watched Simon, he probably knew Simon loved putting his mark on the small cabin.
When he’d made an acceptable dent in his work, Simon glanced at the clock, calculated how much time he had before lunch, and decided to take a break and get the food ready. Mitch would be hungry when he got back from the store, and though Simon had been so well-fed that he couldn’t describe himself as having been hungry at any point after the first day he’d arrived at the cabin, he’d probably be able to eat soon. Mitch liked seeing him eat.
Red meat was by far Mitch’s favorite meal and as wolves they could eat more of it than humans, but Simon was sure there had to be a limit on what was healthy so he tried to save it for dinner. Based on his careful observation of Mitch’s reactions to the food he prepared, he felt confident that chicken and turkey were acceptable substitutes so he generally prepared those for lunch.
Chicken salad was on his menu for the day. He got the leftover chicken, celery, carrot, onion, and grapes out of the fridge and began chopping. The front door opened just as he added a final pinch of salt into the mixture he’d stirred together. After quickly drying his hands with the kitchen towel tucked into his waistband, Simon hurried to the door.
“Hi,” he said to Mitch, whose arms were full of bags. “Want me to carry some of those?”