The years he had waited for Wesley to be ready for him had dragged by like a millennia. Even the few weeks Wesley had slept in one of the guest rooms rather than with him had pained Jobe. But now his mate was where he belonged. For the first time in over a decade, Jobe felt completely alive. Wanting nothing more than to curl around his mate and sleep the day away, he climbed onto the bed and straightened the blanket. But before Jobe lay down, Wesley rolled over, stretched his long, strong limbs, and then settled on his back.
On their own initiative, Jobe’s eyes roamed over Wesley’s tan skin and landed on his belly. Not much of his seed remained on the puckered skin, most of it having been absorbed, but he could still see the remains of their passion and it filled his heart to overflowing. It also reminded him that Wesley would be ravenous when he awoke. Shifting burned energy and calories, and on top of that, they’d run for hours.
Needing to make sure his mate had a hearty meal rich in protein and iron to sustain him, Jobe got out of bed and went back outside. After shifting into his wolf form, he hunted a few rabbits and brought them back to the yard, where he butchered the meat and placed it in the outdoor smoker to cook. A quick shower to wash off the dirt and grime, and Jobe was back in bed with his mate.
Like earlier, Jobe couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours, only this time, he didn’t wake up because of uncomfortable furniture. Instead, the inner drive to care for his mate pulled him from sleep and propelled him into the kitchen. He baked a fresh loaf of bread, whisked together a light dressing for greens he had picked from the garden, and steamed a large bowl of broccoli. After setting the dining room table and arranging the food and a pitcher of water on it, he pulled a tray out of the buffet and went outside to retrieve the meat. He had just placed the last cut of rabbit on the tray, when the door slammed open and Wesley stomped out of the house.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” he demanded.
“What isn’t true?” Jobe flipped around to face Wesley. He must have dressed in a rush because his sweatpants were inside out and his long-sleeved shirt backward. “Are you okay?” Jobe wanted to wrap his arms around him, but he held a tray full of meat in one hand and tongs in the other.
Raising a trembling hand, Wesley shook his phone. “I just talked to Ricky.”
“The Omega from Purple Sky?” Jobe knew Wesley had called the young wolf a couple of times to check in on him. His mate’s loyalty, protectiveness, and nurturing personality made him a strong Alpha. Those qualities would also make him a wonderful father. “Is he having trouble?” Jobe asked. “Should we call Brian?”
“Brian Berger is the last person we should call,” Wesley bit out.
Jobe had no idea what was going on, but his mate was trembling and upset. That wouldn’t do. “How about we go inside and talk about this?” He held up the tray. “Our food is getting cold and you probably are too.”
“What is that?” Wesley asked as he took in a deep breath.
“Smoked rabbit.” Jobe approached him slowly, not wanting to do anything to exacerbate what clearly was an already stressful moment. “I thought you’d be hungry when you woke up so I made us an early dinner.” He smiled, hoping to soothe Wesley. “Or a really late breakfast, depending on how you look at it.”
Some tension melted from Wesley’s shoulders and his expression softened. “Did you put oranges in there?” He inhaled again and the lines on his forehead smoothed out. “And do I smell cloves?”
“No. It’s just the rabbit meat.” Jobe wrapped his arm around Wesley’s back, being careful not to scrape him with the tongs. “I smoked it with mesquite. Maybe that’s what you’re smelling.” Not that the wood smelled like citrus or cloves, but Wesley was upset about his phone call and he was probably still tired, so it made sense for him not to be operating on all cylinders.
“Well, whatever that is, it smells wonderful.” Wesley inhaled again and then moaned. “Really wonderful.”
“Everything’s ready,” Jobe said as they stepped into the house. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on with Ricky while we eat?”
“It seems silly now.” Wesley shook his head. “He must have misunderstood something or maybe I did.” He frowned. “I don’t know.”
“You can tell me about it and we’ll figure it out together.” He herded Wesley into the dining room and tried not to worry that his normally confident, sure-minded mate sounded so out of sorts.