Page 12 of Tiger's Little Waif
“I’m ready,” she said softly, heading for the front door.
She fought to keep her tears at bay and her voice soft as she faced the front door and waited for him. As usual during their walk from cabin to dining hall, Marshall took her hand in his as they left the porch.
They walked to the dining hall without a word being spoken. Once in the kitchen, Marshall put on his apron and washed his hands as he did every morning.
With a huffed sigh, Shaw carried her backpack to the small table in the corner and settled in for another day of being bored.
“Do you think you can make cookies for lunch? And maybe a cake or two for dinner?”
His questions stunned her, and it took her a moment to answer. “Yes, Chef. Any special flavor?”
“Your choice, but if you make anything with chocolate or nuts, please make a second option without either,” he said.
Shaw nodded her understanding as she went to the kitchen’s well-stocked pantry to see what she had to work with. She wanted to impress him, as well as the rest of the residents of Bratburg, but could only do that by working within the parameters he had set.
Since it would not take all morning for the baking he asked for, she turned and found him standing just behind her. His expression flashed into something she could not read before it smoothed out and he smiled.
“Find everything you need?”
Shaw nodded then asked, “Is there anything I can do to help with breakfast?”
Which is how she found herself bouncing between three waffle makers. While she made dozens of waffles, Marshall cooked bacon, link sausages, and a couple dozen eggs.
Shaw’s words to explain her early morning grumps rocked his world. Kevin had said she needed a few days to recover, but Marshall had been dragging his feet on claiming his mate. He wanted to be sure she was happy both at Bratburg and with him because once they mated, she would not have any option but to stay with him for the rest of their lives.
Allowing her to make desserts was the first step in integrating her fully into her new life. Tonight, after dinner was finished and they had prepared what they could for the next morning’s breakfast, he would sit her down and they would talk once again about mates, mating, and what it meant for the rest of their lives.
Then, if she still agreed, he would carry her to his bed and fully claim her as the mate he would spend the rest of his life loving, protecting, and caring for.
But first, they needed to get through today. His tiger was making it difficult to stay focused on the tasks at hand, ending up with him laying his hand on the grill as he was pulling bacon off of it.
Without a word, he transferred the bacon to a platter one-handed. Only when it was safely handed off to one of the young women assigned as the breakfast runner did he hurry to the sink and turn on the cold tap. With a pained, muttered curse, he stuck his hand under the water.
“Chef? What did you do?” Shaw asked as she approached and peeked around his arm.
“Just touched something I shouldn’t have,” he said, trying to make light of the incident. This wasn’t the first time he had burned himself and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. At least as a shifter, he would heal quickly and be able to get back to work in an hour or so.
“I’ll get Kevin,” Shaw said stepping away quickly.
“No, don’t bother,” he called, though a glance told him she was already out of the kitchen.
Two minutes later, his hand was nearly frozen as she pushed past the people standing in the doorway. Kevin followed her into the kitchen with a frown. It wasn’t until they stood beside him that Marshall realized she held the man’s wrist in a death grip.
“Waif, I’m fine. It’s just a little burn,” he said gently.
In his experience, Littles hated injuries of any kind – theirs, or anyone else’s. Apparently Shaw was no different. Ignoring him, she pointed to the sink with one shaking hand while flapping her other hand as if it were her hand that was injured.
“See, I told you he’s hurt. He needs you to fix him.” She sounded panicked and looked pale as she looked from his hand to Kevin once more.
“All right, Shaw. I’ll take care of him. Why don’t you check to make sure all the stove and hot appliances are turned off.”
As she hurried away, Marshall noticed that Kevin was not the only outsider in his kitchen. Lonergan and Kodiak, the head of institute security, were standing well inside his kitchen with their arms extended to keep the resident Littles from rushing across the room at him.
“I’m fine,” he told Kevin before turning his attention to the crowd. “Whoever is still in my kitchen in three seconds will be put to work cleaning every square inch of the dining hall floor … with toothbrushes,” he said in his growly, grumpy chef voice.
It was the voice that kept everyone out of his kitchen between meals. The growl, combined with his heavy wooden spoon, also kept the trainees assigned to help in the kitchen on the straight and narrow.
Before he even started the count, the kitchen emptied, leaving just him, Kevin, and Shaw. She now stood next to the refrigerator watching him with wide, tear-filled eyes. He could see her trembling from here. Though he would prefer to give her a hug and cuddle, he had a feeling she might not appreciate the gesture, no matter how much she needed it. After all, they were at work and not in the privacy of the cabin.