Ana picked up her fork and began shoveling eggs into her mouth.
“She does tend to exaggerate things,” Gabriela said.
“Do not,” Ana said around a mouthful.
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth.”
Ana moved the food to one side of her mouth, making her cheek stick out. “Sorry.”
Shaking her head with a smile, Gabriela turned her eyes back to Broxen. “Thank you for breakfast.”
He paused with a forkful of eggs halfway up to his mouth—which was already filled with eggs—and looked up at Gabriela. He lowered the fork and quickly chewed and swallowed before replying. “No problem. Can take you to the store afterward. Get whatever you two need.”
Her smile faltered, and she dropped her gaze to her plate. “Do you…have a computer I could use? I need to let my parents know what happened, and…check my bank account, but my phone is gone.”
Based on what she’d said yesterday—and the look on her face now—Broxen guessed she knew exactly what was in her account.
Nothing, or damn near close to it.
“I’ll get my laptop when we’re done,” he said. He dipped his chin toward her untouched plate. “Eat, female.”
Her brows creased as she looked at him questioningly; only then did he realize what he’d said.
Female. That wasn’t how humans talked.
“Are we still getting hot chocolate?” Ana asked.
Gabriela’s eyes widened. “Ana!”
That interjection was convenient enough to nearly make him thank the kit. “Yes. We had a date.”
“Mason, you’ve already done so much. I…I don’t expect you to—”
“Are you…cancelling our date?” he asked, putting on an exaggerated frown. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a tactic Ana had used many times during her young life.
It was called a guilt trip.
“What? No! I just thought with… I wouldn’t cancel. I want to”—she glanced between him and Ana—“go on a date with you.”
“I knew it! He’s your boyfriend.” Grinning, Ana looked at Broxen. “I saw her staring at your butt.”
“Oh, God.” Gabriela buried her face in her hands.
The corner of Broxen’s mouth quirked up as he reached across the table with both arms, taking hold of her wrists. She struggled a little when he tried to guide her hands down, but finally gave in. Her cheeks had darkened; that natural hint of blush was more tantalizing than any makeup she could ever have worn.
“I’m taking you for hot chocolate,” he said when she met his gaze. “I will do that, and so much more. And don’t worry. You have my permission.”
Her brows knitted. “Permission for what?”
“To stare at my butt whenever you want.”
And I will continue to stare at yours in turn, my mate.
Gabriela laughed even as her cheeks grew darker. “Is it possible to die from embarrassment? Because I think I might.”
“You will not. Now”—he released one of her wrists and picked up her fork, placing it within her hand—“eat.”
She caught her bottom lip with her teeth as she held his gaze. Lowering her fork, she poked a piece of egg and slowly brought it to her mouth. “Yes, Sir.”
Watching her slip the eggs past her plump lips sent a rush of desire straight to his groin. For a moment, he imagined those lips wrapping around his cock, imagined those dark eyes staring up to meet his half-lidded gaze as she pleasured him with her mouth and tongue.
He dropped his hand to his thigh, curled in into a fist, and gritted his teeth as his shaft twitched and hardened. The ache was bearable. For now.
Soon.
Soon he would have Gabriela in his bed, her body bared and spread to receive him. He’d cover her with his mouth first, would lick her and taste her, would drink of her essence as she cried out in rapture. Then he would claim her as his own.
She’d be his.
Soon.
Nine
Seventy-two dollars.
That was all Gabriela had left to her name. A measly seventy-two dollars. She didn’t even have that on her person currently—it was in her checking account, and her debit card had been in her purse, which had been turned to ash along with everything else she owned. She’d have to get that replaced, along with her driver’s license, their birth certificates, and social security cards, none of which she could afford right now.
A few house cleaning jobs would’ve brought in money to cover the bare essentials, but she had nothing scheduled until after Christmas—and even if she’d had something sooner, Gabriela had no way to get anywhere. Her car had been totaled thanks to its proximity to the house. Her liability insurance sure as hell wasn’t going to cover that.
Maybe she could call her clients and offer a housecleaning special?
And then what? Have Mason drive me all over the county like he’s my chauffeur/personal taxi service while I clean houses?
Gabriela clutched the shopping cart’s handlebar, trying hard to keep her eyes from blurring with tears as she walked toward the toiletries section of the grocery store. That sense of helplessness she’d felt since first seeing the fire in her living room hadn’t diminished. She drew in a quiet, shaky breath.
She didn’t even have shoes to wear—at least not any that fit. She and Ana had used some of Mason’s spare boots to walk outside, but they hadn’t even been inside the store for a minute before they’d both removed the oversized footwear and set it on the cart’s bottom rack. Traveling through the grocery store in their socks was embarrassing, but clomping along in big, noisy boots that slid and flopped around was even more so, especially when those boots fell off every couple steps.
Ana was walking beside the cart, holding it with her hand—a habit left over from when she was a little girl and Gabby had insisted Ana always stay close. Gabriela studied her daughter, and her chest constricted. The changes in Ana were subtle, and oftentimes Gabriela was oblivious to them, but every now and then she’d notice everything in a rush and it’d be almost too much to take. Ana was nine and a half, and she was already showing hints of the woman she’d too soon become.
Where was the time going?
Gabriela turned the cart into the aisle containing oral hygiene products.
Mason followed her, his steps heavy upon the floor. His entire demeanor had changed the moment they’d left his truck. He’d grown quiet and more watchful, remaining behind her as though he were her shadow. Every time she glanced over her shoulder, he’d look her way and offer her an encouraging, friendly smile.
Gabriela brought the cart to a stop in front of the toothbrushes. She skimmed the choices, seeking out the cheapest ones until she finally plucked up a pack of two that was priced under two dollars. She selected a tube of the store brand of toothpaste next.
The deodorant was a little farther down the aisle. She chose two sticks of the cheapest brand—one for her, one for Ana—and continued on to grab a bottle of body wash, a bottle of two-in-one shampoo, and a hairbrush, keeping a metal tally of the prices. For her face cream, she picked one of the travel-sized tubes. It wasn’t cost effective, but it was marked cheaper than a full-size container, and it was all she could afford right now.