by Anthology
“Well, this could make things difficult,” Ruthie said.
Lee’s gaze turned back on Ruthie. “You think?” He tipped his head to the side. “You’re all gray again.”
She stepped out of her corner. “Makes it easier for people to pass through me.”
He started to take a step toward her. “Come back. I feel like I’m on drugs when you look like that.”
Ruthie smiled. “As you wish.” She spun around. When she faced him again, corporeal, he stared at her with the strangest look on his face.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing important.”
8
“So were you trained as a chef?” Lee asked Ruthie while they waited for the dough to rise for the stollen. Evidently, the German bread was part of the old traditional meal she had to prepare. It was the process which took the longest time, as the cooked loaf was supposed to sit and “rest” for as long as possible, preferably at least a week, before serving.
But since they only had a few days, it would have to do.
Lee handed her the bowl he’d washed, and she dried it for him. It was strange having her there, but on the flip side, he liked having a second pair of hands that actually knew how to cook.
Even though there was a companionable silence, he felt like he had to make small talk.
There was something about her—he saw it for a second, and it gave him pause. Something familiar. No, not quite right.
A resonance he felt deep inside.
He tried to brush it off. Since she was from grandma’s era, Ruthie must in some way remind him of his late grandmother, and that nostalgia was what intrigued him.
Still, he couldn’t shake it.
It was more than her being incredibly beautiful. Curves in all the right places, feminine and sweet—smiling and soft.
Something he wasn’t used to dealing with.
So he went for polite small talk. That was manners, right? Small talk? He’d heard that once.
“No, I wasn’t trained as a chef, why do you ask?” Ruthie meticulously dried the spoon he’d washed.
“Your clothes are clean.” He’d been watching her all afternoon while they prepared the bread and the other desserts for the dinner. She moved like she’d been trained in culinary arts.
Very few people who weren’t trained could cook without getting something on their clothes. Hell, he was in school for nearly a year before he was able to get through a service without coming out covered in food.
She raised her perfect little eyebrow. She was the stereotypical image of a young woman from the 1940’s. She could have been a model for a magazine shoot. Her hair was in those folded roll looking things, and the back brushed her shoulders. Even her lips looked flawless—that ripe red color, like she’d just eaten a big bowl of raspberries.
He should have been more freaked about it than he was, really.
But working with her in the kitchen soothed him.
It was fun, cooking with her. A more pleasurable experience than he’d had in quite a while, anyway.
Not insanely stressful like work.
It was, well, happy. The same kind of feeling had pushed him toward going to culinary school in the first place.
“I was taught at a very young age to keep myself neat and tidy when cooking.” Ruthie tucked away the dish she’d finished drying. “Is that not standard practice now?”
He shrugged. “You’d be surprised how many people are not neat and tidy when they work.”
She shook her head. “I would think, if only for sanitary reasons, it would be very important.”
“One would think.”
She hung up the towel just as the security alarm chirped, signaling the front door had been opened.
“Ho ho ho!” Kevin said as he came in the house. “Don’t come out here.”
“Hope you’re broke.” Lee yelled back.
“Mostly,” Kevin replied. “Don’t come out here.”
“Heard you the first time.” Lee rolled his eyes.
“Just making sure, because you’re so damned hard headed.” The sound of bags rustling came from the living room. Even though Lee was twenty-seven, during the holiday season, the sound of paper crinkling and being told not to go somewhere during the season made Lee grin.
The challenge was enough to put him in the Christmas mood. Maybe he needed to flip on the radio in the living room for some Christmas music…
He gazed into the living room.
Then an idea came to him. He turned to Ruthie. “So he can’t see you, right?”
“No, of course not,” Ruthie said as she wiped off the kitchen counter.
“So walk out there and tell me what’s in the packages.”
She paused and put her hand on her hip. “Lee, that is not nice.” Though she smiled as she spoke.
“Come on.” He stepped closer to her. “Please?”
“I certainly will not spy on your Christmas presents for you.” Yet she glanced toward the living room as she spoke, with a grin on her face.
He took a step toward her. “Bet you would if you could.” He came right up behind her. “Bet you used to shake all the presents under the tree, trying to figure out what was in each one.”
She didn’t look at him. “That wouldn’t be proper.”
He leaned in, almost whispering in her ear. “Doesn’t mean you didn’t do it.”
This did make her meet his gaze. “Maybe. Maybe not. I will never tell.” And she darted over to the doorway, observing Kevin and his bags of presents.
Lee grinned. “Says the woman who’s peeking around the corner.” He crept closer again, this time the full skirt brushed against his legs.
“Poo. I can’t see anything. And what I can see, I can’t identify. I think one says it’s a tablet. What is that?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at Lee.
Ruthie’s pretty eyes met his for a second, and Lee put his hand on her shoulder, his thumb stroking her hair. It was as soft as he’d imagined it would be. He held himself in check, so he wouldn’t pull her flush against him, and respond to the cardinal desires thrumming through his animal side.
