Page 93 of A Broody Mate for the Human

“It’s not a problem.” She waves me off. “I have tons of vegetables in my garden. How about some creamy polenta with mushrooms, eggplant, and fresh sage?”

Excuse me? Can this woman adopt me?

“Sounds fantastic!” I beam.

“And for the quiet young man, I’ll prepare some spicy chili con carne with lots of rice and meat.”

When Raffy remains silent, I elbow him. “Oh, sorry,” he mutters, sounding flustered. “I’d love to have some chili.”

“What’s the issue?” I whisper when we take some of our luggage upstairs to our room.

“Nothing,” he grumbles. “I just don’t know…” He makes a gesture downstairs and then back to himself. “I have no idea how you do that.”

“Talk?” I want to know.

“Just know how to have small talk,” he admits. “And chat and have people open up to you.”

“But you talk to me,” I point out.

Raffy grumbles and mutters something.

“Huh?” I blink.

“You’re easy to talk to,” he growls. I could be wrong, but I swear I see a hint of red on his cheeks like he is blushing.

I must be imagining things.

Raffy turns around. “Let’s go outside with the drool monster and then have dinner,” he grumbles.

I smile while I follow him outside. He always tries so hard to be cool and pretends he doesn’t care for anything, but it’s obvious he does. He makes sure to run around with Sugar to get him moving and tire him out, all the while making sure I’m feeling comfortable too.

I feel my phone vibrating, taking it out to read a message. It’s from Annie. My heart skips a beat when I open it, hastily reading its contents before relief fills me. She wrote that they managed to track Finn’s phone. He seems to be moving, which is good!

They can find him that way, and I can fully focus on helping Raffy for now.

“Your friend is nice,” the landlady approaches me.

I nod. “He is.”

“I can recognize a good guy if I see one.” She smiles warmly. There are wrinkles around her eyes, making me realize she is probably a bit older than I thought she would be. Even worse for keeping her up so late and having her cook for us. “Are you…” she whispers. “You know…”

I feel my cheeks heat up. “What…” I mutter. “I mean… no… why would we…”

Raffy chooses this moment to pick up a stick from the ground and throw it in Sugar’s direction, wanting him to catch it. My adorable dunce of a dog just looks at it in awe, sniffing shortly at the stick and then deciding to chase a leaf. Raffy throws his hands in the air, making me laugh.

He must have heard me laugh because his head whips to the side, and he looks at me surprised before his lips tug into a smile.

“I thought it was obvious,” the landlady says in amusement. “But who am I to pry? Dinner is ready whenever you are.”

I take a moment to recover from her suggestion, trying to get my cool back, before I call for Raffy to come in. We leave Sugar in the garden for now, allowing him to play and jump around to his liking.

The polenta tastes fantastic, and I make sure to tell the nice landlady over and over again how awesome it is. Raffy seems to be happy with his chili, too, because he chews happily on it, grunting here and there and happily accepting seconds.

“Do you want to taste my polenta?” I ask him with a grin. “That’s a huge sacrifice, just so you know, because it tastes heavenly.”

I know werewolves are meat-eaters… in large doses, but I’m surprised when Raffy nods and readily accepts a spoonful of my dinner. He nods, smiling at me. “Good,” he says.

“Just good?”