Romance Rules for Werewolves (Charming Cove, #3)(44)

I left the boathouse and headed toward Lavender House, the takeaway bag gripped in my hand. I’d only made it a few steps when the door opened and Rafe stepped out. He was clearly leaving for the night, so I turned around and went back into the boathouse to set out dinner. I found plates and silverware in his small kitchen and laid the food on the table just as he was walking in.

He was soaking wet from the top of his head almost down to his knees, with his shirt plastered to the broad planes of muscles on his chest.

I laughed. “What happened to you?”

“Your house had some opinions about how I did the plumbing on the new kitchen sink.” He sounded grumpy, but I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t. Not very, at least.

“You were there all day without me? And you even did some plumbing?”

“Not well, it seems.” He gestured to himself.

“Thank you, though. I really appreciate it.” I gestured to the food. “And I brought dinner. But don’t—“

“Get used to it, I know.” He shot me a smile, then headed toward his bedroom. “I’m going to get cleaned up, and I’ll be out soon.”

“All right.” He hadn’t mentioned the roses, so I had to assume he hadn’t seen them. Thank fates for small favors.

Since it felt weird to sit and eat without him, I walked to the side of the building that contained his tools and the two unfinished boats. I lifted up the tarp that covered one of the two boats, then gasped. It was gorgeous. I’d never seen such beautiful and precise woodworking. And even though I wasn’t an expert, I could tell that this was something special.

No wonder my kitchen was coming along so quickly. It was child’s play for him.

“Finding anything you like?” His voice drew my attention toward the kitchen, and I looked up.

“Sorry, I was snooping.” I let the tarp drop back down. “But you’re crazy talented, Rafe.”

“I do all right.”

“Sorry I called it a hobby. I can see it’s not.”

He shrugged, but there was half a smile on his face. “Dinner smells great, thanks.”

“It’s the least I could do.” I used my power to call on Poa, knowing that she’d want her fish to be at least a little warm. If I let it cool too much, I’d surely face her wrath. When she didn’t come right away, I added the mental note that there was fish for her.

She appeared in the kitchen immediately, sitting on a chair.

“Seriously?” I asked her.

What? You expect me to eat on the floor?

“I would never. But don’t put your feet on the table.”

She harrumphed but did as I requested, keeping her feet on her plate as she dug into the fish. Rafe smiled down at her, and there was a genuine fondness in his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before.

“You like her, don’t you?” I asked as I approached.

Everyone likes me. She spoke without once slowing her eating.

“I do,” he said. “Always liked cats, but she’s special.”

Poa did a little shimmy.

Rafe and I ate, the table characterized by the initial silence of a good meal. Codswollop’s really was excellent, I realized. What did Charming Cove not have?

“Where were you today?” he asked after he finished his fish. “I thought it was just an errand.”

“It was, but it took longer than I thought.” I drew in a deep breath, both excited and nervous to tell him what I’d learned. “I think I can help you.”

“Help me?” He looked up, and then understanding dawned. “Last night wasn’t a dream.”

“Um, no. You told me everything. At least, I think it was everything.”

“It was.” He sighed heavily. “I really didn’t want to lay all that on you. It’s a lot.”

“It’s a hell of a lot, and it’s horrible. I can’t believe you’ve been living through that.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, and pretending otherwise doesn’t help.” I’d been pretending the same thing with my life, and it sure as hell hadn’t worked for me.

“Wait,” he said, his brow creasing as he thought. “If I told you the truth, does that mean your story was also true? I didn’t just dream that?”

“Unfortunately, you didn’t.” I winced.

“That bastard.” His words were a growl, and I smiled. I quite liked having a werewolf on my side.

“Ignore him,” I said. “He’s old news, and we’re focusing on you.”

“I’d rather focus on you.”

His tone made me blush. There was something more to it that made me think of long kisses and longer nights. His expression turned slightly chagrined, as if he realized how the words could be interpreted.

“Anyway,” I said, “let’s talk about what I did today.”

“All right. It was about me somehow?”

“It was. And about me. For the last ten years, I’ve been a bit of a loser witch.”

He glared. “Don’t call yourself that.”

I shrugged. “Why?”

“I don’t like the idea of anyone speaking negatively about you. Not even you.”

“Wow.” I sat back in my chair, surprised. “You’re not nearly as jerky as I thought.”