“A computer,” he forced himself to focus on her question, rather than what he wanted to do with her in private sometime.
Because his imagination had already painted some very vivid images.
“Wow, that is a fancy gift,” she said, jarring him from his runaway thoughts. She leaned more into the door jam, which pulled her away from him.
He took another step, so he was still close. Maybe even a touch closer now.
“Probably not as fancy as it could be,” he said softly.
“To me it is—machines that made thousands of computations per minute were merely the stuff of science fiction.” She turned and met his gaze, her blue eyes sparkling, and a whimsical smile on her face.
“A lot has changed,” Lee whispered.
“Yes, it has.”
They were very close.
Very.
Lee felt something deep inside him he’d not felt in a very long time. Maybe ever. The beast rumbled beneath his skin, and he leaned into her.
Ruthie didn’t look away, her gaze locked on his.
She shifted slightly, her skirts swishing against him. Her body felt warm, as she stepped nearer. She leaned into him, her lashes lowered.
His lips loomed mere millimeters from hers. Her tongue darted out, moistening the center.
The beast roared within him. Screaming to be alive, to live by his animalistic side, let the beast free.
To want her.
They were very close—he was going to—
“Dude! I told you to stay in there!” Kevin yelled. “Fuck!” Kevin started shifting and covering all the stuff he’d strewn across the couch.
Not that Lee had a clue what his brother had been doing. He’d lost all interest in the bounty of Christmas presents. His attention had shifted to Ruthie.
Still was.
Her cheeks flushed,
and her gaze darted down to the floor.
He growled at Kevin. “Go sort in your bedroom.” Lee turned back to Ruthie as she slipped around him, scurrying back into the kitchen. “Ruthie,” he whispered.
Kevin cursed Lee under his breath. Not that Lee cared. He was more concerned about the auburn-haired woman in his kitchen, and keeping her from turning transparent again.
She checked the bowl of rising bread dough, and rubbed oil on it to keep the dough moist.
He leaned against the counter, not quite sure how to proceed.
Well, he knew what he wanted to do.
But was that what she wanted?
She stirred the fruit rehydrating in the rum, and picked up the Christmas menu. The paper trembled in her hand, and he wondered if she could actually see the words written on it.
Damn, she was beautiful.
He’d thought it from the first moment he’d seen her, but the more he was around her, the stronger it became.
The werewolf side wanted to grab her and kiss her senseless. And that thought opened up a whole slew of things he wanted to do to her.
Including his urge to see what kind of panties she wore under that dress.
So prim, so proper, so lovely. What was hidden underneath her perfect posture? He was sure there was more to her than just a lady.
“What’s going on, Ruthie?”
She sat the menu down. “Why do you ask?” She painted a very fake smile on her face, then tugged at the button on the front of her dress.
“You seem upset.”
“Not at all.” There was that smile again. The fake one made his skin crawl. He did not like seeing her pretend to be proper when she was uncomfortable. But her armor was chipping. He could see it in her fidgeting.
Not so reserved now, are you? He thought to himself. Good. Why he wanted to keep her off balance, he wasn’t sure, but he did—the desire burned in his gut.
Maybe because she left him so off kilter with her manners and her…
And her…
Red lips.
“You are stirring the dried fruit. Again.”
She stopped and her gaze darted around the room, anywhere but on him. “Well…”
He closed the space between them by half. “Ruthie.”
She squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “I do not believe it was appropriate for you to be so close to me. You shall not do it again.”
She is bluffing. He could smell it. Or rather, the beast could—making the wolf roar hard and loud, desperate to be against her again.
“What if you want me to? Again,” he whispered.
“I will not.” Ruthie raised her chin, as if to challenge him.
Challenge accepted, Lee thought. In a couple of strides, he was right next to her, the full skirt wedged between them, a feeble barrier.
Still, she didn’t move away.
“I don’t believe you,” Lee replied.
“You can believe as you choose. It was still inappropriate.”
“I never was one for propriety.” He inched a little closer, holding back the werewolf who wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his bed. The beast was starving for some kind of release.
Ruthie squared her shoulders again, he guessed trying to intimidate him.
Wasn’t working.
“You should be. A gentleman would never intentionally make a woman uncomfortable.” She pointed a finger at him as she spoke, and damn if he didn’t find it cute.
He smiled, and was pretty certain it wasn’t a pretty smile, by the way Ruthie inhaled a breath and stared.
The beast was getting desperate. He needed to do something to satisfy the hunger.
She had a point, though. A gentleman wouldn’t.
He got as close to her as he could without touching her. “Good thing I’m not a gentleman.”
She exhaled a shuddering breath which danced over his cheek. His wolf howled with need and desire. Whether she would admit it or not, he could see how her blue eyes darkened, and his sensitive nose picked up the change in her scent.
A good change.
A horny one.
