Chapter Nine

I would have let him come in, but he was too much of a gentleman to do that. At least outside my dreams. And he clearly had more self-control than me since he kissed my hand and left me at the door. It was such an Old-World gesture, and it melted my knees. After he turned away, I had to brace myself on the doorframe for a moment to regain my aplomb. As if I'd ever had any of that. But it sounded like the kind of word people would use with hand-kissing.

I thought I'd never fall asleep with my mind racing the way it was, but the bed was so comfortable my eyes closed instantly, and before I knew it, the sun was pouring in my window and it was time to get up. Despite my desire to rush downstairs and meet with Bjorn again, I lay there a moment and let myself bathe in the warm, sensual dreams that had inhabited my night. He only kissed my hand in reality, but in the depths of my subconscious, he had come in and kissed me senseless, those blue eyes holding my gaze until mine fluttered closed of their own accord. Dream Bjorn undressed me gently, removing each item of clothing and folding it over the chair in the corner before moving on to the next. Then he had me stand there while he walked around me and took in my naked form.

Nobody ever made me feel this way. So vulnerable. So desired. When I thought my wobbly legs would give out, he eased me to sit on the bed and stepped back to undress himself. Now it was my turn to enjoy the show, as he revealed the body of a man who lived an outdoor life, tan lines and all. Although judging by what little of him was still pale, he usually wore no shirt and only shorts. And boots. I giggled at the fact his tan ended at his ankles.

"Be careful, omega," he warned. "I always wear boots because of chollas."

"I remember from my trip to the dude ranch," I told him. "They call them ‘jumping chollas,' don't they? Because they seem to fly right at you when you go by."

"Exactly."

And then he sat down next to me on the bed and the kissing started again. I wanted nothing more than everything he could offer me, and I returned his kisses with enthusiasm. My wolf had been chanting mate since we first saw him. He lifted his face, eyes fierce with passion, lips swollen from kisses. "I want you."

And there it ended.

Or at least my memory of the dream did. I supposed it was possible that more happened, but not likely. Sure, dreams did fade upon wakening, but I felt utter confidence that one involving this alpha would never disappear.

But, I'd already spent enough time reliving my imagination's version of a make-out session with him. And he was probably downstairs finishing up his breakfast now. Flinging back the covers, I jumped out of bed and headed for the en suite to get presentable.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived in the dining room to find it uninhabited. Disappointed, I chided myself for daydreaming when the reality was downstairs eating without me. But then I heard masculine laughter from the kitchen. Two voices talking… Leaving the dining room with its Victorian elegance behind, I made for the back of the house where I found Bjorn and Franklin standing by the stove.

"Hi." I stepped inside, feeling like I was interrupting something. "What smells so good?"

They both turned to face me, and I caught my breath, the remnants of the dream sending heat to my cheeks. "I'm teaching Franklin how to make my flapjacks. Or mostly. I make them on a griddle over hot coals usually." He winked. "Or hot rocks when griddles are not available."

"Wow, that sounds hard."

"Not so much. I would be glad to show you how to do it one day." Bjorn piled a few more steaming golden cakes onto a platter and brought it to the kitchen table. "Would you grab the maple syrup and butter?" He returned to fetch a tray of sizzling sausages from the oven, the sage scent making my mouth water.

I found what he'd asked for in the refrigerator and found room to place them beside a tray of sliced fresh fruit. "This is amazing. I don't know what to try first. I usually eat cold cereal at home."

"That's not a breakfast, omega." Bjorn tsked.

"Sometimes I eat it for lunch and dinner," I admitted.

The look the alpha gave me made me cringe. Franklin didn't even turn in my direction.

"It's vitamin fortified," I added. "And I have it with milk."

"Eat, omega." The growl in Bjorn's voice took the reaction to a whole different and much more interesting place inside me. "This is breakfast."

Even if I hadn't been hungry, or if the food hadn't smelled delicious, his rumble would have had me hurrying to obey. But nobody with a stomach could have taken a breath of air redolent of herbs and pork and golden-brown pancakes without wanting to eat them. So, I piled my plate, smeared softened butter over each of the four hotcakes, drizzled them and the sausage with syrup just like my dad used to, and dug in.

When we finished, Franklin refused to allow us to help clean up, instead handing us a backpack ingeniously fitted out as a cooler and shooed us away. "Your lunch and some cool drinks are in there. Perfect day for a hike to a local waterfall and a nice swim. I'll have dinner ready when you get back."

A hike and swim? Oh…not my forte. Give me a trip to the mall or a museum and I was in my element. Most shifters were best at outside. Just not this one.