Chapter Six

Growing up on the streets, Ian had survived. Facing down enemies who had it in their thick skulls that they couldn't be taken down, Ian had put them on their asses. Proving he had what it took to not only compete in preternatural snowboarding competitions but work his way to the top and make millions, Ian had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.

So far in life, nothing had been able to defeat his fierce stubbornness or relentless determination.

Sitting at the kitchen table with two tiny women staring at him, Ian was utterly terrified.

Family was the one unquenchable longing he couldn't seem to attain. It was an unending search for a sense of belonging and connection, but it constantly slipped through his fingers.

Now, after nearly two and a half centuries, it was within his grasp. All he had to do was not royally screw this up, which would be a miracle given how his brain had become a malfunctioning lightbulb whenever Myla or Inez asked him a simple question. It was like his mind was playing a cruel game of freeze tag and he was "it."

"Ian?" Myla frowned. "Did you hear what I just said?"

"I must have missed it." He cleared his throat. "Would you mind repeating it?"

She pursed her lips, her hazel eyes filled with concern. "I said I'm terribly sorry for upsetting you. That wasn't my intention."

"You had no way of knowing," he replied as his gaze landed on the oven mitt hanging by the stove.

Jace's foot tapped against Ian's, reminding him of their dinner at Deep Dish when he'd done that same thing to him.

Inez rose from the table and sauntered out of the kitchen. A moment later she returned with a shot glass filled with a clear liquid and set it in front of Ian. "Drink up, honey, and you'll be more chill than a sloth in a hammock."

"Grandma!" Jace palmed his face and groaned. "Please stop trying to get Ian drunk."

"Really, Inez?" Myla shook her head in exasperation. "You're giving him tequila for breakfast? I want him to relax, not dance on the table."

"Ignore them, honey. Tequila is the solution to all life's problems." Inez patted her frail hand on Ian's shoulder. "It'll get rid of that frightened look in your handsome eyes."

Ian tossed the drink back and hissed. Although human alcohol wouldn't get him wasted, it still burned his throat.

"If you want another, we can sneak off to the sunporch and get pickled." She pinched his cheek before resuming her seat. "The offer doesn't expire, Ian." She looked at Jace. "Don't forget my peanut butter cookies, dearie."

"If I could afford to, I'd buy you a couple cases since you go through them so quickly." Jace dug into his hashbrowns, which had a light layer of ketchup on top.

As Ian ate, he noticed that his mate wasn't introverted or anxious around his family. He seemed so at ease, effortlessly engaging in conversation. While Ian adored Jace's shyness, seeing his mate's carefree side was just as charming.

"What's your favorite cookie, Ian?" Inez asked.

Jace bumped legs with him.

"I really don't have a favorite, but I'm partial to oatmeal raisin," Ian replied. "My sweet tooth leans more toward cake paired with a glass of cold milk."

Inez's wrinkled lips formed a pout. "Now I'm craving cake and milk. Jace, can you be a sweetie and pick me up a cake from the store and a quart of milk?"

"I'll see what they have on sale." Jace wiped his mouth with his napkin. "You can also get cake by the slice, although those selections are limited."

"Just make sure it isn't dry." Inez picked up the pack of cookies next to her and shook it. "I can't believe I ate two boxes in two days. I need to hide some from myself so I have a secret stash."

Jace chuckled. "You can't hide something from yourself because you'll know where it is."

Ian rested his arm on the back of Jace's chair. Even tepid, his food had been delicious. He was full from eating every last bite. "Thank you for breakfast, ma'am."

"Myla," she corrected with a stern expression that held no malice. "You're welcome at our table anytime, Ian."

If she only knew what a profound impact her open invitation had on him. Ian offered a small, closed-mouth smile and a nod, struggling to contain the emotions welling up within him.

"You're always welcome to a shot or two of tequila as well." Inez stood and picked up her plate.

Ian jumped to his feet and took it from her. "Let me get that for you."

"What a perfect gentleman." She squeezed his bicep then whispered, "Do my grandson right, young man."

"You have my word," he whispered back, overwhelmed by the love and warmth that radiated within their home.

When Jace began to clear the table, Ian pitched in. They stood next to each other washing dishes, his mate stealing glances as their hands touched.

"How'd I do?" Ian asked in a hushed tone so he wasn't overheard, though he had no idea where the women had wandered off to.

"They like you." Jace's smile wavered as he handed Ian a soapy frying pan.

"But?" Ian thought the morning had gone well despite the fact he'd briefly walked out. Maybe he was mistaken and Jace was simply being polite to avoid hurting his feelings.

"I…" Jace trailed off, his hands submerged in the soapy dishwater.

"You don't have to spare my feelings. I gave it a shot." Ian set the pan in the dishrack. That sense of belonging had once again slipped through his fingers. He should have known better than to open himself up to hope.

