“I must have been more tired than I realized.” Wesley glanced up at the blue sky. “I hope I didn’t disrupt the day’s plans by sleeping in.”
“We didn’t expect you to arrive until sometime today, but we weren’t sure exactly when so we didn’t set a schedule.” Jobe walked over to Wesley and slowly reached for him. Last night Wesley had jerked away from his touch, but that was before they’d sat together and talked. Jobe hoped the time they’d spent getting to know each other had resolved whatever had put his mate’s hackles up. When Wesley remained motionless, Jobe relaxed and rested his palm on Wesley’s shoulder. “Besides, it can’t be much later than eight. I doubt anyone other than me would consider waking up now to be sleeping in.”
“I take it you’re a morning person.”
Wesley’s tone was light, teasing, maybe even happy. It soothed Jobe. Together, they walked toward the house.
“In my wolf form, I prefer running at night, but in this body”—Jobe pointed his hand toward his own chest—“I tend to rise with the sun. What about you?”
“You know, I’ve never thought about it. I go to sleep when I’m done with what needs doing and I wake up when there’s somewhere I need to be.”
“You’re flexible.”
“I probably wouldn’t have used that word to describe myself, but—” Tilting his head to the side, Wesley scrunched his eyebrows and pressed his lips together. “I’ve learned to adapt over the years, so at this point, it probably fits.”
“That’s so true,” Jobe said with a chuckle. He stopped by the planter bed adjacent to the porch, squatted down, and tore a few sprigs of mint from the herb garden. “When I was thirteen, I was absolutely sure about everything.” He straightened and climbed up on the porch. “It’s amazing how two decades of experience and learning can teach us how much we don’t know.”
“Oh, I didn’t say that,” Wesley said, keeping in step with him. “I’m as sure of what I need to do now as I was ten or twenty years ago.”
“Flexible but confident. Point noted.” Jobe entered the large living room and headed toward the kitchen. “Let’s see if you’re flexible enough…” He paused, glanced at Wesley, and quirked up one side of his lips. “Or maybe I should say confident enough, to share breakfast with me.”
“I’ve never received a meal invitation that sounded so much like a challenge,” Wesley said, playing along.
“We’ll be sharing a lot of meals together from now on. Keeping you on your toes will make it interesting.” Jobe hooked his foot around the base of one of the chairs beside the kitchen table, pulled it back, and pointed at it. “Have a seat.”
As Wesley lowered his long body onto the chair, he said, “You should know that I have a healthy appetite and almost no cooking skills so you’re not likely to scare me off with any food I don’t have to cook.”
“Let’s see if you still feel that way when I’m done.” Jobe set the mint on the counter, walked to the refrigerator, took out the milk, yogurt, and strawberries, and put them next to the cutting board. “Toss me a couple of avocados, would you?” He tilted his chin toward the oblong ceramic bowl in front of Wesley.
“Sure.” Wesley picked up an avocado, gently threw it into Jobe’s raised palm, and then did the same with another one. “I hate to criticize your cooking skills this early in our relationship, but are you using all those things for our breakfast?”
“Yes, these are going into our breakfast, but for this meal, I’m not technically cooking.” He pulled forward his blender. “I’m liquefying.”
“My instincts tell me I shouldn’t ask more questions.”
His mate was on his land, in his home, bantering with him. Jobe’s joy was so profound it needed a physical outlet, and while he longed for that to involve his mate’s touch, he settled for a wide smile instead. “Trust your instincts.” He pulled down a canister of flaxseed from the shelf above the window and the jar of oats from the cabinet.
“I’m six-two and I weigh a hundred and sixty pounds. You’re maybe an inch shorter and ten pounds lighter.”
When Wesley didn’t say anything else, Jobe looked back over his shoulder and arched his eyebrows. “What happened to not asking questions about the food?”
Grinning, Wesley said, “That was a statement, not a question.”
“Sure it was.” Shaking his head, Jobe turned back to the counter. “Don’t worry. Neither of us will leave my kitchen hungry.” He chopped the avocados and strawberries and dropped them into the blender. “And I guarantee you’ll feel more energized after this meal than whatever you’re used to eating in the morning.” He scooped in some flaxseed, oats, and yogurt, added the mint and milk, and then turned on the blender. When everything was combined, he split the smoothie between two glasses. “Breakfast is ready.”