Chapter Eight

Zhang

As soon as I walked into the kitchen, the scent drew me to the oven. "Can I peek?"

Franklin beamed at me. "Go right ahead. I hope you like meat loaf."

I opened the door and drew in a full breath. "This is not like my dad's meat loaf."

"I do my best, but it's hard to match a memory." His smile was soft. "Your dad is a good cook, then?"

"Umm…" I remembered all the disaster dinners, charred meats from the grill, oatmeal the texture of cement, and meat loaf…well, that was inexplicable. "He is enthusiastic."

Franklin chuckled. "That's another way of saying things didn't always turn out that great?"

"No, but he tried his best. And none of us ate enough to get overweight, so that's a good thing, I suppose."

"There is that. But I hope you will enjoy what I prepared."

"If it tastes like it smells, I am sure I will." I took one more sniff and closed the oven. "What can I do to help?" I'd hoped to see Shane down here, but my rushed shower must have put me ahead of him.

"I have it all in hand. You're my guest."

"And I'm glad to help. Seriously, what can I do?"

"You can set the table if you like." He showed me where to find everything I needed and then set about preparing a rich brown gravy. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I will get right on it."

As I laid the table and Franklin finished cooking dinner, we talked back and forth through the doorway. He was such a nice guy and had a lot of interesting anecdotes about the area and his own history. Franklin's mate had died too young, and he ran this inn in tribute to his late mate's dream. I thought it was terribly sad that he'd lost his love but lovely that he'd chosen to run this beautiful place.

He didn't say anything about being a matchmaker. "So is Shane the only other guest here this weekend?" Subtle, Zhang.

"Yes. Just the two of you. How did you happen to share a ride? Do you already know each other?"

I paused, holding a fork in my hand, and waited for him to come in with a bowl of salad before replying. "Oh no. It was a happy coincidence."

He asked me a few more questions, and I filled him in on my trip and how we met at the airport and, a few minutes later, just as Franklin was bringing the last platter in, with the steaming bacon-wrapped meat loaf, Shane entered the dining room.

Dinner was delicious. Meat loaf, creamy mashed potatoes, carrots in a honey-butter sauce. A salad of delicate greens, strawberries, and pecans with a homemade vinaigrette. Even the rolls were house made, warm, crusty on the outside, tender on the inside. And the conversation was even better. Shane was a strongman in the real sense of the word. He competed even, and usually won. He didn't offer this information, but Franklin and I coaxed it out of him.

And when the last of the cinnamon apple pie with whipped cream disappeared between his lips, Shane groaned. "I don't eat sugar." He trailed a finger through a bit of cinnamony syrup on his plate and plopped it between his lips. "Ever."

"Really?" I so much wanted to suck that finger clean myself. "Well, everyone needs to break their own rules from time to time."

"Not me." He sounded so serious that I gave him a second look, but a rueful smile lifted his lips. "I tried to tell myself none of the rules apply while we are here, but it's hard when I am always in training."

"Then you definitely need a break." I hopped up from the table. "Let's get everything cleaned up and go do something."

"Oh no." Franklin stood as well. "You've done enough. Go!" He shooed us toward the front door. "If you go around back, there's all the open space in the world. You can go for a run or a walk or let your animals out to play."

"Would you like to do that, Zhang?" Shane asked. "Because it sounds like the perfect way to burn off calories."

"Sure." I'd do just about anything to spend more time with this alpha and get to know him better. "Let's go."

Shifters have an unspoken rule about when we strip down to shift. Unless you're involved with someone, you do not stare, but I couldn't help it. Everything about this man was sculpted and gorgeous, and I couldn't believe he was giving me the time of day, must less wanting to run with me.

His big cat would love to run, while my panda preferred to gambol and kind of roll around. But with the lion hard on his heels, he showed a speed I'd never known he had in him. It was so refreshing. The stars I'd watched from the observatory car wheeled above us until the canopy of the trees hid them, and we ran on into the night, finally looping back toward the inn. It was the best shift of my entire life, even if I would be sore by the next morning. It was worth every aching muscle just to be out there with him, my panda chanting mate and doing his very best to show off for the cat on our heels.