He hoped this would help his females understand that, though they’d lost their old home, they had a new one here with him.
Reaching forward, he lifted the headboard and footboard, standing them up on their feet, pressed together. He slid them out of the truck and leaned them against his leg. Then he dragged the bundle of wooden slats closer, pairing them with the two siderails. He took the boards in one hand and the rest under his other arm, carrying them to the front door.
He set down the boards briefly to unlock the door. Once it was open wide, he walked inside, and was hit by a wave of pleasantly warm air that was laden with even more pleasant smells. Gabriela’s scent was in the mix, strong enough that it nearly made him groan, but there was something else even stronger.
There was chicken in that scent, he could tell that much, but there was so much more layered with it that he couldn’t identify the rest. Whatever it was, it smelled amazing. His stomach growled in sudden hunger.
Stepping farther into the house, Broxen looked toward the kitchen.
A head popped up in the living room. Ana was seated on the floor at the coffee table, drawing on a piece of paper. Her face lit up with a big smile. “Mom! Mason’s home!”
Gabriela, who was standing in front of the stove stirring something in a large pot, turned to look at him. “Dinner should be done soon.” She gave him a shy smile. “I…hope you don’t mind?”
Something inside Broxen softened at that, and the tip of his tail curled against his calf. He couldn’t recall a single time that he’d come home to find freshly prepared food waiting for him. Not on Earth, obviously, but not back on Turata, either. This wasn’t anything he’d asked for, wasn’t anything he’d expected, but it only made him appreciate his female even more.
“No,” he said. “Smells good.”
That smile of hers widened, flashing her white teeth and making those dimples on her cheeks deepen before she dropped her gaze to the objects he was carrying. “What’s that?”
“A bed.”
“Oh.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hold you up. It looks heavy.”
And you look beautiful, Gabriela.
“It’s not that bad. Don’t have to go far, either.”
She nodded and turned back toward the stove.
Though he would’ve been happy to linger there, just watching her—or to walk up behind her, grasp her by the hips, and tug her ass back against his aching groin—there was more in the truck that needed to be brought inside, and he had work to do after that. Having smelled Gabriela’s cooking, he had incentive to get everything done as quickly as possible. Broxen continued forward, carrying the disassembled bedframe into the spare bedroom.
He stood the boards against the wall and laid the slats on the floor next to the siderails. As he stood up, he drew in a deep breath and paused.
Broxen hadn’t known what to do with this room when he moved into the house. He didn’t have much in the way of belongings, didn’t need an office or a game room or whatever other rooms humans often had. Until now, this had been slowly becoming a book storage room, and he’d considered installing bookshelves all around the walls and just turning it into a little library at some point. The boxes of books in the corner had been the main source of the smell in this room—that particular scent, the blend of paper and glue that had grown on him so much during his time here.
But there was a trace of Gabriela’s scent in here now. Broxen took in a second deep, appreciative breath, and noticed another out of place smell.
It was…lemony. That artificial sort of lemon, though, the kind that could become overwhelming in greater concentration. It took him a few seconds to recall that he had cleaner under the kitchen sink with that scent—the wood polish.
With a deep, thoughtful hum, he stepped out of the room, only to pause again when he glanced through the open door of his bedroom. The bed had been neatly made, and the floor had been picked up. He moved into the doorway and glanced around. The hamper was missing, and the wood surfaces of the dresser, nightstand, and headboard gleamed in the light cast through the blinds by the setting sun.
None of that was as impactful as what most people would’ve considered the smallest change. Broxen’s gaze fixed on the three bear figurines atop the nightstand, the largest of which had been shifted so it was right alongside the other two.
She’d probably just bumped that figurine while she was cleaning. It had probably been an accident.
But Broxen knew, somehow, that this had been no accident.
Ah, female…
He grinned and eased out of the room. Again, he found himself battling the desire to go to Gabriela, but this time, that desire was even more primal. It was almost animalistic. It was a pull he’d never felt toward another female in his lifetime.
He wanted to rut.
No, he didn’t just want to rut Gabriela, he wanted to mark her with his scent, with his bite, wanted to lay his claim on her fully and forever.
Clenching his hands tight enough to feel the prick of his claws against his palms, he forced himself back outside.
Focus, Broxen. You don’t want to scare her.
He hauled everything else into the house in a few quick trips—a tall white dresser with a few scratches and some old, colorful stickers on the upper drawers, a box spring and a brand-new full mattress, one of those wide-drawered plastic storage bins, a new pink bedding set, two pillows, and a plain cardboard box that contained a few things to hopefully help Ana feel more at home. After retrieving a few hand tools from the laundry room, he returned to the spare bedroom.
He had just finished attaching the siderails to the headboard and footboard when Gabriela stepped into the room and gently closed the door behind her. Broxen sat back on his heels as he looked up at her.
She swept her gaze over the bed he was assembling, wringing her hands nervously in front of her. “Is this room for me and Ana to stay in?”
“No. Just Ana.”
“Oh. I can share the bed with her, that way you can have your room back so you’re not—”
“You’ll sleep in my bed. With me.”
Her eyes widened. “With…you?”
Broxen nodded and turned back to his work, laying a slat in place and plucking up the screwdriver and a pair of screws. “Yes.”
She stood there, silently watching him, and though that shouldn’t have been a distraction, it was. She was.
He’d always prided himself on his ability to remain calm and collected. It had been a big part of his job. But her scent and nearness were driving him mad, making it difficult to focus. All he wanted to do was reach out, drag her beneath him, and tear off all her clothes to bare her luscious body to him. What did she look like beneath her clothing? Were her nipples pink or dark? Did she have hair between her thighs, or was she bare? Did she have any unique markings upon her flesh? He hadn’t seen any on her limbs when she’d worn more revealing clothes in the summer, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any hidden elsewhere.
“Were you serious about what you said earlier?” Gabriela asked, her voice breaking through his imaginings.
He slid a screw into one of the predrilled holes and tightened it down. “About what?”
“About…wanting me.”
Broxen froze. Did his female still question his intentions? He raised his head and met her gaze. Her dark, entrancing eyes were filled with uncertainty.