She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
“Of course you are, Lee Reynolds. Your grandmother would never allow otherwise.”
He raised his eyebrow. “She didn’t know everything.”
Lee pulled away from her, and walked toward the broken back door. A run seemed necessary tonight to quell his desires.
And teasing his new cooking partner would be a bonus.
The shattered panel was covered, but the others side still slid open enough to get out. Cool air seeped through the plywood, calling to him. The beast would have to accept a cold run on the frozen ground.
He needed to something to cool himself. Because any more banter, and he might be following through on his urges to ravish her.
He pulled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes and shucked his pants.
“Lee Donovan Reynolds!” Ruthie snapped behind him. “What are you doing?”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Going for a run. Because I am almost a gentleman.” Nudity had never been a big deal among the Reynolds boys. His sister was a bit more modest when the craving struck, but not much.
Obviously Ruthie was not as comfortable with it.
Her gaze scraped over him, taking in every naked inch, and he smirked, watching her. It was almost tactile, the way she stared at him, her eyes wide in abject horror, and her cheeks flushed, like she was turned on at the same time.
Her lips fell open, and when he turned, he noticed her gaze went straight to his package.
Good.
As soon as his bare feet hit the ground, the cold slapped him. He transformed into wolf, and took off running.
9
“I cannot believe he just did that,” Ruthie muttered. Yet she couldn’t help looking out the back door as the wolf Lee thundered across the snow into the woods behind the property.
Nor could she believe she stared like she did.
She was so embarrassed. Especially because he tempted her so much. She had been able to tell he was firmly built from the way his clothing cut him, but when she saw the muscular lines in the flesh, she’d been gob smacked.
Especially by the size of his, um well, his boy parts. She had no idea those areas could be so thick and long.
Not that she was an expert—she’d only seen one in her life and it didn’t look nearly so impressive. Perhaps werewolves were bigger?
She had no idea. Regardless, she knew Lee had done it to upset her. And it had worked. Mostly.
She should have been completely affronted at his stripping right in front of her.
Yet she wasn’t.
Perhaps the most shocking aspect of it all— it didn’t upset her like it should have.
Or was that his goal? To shock and entice her? Make her wish she had kissed him?
Because oh, how she wished she had.
To even consider kissing Evelyn’s grandson—how truly improper. Yet she couldn’t help how she’d wanted to bring her lips to his when he’d put his hand on her shoulder, how she wanted to feel the touch of them against hers.
His arms wrapped around her, holding her close—she wanted to feel it so badly.
Yet she knew she shouldn’t.
It was just so, so—
“An odd little twist of fate,” a voice from behind her said.
Ruthie spun around, and narrowed her gaze. “Malik.”
The blue-skinned djinn smiled, his dark hair pulled away from his face, and unlike the last time she saw him, today he wore a very fancy men’s suit. He would have looked quite appropriate, if he weren’t such a scoundrel.
Or blue.
“Trying again, are we?” he asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
“Of course I am.”
“You know the rules Ruthie, my dear. You have seventy-five years, and dear old Evelyn didn’t make it that long.”
“No, but there’s no rul
e saying Evelyn had to be my cooking partner.” At least, she hoped so.
Malik shrugged. “I will give you that. Santa Claus could try and help you if he wanted to, but I doubt it will do any good.”
“Why? Because you don’t think I can make the perfect meal?”
The djinn disappeared then reappeared next to her. He whispered his response. “Because I do not think you are capable of doing what needs to be done.”
She shivered. “And what is that?”
“It is—” He smirked. “I almost told you the key.” He walked around so he was in front of her again.
“Why not tell me? You said yourself, this is my last chance. What would it hurt to allow me a boon this late in the game? A true shot at getting free?”
“But where is the fun in that?”
Ruthie crossed her arms. “I am sure you’re having a wonderful time being free of your bottle.”
“Of course I am.” He looked her up and down. “I imagine you are too.”
“Why would you say that?” she asked. She turned away from him and checked on the bread dough again, straightening the towel covering it.
Malik however, seemed to know no boundaries about propriety, because in a wisp, he disappeared and reappeared next to her again.
“Interesting that he is the one helping you.”
“Why would that matter?”
“Well, after you scared him to death when he was a kid…”
Ruthie glanced at the djinn. “You do not know the situation.”
“Don’t I?” Malik asked, wiggling his fingers, his middle finger bent as though it had been chopped off.
Ruthie’s frustration began to get the best of her. “Malik it has been quite nice to see you again, but I do insist that you be going. Good day, sir.”
“I will be watching,” Malik said as he disappeared.
Ruthie gritted her teeth, and kicked the cabinet. She almost spit out one of those curse words Lee favored.
Almost.
10
The problem with racing around in the cold in wolf form wasn’t the run.
It was the getting back in the house without transforming that made it tough.
Lee was on the verge of freezing, or so he felt as he thundered up to the back of the house.
