Page 28 of Bear My Heart

"I don't usually, but the recipes in the cookbook I found were well written and the quiche looked pretty easy. I only needed to resort to YouTube once."

Shanti laughed, a warm, sleepy sound. "For which part? Thank you. Wow," she added as he brought the quiche, still sizzling hot in its cast iron pan, to the table. "It really looks good. Thank you."

"I didn't know what cutting the butter into the flour for the crust meant. Or rather, I figured it didn't just mean cutting chunks of butter into the flour and then just sitting there waiting for it to do something."

"Doesn't it say to rub it into the flour until it's the size of grains of rice?" Shanti actually got up to look at the recipe, then gave it a ferociously soft scowl that made Peter's heart melt. She was so beautiful, and her gentle try at ferocity was adorable. "It doesn't," she muttered. "I'll need to fix that."

"It's probably understood for people who cook," Peter assured her, but she made an impatient motion that suggested, somehow, that her impatience was for herself, not him.

"The point of a good cookbook is to make sure people who don't know how to cook can follow the instructions." She got a pen from a cup on the counter and wrote in the cookbook, then, looking sleepy but satisfied, went back to the table. "It looks amazing. Did you actually sauté the mushrooms?"

"And learned that sautéing is just a fancy word for frying," Peter said with a grin. "Although the internet told me they're actually slightly different techniques."

"So it wasn't just the once you had to resort to YouTube!"

"No, I just looked up what sautéing meant." He cut the quiche and placed a slice on Shanti's plate. "I did assume you wouldn't be allergic to anything you kept in the house, though. Or probably anything you'd written down in a recipe book, although I didn't know if that was yours."

"It is. And I'm not, no. No food allergies that I know about. You?"

"Not me either. I also didn't remember you eating meat, so I thought I'd err on the side of caution, just in case."

"Oh. You really pay attention." Shanti smiled, tried the quiche, and sighed happily. "That's really good. And I don't not eat meat, but I don't eat it very often. More pescatarian than vegetarian, I guess."

"Like alcohol," Pete said with a nod. "You don't not drink but you don't drink."

Shanti laughed, that warm low sound with most of the shyness gone now. "Right. I'm starting to sound complicated, but I swear I'm not. And this is delicious."

"It's your recipe. All I did was not mess it up."

"Nobody's cooked for me in a really long time, so it's special," Shanti murmured. "You should try it. Unless you don't like eggs."

Pete supposed it would be strange to just sit there and watch her eat, so he did get himself a slice of the quiche and tried it cautiously before his eyebrows went up. "That is good! This is where I admit I've never had quiche before. I thought it was hard to make, but it's just really fancy scrambled eggs."

Shanti grinned as she took another bite. "It is, isn't it? And you can put a lot of things into it. I can't make an omelette to save my life, but I can make quiche. Thank you," she said again as she finished her slice and got another one. "For everything."

"My pleasure. I'm glad you were able to unwind a little."

"I haven't in…" Shanti closed her eyes. "In years. I really needed that. Thank you," she said yet again, opening her eyes to meet his.

There was such soft intensity in her gaze that it shot through him like a lightning bolt, taking his breath away. Shanti Davis was genuinely unlike anyone Pete had ever met: so quiet and reserved, but also so focused and capable. He was certain that even with a lifetime together, she would continually surprise him, and he could hardly wait for that future to unfold.

He also didn't want to rush her, but part of him wanted to scoop her into his arms again and kiss her. To worship her until she began to understand just how wonderful she really was.

That might take a lifetime, too, he thought wryly. She ducked her head now as he studied her, her shoulders rising a little. "What on earth are you looking at?"

"You," Pete said simply. "You're beautiful, but even more than that…you said you don't really think you'll leave Virtue, but that people believe you when you say you will? Shanti, I've got to tell you, if you told me you could fly, I'm pretty sure I'd believe you. You've got this center of resolve that seems like nothing could shake it."

She breathed, "Oh," and shook her head. "I don't, though. Not really. I've just had to stay on point to keep all the balls in the air. I'm not any more special than anybody else. I definitely can't fly."

Pete wanted to argue, but it was so clear to him that Shanti was uncomfortable with compliments that he smiled instead. "Well, neither can I. Bears aren't known for it."

"Are there shifters who fly?" Her eyes widened with interest, and Peter's bear harrumphed.

We are every bit as good as shifters who fly!

She didn't say we weren't! Pete, aloud, said, "There are bird shifters, but not, like…you can't ride them into battle."

A complex expression ran across Shanti's beautiful features before she suddenly broke into laughter. "Sorry, I was just imagining a battle chicken or something."