Let the Rain Come Down [The Moonlight Breed 6] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Gabrielle Evans (white hot kiss TXT) 📖

a dozen broken eggs. The countertop near the stove hadn’t fared much better, and he found himself chuckling at the chaos.

“I take it cooking lessons didn’t go so well.”

“Not true.” Oscar swirled around in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. “Ro made the scrambled eggs we’re eating.”

“There’s more in the pan if you’re hungry,” Zavion added, pointing to the stove behind Demitrius.

“I’m sure Mr. Accola has other things to do.”

The spark between them grew bigger and brighter the longer they were together, and Oscar’s stubborn attitude wasn’t going to drive him away until he understood what that meant. “Actually, my only job is to stick to you guys like glue, so I’d love to have breakfast with you.”

“It’s technically dinner,” Oscar retorted. “We’re on vampire time here.”

“Speaking of which,” Stavion said a bit louder than was necessary, “I need to find Jory and get his cute little butt into bed. Goodnight, everyone.”

Cicero stood, took both twins by the elbow, and ushered them out of the kitchen without a word, leaving Demitrius alone with Oscar. Since he really was hungry, that gave Demitrius the perfect excuse to stick around and try to engage the little shifter in conversation. The cold eggs in the pan didn’t look very appetizing, though.

“What are you doing?”

Rummaging around in the galley refrigerator, he pulled out another carton of eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, peppers, and cheese. “Making a couple of omelets.”

“You know how to do that?” Oscar sat up a little straighter, craning his neck to watch Demitrius assemble the ingredients on the counter. “Is it hard?”

“It can be tricky at first, but it gets easier with practice.”

“Can I watch or would that make you uncomfortable?” It was obvious that Oscar was intrigued and eager to learn.

If it kept him in the room and talking, Demitrius would make breakfast—or dinner—for everyone in the coven. “I don’t mind. You’ll learn faster if you try it for yourself, though.”

“Oh, uh, well, I’m not a very good student. Maybe I should just clean up and go to bed.”

“Why do you keep doing that?” Demitrius didn’t understand it. Oscar didn’t act afraid of him like other people, but he was obviously anxious about something. “If you really want to leave, I’ll clean. No need to make a production of it.”

“I’m not making a production of anything. You’re being rude.”

“You don’t want my help. You don’t want me anywhere near your friends. You want to watch me cook, but then in the same breath, you can’t wait to get out of the room. How exactly am I the one being rude?”

“Well…” Oscar trailed off and huffed, fanning the hair away from his forehead with his breath. “Can you teach me how to make an omelet?”

Turning back to the counter to hide his smile, Demitrius nodded carefully. “Sure, but maybe we really should clean up a little first.”

“I’m really not a good cook. You make your dinner, and I’ll clean. Then we can commence with the lesson. Otherwise, it could be sunup before you get to eat.”

They both went about their tasks in silence, and Demitrius found that it wasn’t uncomfortable in the least. While Oscar swept and mopped the floor, Demitrius prepared his omelet, concentrating on each step and thinking of ways to explain them to the shifter. He’d never deliberately set out to teach anything to anyone, but it shouldn’t be a big deal.

Food devoured and kitchen tidied, Demitrius washed, rinsed, and dried his plate before setting it aside. “Okay, so what do you like with your eggs?”

“I’m not sure.” Oscar worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he surveyed the items on the counter. “They let us have ketchup sometimes.”

Demitrius didn’t know who “they” were, and he didn’t think the guy would appreciate him prying. Maybe one day Oscar would trust him enough to share his secrets, and when that day came, Demitrius would be ready to listen. “Do you like onions, mushrooms, and sweet peppers?”

“I don’t know.” Sucking his lip back between his teeth, Oscar shrugged and rubbed at the nape of his neck. “I’ve never had any of those things.”

“Good.” Removing three eggs from the carton and setting them beside the cutting board, he placed the rest back into the fridge and nudged Oscar forward to the counter. “We’ll fix it up with everything then. If you don’t like something, you’ll know next time. That’s the great thing about choices.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Oscar held it for a minute and then let it out in a whoosh. “Okay. What do I do first?”

Settling onto one of the stools, Demitrius leaned back against the island and watched, occasionally answering questions or giving instructions. He didn’t know what Oscar had been so worried about, though. It was clear that he didn’t have much experience in the kitchen, but he followed directions well and was meticulous about every detail right down to the direction he cut the onions.

“How do I know when these are done?” He pushed the vegetables around in the pan with the spatula and frowned.

“You want them soft, but not mushy.”

Oscar nodded resolutely, but still continued to poke at the contents of the pan. His bottom lip went between his teeth again, a sure sign he was getting upset, and he started bouncing from foot to foot. Worry lines marred his brow and his eyebrows drew together in an expression of clear agitation.

“I think they’re ready, Oscar.”

Pursing his lips, he nodded once more and lifted the pan to transfer the contents to the skillet with the eggs. “Then I just fold it over?”

“That’s it.”

“What about the cheese? You put cheese on yours.”

“Well, you can put it on the inside or the outside. You can even do both.”

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, because the agitation returned, accompanied by a soft grunt of what Demitrius took to be frustration. Oscar did well with direct orders. When faced with making even a simple decision, he seemed to fall into a panic. “Do you like