Jeremy's POV
Downstairs, Reed is gone, and I am pleased. I don’t like men around my wife. Even if he is my alpha.
The air is charged, and I study her for a long moment, the way she stands there, calm but taut underneath the surface as she takes the stove off, covering the lid of the delicious chicken delights I smell. The pull between us hums loud in my chest, and I wonder, briefly, if I’m pushing too hard. But the tether between us, fated and unbreakable, won’t let me stop. I step closer, closing the small space between us, my hands resting lightly on her waist. “Tell me how you feel about me now, Claire,” I murmur, voice low, steady, coaxing, not demanding.
Her eyes flick up to mine, cautious at first, then daring, searching as she removes the dark-colored apron from around her neck.
