All the rest of the day, I feel Jackson’s thoughtful gaze on me when he’s not busy talking with contractors. Meanwhile, I send another text to Talis, who still hasn’t told me who put me to bed.
During lunch that we eat together in the kitchen, I turn and find him looking poised to speak, only he doesn’t, just shakes his head and goes back to eating the sandwiches I made for us.
Later, I heat and package up a large serving of the ragu and pasta in plastic containers along with some of the cheesecake, bottles of water, and a plastic fork that I leave in a paper grocery bag on the porch.
I have no idea if he’ll eat as a wolf or if he’ll shift and eat as a boy. Either way, I’d like for him to have the option to do both.
An hour later, when I go out to check, I find the bag gone.
It’s nearly four in the afternoon, and I’m in the kitchen trying to figure out what I want to make for dinner when I feel a gaze on my back.
When I turn, I find Jackson leaning in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. “You cooking again?”
I nod and go back to scanning the contents of the refrigerator for inspiration. “Yeah. I know we could probably just eat leftovers, but I want to make something nice for-” I stop because I hadn’t intended on telling him about the boy, even though I suspect Jackson was listening to everything I said to him.
“The boy?”
I nod again. “He said he liked his steak cooked, so I thought I could make steak, potatoes, and something green cause veggies are important. I don’t think he’ll like salad, but maybe broccoli?”
“Boys don’t like broccoli,” Jackson says, with a smile in his voice.
I turn around. “They might.”
Jackson shakes his head. “No. They don’t.”
“Just because you didn’t, doesn’t mean-” I stop talking at the brief flash of pain in his eyes.
He raises his eyebrow. “What?”
“What do you mean?”
“You just stopped talking. What is it? Do I have something on my face?”
I turn back to the refrigerator because I need a second. If I’m not careful, Jackson’s going to realize I keep acting weird whenever he has a painful memory and put two and two together. “Nothing, I just decided I’ll add bacon to the broccoli, he’ll have to like it then. You want some cheesecake?”
“Since when did we have cheesecake?”
“Since I made it yesterday.”
Although I feel Jackson’s approach, I don’t take my head out of the refrigerator because the truth of the matter is I’m still hiding.
“Regan?”
“Uh-huh?” I pick up a bottle of milk and pretend to check it hasn’t expired.
“The boy.”
It hasn’t. I put the milk back and reach for the block of provolone since you never can be too careful with cheese. “What about the boy?”
“You know, he could be dangerous,” Jackson says in a voice completely devoid of expression. “Since he’s been spending more time as a wolf than a boy.”
I feel my anger surge. I shove the cheese back in without checking the expiry date and spin around. “He’s not dangerous,” I snap.
Jackson is leaning against the island with a neutral expression on his face. “And you know this how?”
I open my mouth, ready to tell him I know, but then I stop. I can hardly tell him he’s so filled with pain that I know he’s no threat to me.
“Because he’s a boy,” I say.
Jackson raises his eyebrow. “Because he’s a boy?”
I nod firmly. “Yes.”
“Boys can be dangerous.”
“Yes, they can,” I admit. “But this one isn’t. What makes you think he’s dangerous? Do you think he’s responsible for the trouble at the building site?”
Jackson considers it before shaking his head. “Doubt it. I didn’t pick up any scent other than wolves-real wolves-but maybe you should-”
“No.” I start for the hallway. “If you don’t want to help him, then that’s up to you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t.”
Jackson’s hand closes around my wrist and he hauls me right back.
His gaze searches my face. “You know, if you keep leaving him food he’ll keep coming back.”
I tilt my head to meet his gaze. “That’s the point.”
“So, what? You want him to come back and then what? You’ll take him in and-”
I tug my hand, so he knows to release me, only he doesn’t. “If he wants to stay, that’s great. I’m not forcing him to do anything he doesn’t want to. But if you don’t want him to stay, then that’s fine, too. He can come back to Hardin with me.”
Jackson’s expression becomes even more unreadable than ever. “You’ll take him to Hardin?”
I nod. “He’s a boy, and he needs a home. Probably he hasn’t had one in a long time, maybe that’s why he stays a wolf, because it’s safer. But he can’t forever, and he doesn’t have to. I’m sure once I talk to Dayne and explain the situation, he’ll let the boy stay in a cabin if he’s not ready to stay in the pack house.”
“You’re not talking to Dayne about the boy.”
I glare at him. “Yes, I am. Just because you don’t want-” His phone ringing cuts me off and Jackson growls in frustration.
He tugs it out of his pocket and glances at the caller ID. “I have to get this. You heard me, Regan, leave Dayne out of this. We’ll talk later.”
Before I can argue, he drops my arm and walks out, answering the phone as he goes.
Looks like it didn’t take long for the alpha dick to make his appearance.
The fury I feel at his refusal to accept the boy needs help is unreal.
But since Jackson has left the kitchen, there’s no reason for me to, so I spin around and start looking for something to bake.
We never do continue our conversation because Jackson’s phone calls last into the evening, and I end up eating alone.
I leave another grocery bag filled with steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, broccoli, and more cheesecake for the boy on the porch. And for Jackson, I leave a plate in the oven with a post-it note on the door so he knows it’s there, and go up to bed.
I don’t know what time Jackson comes up to bed because I’m asleep long before he does.