Page 98 of Brandon’s Mate

“We got the bastard, Nick,” he said. “You can finally rest.”

The ghost panther just sat there, head cocked. Brandon could almost see him grinning.

“Or just stay and haunt me,” Brandon said. “It’s probably going to be pretty fucking entertaining around here.”

He got to his feet, ready to go see what his crew was up to. Nick still hadn’t budged. He really wasn’t leaving. Brandon sighed. “Come on then.” The ghost panther trotted past him, heading back down to the house.

Brandon paused, looking back into the forest to where Sasquatch was hiding. “You might as well come too,” he called. “There’s gonna be pancakes.”

An hour later he was back from his shopping trip and well into breakfast. The first batch of bacon was done and he was stirring the pancake batter by the time Colt and Remy stumbled into the kitchen. They both stared at Brandon.

“What?” he said. “Haven’t you ever seen anyone make pancakes before?”

Identical goofy smiles spread across their faces.

“Oh my god, there’s coffee,” Remy said, heading for the coffeemaker.

“Is that bacon?” Colt asked, heading for the plate.

“If you eat it all, you have to make more yourself,” Brandon said.

Colt ignored him and grabbed a handful.

Brandon ladled batter carefully onto the griddle, in the shape of a wolf’s head. As if on cue, Kitty came in, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and looking totally adorable. She was wearing her half of the necklace, and she’d put on a tank top with her pajama bottoms so her claiming mark was still visible. His cat roared inside him with pride.

He snagged her around the waist as she went past and kissed her right over the mark. She snuggled into him for a moment. “I love you almost more than coffee,” she murmured.

He kissed her again. “Go over there and get some before these yahoos drink it all.”

He flipped the wolf over on the griddle and added chocolate chips for eyes, nose, and other accents. He let it brown, then he slid it onto a plate and handed it to her.

“Hey,” Colt said. “We got here first. How come she gets the first pancake?”

Kitty smirked at him. “Two words,” she said as she poured syrup. “Dick kisses.”

Colt’s eyes went wide. “Do not ever say those words to me again. Please. I already can’t un-see that image.”

Brandon turned away, grinning, and put some more batter on the griddle.

Kitty said to Colt, “You can have my boobs, if you want.”

Remy choked on his coffee.

Kitty held up the plate, tilting it only slightly so the buttery syrup wouldn’t drip on the floor. The wolf had boobs, complete with chocolate-chip nipples. She eyed it critically. “My nipples are melting.”

“I am not eating your boobs,” Colt said, looking pained. “Brandon would bleed me, and I lost enough blood last night.”

“Damn right I’d bleed you. Those boobs are all for me.” Brandon leaned over, took a forkful of syrupy wolf boob and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Excuse me,” Remy said, “but are the rest of us getting breakfast? And can I have mine before you make me barf all over the floor?”

“Colt’s next,” Brandon said. He plated the second pancake and handed it to Colt. Kitty burst into giggles. It was in the shape of an erect dick.

Colt looked mortally offended. “I’m not eating your dick!”

Kitty giggled harder, almost snorting her coffee out her nose.

“Don’t look at me,” Remy said, holding up his hand. “I’m not eating it either.”