"That's not it." Jace shook his head. "I just—" He glanced up at Ian, apprehension in his eyes. "My mom and grandma really like you." Jace looked away. " I really like you, Ian. A lot. Like, a lot, lot. And I just want to… No, I need to know if we're just friends who fool around or…"

Ian shut off the water then turned his mate to face him. "This isn't a casual thing for me, kitten. It's definitely going somewhere." He grabbed the tea towel so Jace could dry his hands. "I'd really like to talk to you in private. That's why I wanted you to come to my house."

"I have to make a store run." Jace set the towel aside.

"I'll buy your grandmother two cases of cookies and a rich, decadent cake if you say yes." Ian needed to tell Jace that they were mates and he was a black panther. It was getting harder and harder to suppress his purrs around the guy.

Ian didn't want to hide anything from Jace. In a short period of time, the human had come to mean so much to him. But that was how things worked in Ian's world. A preternatural didn't feel whole without their other half.

"I'll admit I'm nervous, but you don't have to bribe me to come to your house." Jace slid the last of the dishes into the sudsy water.

"What makes you uneasy?"

"Being completely alone with you."

Ian stopped Jace from washing the silverware, once again turning his mate to face him. "Do you think I invited you to my house so I could hurt you?"

It tore Ian apart to even consider such a thought.

"No." Jace's eyes widened. "I didn't mean for you to take it that way."

"Then what do you mean?" Ian stroked his thumb over Jace's cheek, brushing away a stray water droplet. "I'm just trying to understand why you're nervous to be alone with me."

They'd already been intimate, so Ian doubted that was the issue.

"Because I'm me," Jace finally said, and then the words poured out. "I overanalyze. My brain goes blank. My insecurities and anxiety overwhelm me. I constantly wonder what you see in me and then fret that you'll get tired of dealing with my craziness and walk away." He took a deep breath as if he'd run a marathon.

Ian had no idea anyone could talk that fast.

"It felt good to say all that out loud." Jace's shoulders relaxed as if a weight had lifted and he could finally take a breath of fresh air. "To be honest, I'm convinced you're a narcotic."

"How so?" Ian frowned.

"Every time you touch me my anxiety levels lower. Like you're doing now." Jace bounced his shoulders. Ian's hands rose and fell with his arms. "I feel like an addict needing a fix when you're not touching me, and that probably sounds creepy so I shouldn't be telling you that."

Ian's gaze skipped over Jace's face. His mate felt the pull. Felt their connection. That was why he calmed down when Ian touched him.

"That's a lot to unpack, kitten. I don't want to rush through any of it, so why don't we finish up here, make that store run, then head to my place so we can pick this back up?" Ian suggested with a lift of his eyebrow.

"I freaked you out." Jace tried to break the hold by wiggling his arms, but Ian kept a firm grip.

"Not by a longshot. I'd just rather discuss this at my place." He looked toward the kitchen entrance. "My gut tells me our conversation isn't as private as we think."

Myla's and Inez's dual scents had suddenly flooded Ian's senses, indicating they were close enough to hear every word.

"Then let's finish the dishes." Jace scrubbed the silverware, setting it all on Ian's side of the sink. When they were done, he helped Jace wipe down the counters and table, sweep the floor, and take out the trash.

"We're heading to the store," Jace called out. "Be back in a minute."

"We can take my ride." Ian couldn't wait to get home and shower. He'd been wearing his clothes since yesterday. He'd slept in them, gotten some spunk in his underwear, his shirt was wet from washing dishes, and specks of dirt clung to him from sweeping the floor and dealing with the trash. "Grab a change of clothes when we get back from the store if you want to shower at my house, butt quack."

"I'm burning those underwear," Jace groaned as they walked out the front door.

Ian chuckled. "That won't remove that image from my head. I'm going to frame them and hang them in my bedroom."

"You can't be serious," Jace grumbled.

They slid into Ian's Navigator. "Every time I look at them, I'll think of the amazing morning we had on your carpet."

Jace blushed deeply as Ian pulled away.

* * * *

Jace drove his Camry, following behind Ian's Navigator. At first, he thought Ian had taken a wrong turn onto a private driveway, with all of the dense trees looming around them.

But Jace's brows shot up when they gave way, revealing a breathtaking home nestled among the trees.

The canopies loomed over the one-story flat-roofed home that was constructed of dark plank wood, accented with brick columns and walls in varying shades of gray. Floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the surrounding foliage, making it seem like the house was a natural extension of the forest.

The dark plank flat deck, which seemed to be around ten feet wide and thirty feet long, was flush with the grass, a small edge separating the two, making it appear seamlessly blended into the natural landscape.

On the deck was light gray furniture, complete with puffy cushions. Enormous potted plants were strategically placed between the couch and large chair.

Jace couldn't even begin to imagine how much it must have cost to own such a luxurious property. Ian had said he'd been a pro snowboarder for ten years. It must have paid well if he owned this property.

Jace parked next to Ian on the side of the house where a three-car garage stood. It was made of the same dark plank and varying shades of gray. No glass.

