Page 13 of I Don’t Believe In Fated Mates!

A bowl of strawberries and blackberries sits off to one side, plump and bursting with sweetness. A mug of dark roast coffee, strong enough to wake the dead, and a glass of orange juice catching the sunlight like liquid gold. Next to the coffee is a little white ceramic jug of heavy cream, and a bowl of sugar lumps.

She sits up, yawns, stretches, and rubs her face with her hands. Her gaze lights on the tray and she smiles. "That smells… dangerously good."

"Dangerous?" I echo with a smile, as I set the tray down on the bed and sit down next to it. "You think I poisoned breakfast?"

She smiles at that. "You'd never poison someone. You'd just shift and shred."

"You already know me too well." And I love that for us. "Did I make you enough food?"

"My God, yes. I don't know how much shifters eat, but this is enough for ten humans."

"Oops." I look down at the tray. I could eat that much, but shifters burn a lot of energy.

Her mouth curves up in a smile. Her hair's a wild halo of curls and tangles, and somehow she looks even more beautiful like that — soft and unguarded, but with that spark of mischief already lighting her gaze.

"No, it's very sweet. I could get used to this," she admits, peering at the tray as I move it closer. "Breakfast in bed, served by a giant wolf-man trying to seduce me into being his forever mate."

"'Trying'?" I repeat, feigning offense as I set the tray across her lap. "If memory serves me correctly, I already succeeded. Again and again."

"Hmm," she murmurs. "We'll see." But there's a small smile as she says it.

I settle on the edge of the mattress, watching her take the first bite. The sunlight glows across her face, and for a heartbeat, I forget about the council, the pack, the trouble that's coming.

"Well, join me!" She gestures at the tray. "I can't eat with you sitting there watching me like that."

So I obey.

And we spend a while sitting there in companionable silence, working our way through the breakfast tray. She eats about ten percent of it, and I finish the rest.

Then she yawns and stretches again. "That was incredible. Thank you. So, what's on your to-do list today?"

My mouth curls into an evil grin.

"What?" she says warily.

"You," I inform her. "You are my to-do list today."

Chapter Eight

LANE

"I am not insane," I insist to Alexis.

Tired? Yes. So gloriously sore that I can hardly walk? Yes. But not crazy.

"Three days ago you were talking about what a dill-hole this guy is, and now he might be your fated mate?" I can hear the exasperation lacing every word.

"I said might. I mean, it's early days, but yes, he could be my fated mate. He says I am." I'm standing outside of Jesse's sprawling abode, for the first time since Wednesday when I arrived. It's Saturday. If I have any more mind-blowing sex or delicious food hand-fed to me by the world's sexiest Alpha, I will die.

I need a brief pleasure break so I can re-set. And do it all over again.

"They must have drugged you or something. Or cast a spell. I've heard rumors about shifters being able to cast spells."

"Oh, come on," I laugh. "I've heard a rumor that the moon is made of green cheese."

"Be serious here. I am very worried about you."

Across the broad, tree-lined street, Jeremiah stalks down the sidewalk and flashes a glare at me. I wave at him and smile in a friendly way. He scowls and looks away in disgust.