Totally thrown, Jace got out and just stood there taking everything in.

It's just a house. Beautiful, but just a house.

"This way." Ian led him around the garage and onto the deck.

Jace inhaled the pine scent from the forest as Ian opened the front door and led him inside.

"You don't lock your door?" If Jace owned it, he would have about fifteen different locks, booby traps, and a pack of guard dogs roaming around.

"I used my phone to unlock it."

Technology never ceased to amaze Jace. Smart homes, smart cars, smart appliances in a world that still couldn't figure out how to stop chips from getting stuck in vending machines.

When Jace walked inside, he found the interior was just as stunning. The place smelled good, too.

"You have a pet?" Jace asked when he saw a few short, black hairs on the tan couch cushion. He doubted it was a dog since Ian had been with him since yesterday.

"I tend to shed." Ian went into the open-area kitchen and grabbed two bottled waters from his refrigerator.

Shedding didn't make any sense since Ian had light brown hair. It was a little darker in some places, but it definitely wasn't black.

"Here." Ian handed him one of the waters.

Jace took it while fighting an urge to leave. Ian's home was beautiful, but unfamiliar. It was too pristine. No folded laundry on the end of the couch or throw pillows fallen to the floor. No spices congesting the counter because his mom was cooking. No shoes placed neatly on the steps, though, to be fair, Ian didn't have any steps.

Jace's house was cozy chaos, a sense of warmth and liveliness filling the space. Ian's house reminded him of a showroom, meticulously organized, creating an unnerving sense of order.

That wasn't fair. Not everyone enjoyed cozy messiness and not everyone liked immaculate and polished to a shine. Jesus. The glossy floors reflected a lot of sun.

Ian took his hand and led him to the couch. Jace sat stiffly on the edge, afraid to mess anything up.

"How bad is it getting?" Ian touched Jace's back.

"You can tell?" He turned and concentrated on whiskey-colored eyes. The warmth and depth. The concern overflowing in their richness.

"I've had snowboards less stiff than you are right now." Ian pulled Jace backward into the crook of his side then circled his arms around him.

Jace breathed out slowly, trying to relax the rigidness away, hating what he'd become.

Too afraid to let go and enjoy life. Breaking out into a cold sweat whenever he opened his mouth. The way his family sometimes looked at him as if missing the carefree boy he once was.

Jace missed that boy, too.

He just didn't know how to get back to his former self.

"There you go, kitten." Ian rested his cheek against Jace's head. "Do you want to talk about what brought on your anxiety?"

Did Jace really want to tell him that polished floors, lack of dust, and glass so clear it looked invisible had caused it? Who in their right mind freaked out over showroom cleanliness?

Apparently he did.

But he wanted to be honest with Ian. "Your sparkling-clean house. I want to run into your kitchen and place a can on your counter so it isn't so perfect."

When Ian leaned forward, his solid body pushed Jace up too. He took Jace's hand and led him into the kitchen then opened his cupboards. "Un-perfect my house to your heart's content."

Jace snatched a can of…was he holding SpaghettiOs? They were definitely splitting that. He set the can down then grabbed two more, placing one on the glass-and-chrome table—Ian seemed to like glass—and the third by the sink.

"That's it?" Ian arched a brow.

"Now I want to put them away because they're making your kitchen look messy."

Ian leaned his butt against the edge of the marble counter and crossed his arms. "It's just me here, Jace," he said softly. "No amazing women cluttering up the kitchen with delicious meals and laughter. No family photos adorning the walls, reminding me of happier times. Most importantly, I don't have you here leaving traces of yourself all over the house. What you see around you is a reflection of my life. Luxurious, but devoid of love and happiness and everything else that makes a home or heart burst with joy."

Jace blinked back tears. "I didn't… You want that with…with me?"

The depth of emotions that had poured from Ian left Jace… He wasn't sure. Ian had said this wasn't casual for him, but Jace had no idea the guy felt that strongly about him.

"I want a lifetime of what you gave me earlier."

"A blowjob?" Jace doubted that was what Ian meant.

The side of Ian's mouth curved upward. "Definitely, but I was referring to breakfast. Sitting around the table, the connection I felt in that room, the radiating warmth that overflowed, and the gift of you sharing your family with me." He pushed away from the counter and approached Jace. "Waking up to your soft body tucked against mine. Finding you on the floor as your shorts attack you. A sense of peace I haven't felt in…ever."

"You make our crazy morning sound dreamy." Jace swallowed, unable to deny that he craved that, too. He could already imagine his clothes scattered all over the floor in the bedroom, making the space as much his as Ian's. Spread naked across the couch on the deck as Ian made love to him. Creating a mess in the kitchen as they cooked a meal together.

"It was the best morning I've ever had." He led Jace back to the couch. "There's just one important matter we have to discuss. The reason I wanted privacy."

"What important matter?"

Jace sat, but Ian didn't. He stood a few feet away, tapping his thumb against his thigh.

"I need to tell you why there's pet hair on the couch."