How was it that the dirty dishes in her kitchen seemed to multiply every time Faith wasn’t paying attention?

She had caught up on chores while Chloe had been with her dad, but within an hour of Chloe’s return, the house looked as though a tornado had torn through it.

A six-year-old tornado.

Toys were scattered across the living room floor; a trail of cookie crumbs led from the kitchen to the couch, and the dishes from dinner were still sitting in the sink.

Sighing, Faith pushed up her sleeves and started loading the dishwasher.

Chloe burst into the kitchen. “Can I have another cookie, Mom?”

Faith shook her head. “No more cookies. It’s time for bed. Did you brush your teeth?”

“I’m a dragon. Dragons don’t need to brush their teeth. Rawr!” Chloe puffed her cheeks out and pretended to blow fire.

“Very impressive,” Faith replied. “But dragons need clean teeth too. Otherwise, how would you scare the knights?”

The cutest little wrinkle formed between Chloe’s brows as she seemed to consider it. “Don’t knights get scared of dirty teeth?”

“No,” Faith said, trying to keep a straight face. “Shiny teeth are the scariest.”

“Okay! I’ll scrub them until they’re scarily clean!” Chloe darted from the kitchen, then trampled up the stairs.

Chuckling, Faith turned back toward the dishes.

Her phone buzzed on the counter.

Faith picked it up and unlocked the screen.

She had a new message from Tala—hopefully a reply to Faith’s earlier text, the one where she’d asked Tala for another date. Well, fake date.

Her stomach had been in knots ever since she’d stolen the USB drive the day before. She desperately needed to sneak it back into the laptop bag before Tala noticed it was missing.

Random question, Tala’s message said. What’s the most tender, romantic gesture anyone’s ever done for you?

Faith stared at the screen. Was this about planning another fake date? Are you trying to out-romance humans and impress our audience on social media?

Something like that, came Tala’s reply. So?

God, Tala was so competitive! Faith thought for a moment. Jon hadn’t been the most creative when it came to romantic gestures, so nothing really stood out. If I say giving me flowers or perfume, that’s probably not going to work for a Wrasa, is it? she typed.

No, Tala replied. Tell me something else.

Hey, I’m divorced for a reason.

Okay, then think about it differently, Tala typed back. What would be the most tender, romantic thing someone could do for you right now?

Faith looked around her chaotic kitchen. Come over and help me clean the kitchen?

It took a while before Tala’s reply arrived. Clean the kitchen? Is that a human fetish?

Faith laughed. Who knows? Maybe it is. I have a thing for clean dishes and sparkling countertops.

She paused and reread the message she’d just sent. Why did bantering with Tala seem to come so naturally? It really shouldn’t. They had nothing in common—they didn’t even belong to the same species!

Chloe skidded into the kitchen and flashed her a broad grin. “Are you scared?”

Faith blinked. Was she? She should be. Tala was still a shape-shifter, not someone she could trust, and yet she kept catching herself starting to relax around her! “Um, yes?” she finally said. It sounded more like a question than an answer.

“Good. Because they’re scary clean now.” Chloe showed off her teeth again.

Oh. Of course. She was talking about her teeth. “Great. The knights will tremble in their boots when they see your shiny dragon teeth.”

“Knights don’t wear boots, Mom. They wear armor.”

“Right,” Faith said with a smile. “Well, your teeth now outshine their armor. Why don’t you pick a story, hop into bed, and I’ll be right there?”

Chloe nodded and ran from the room.

Faith glanced at her phone.

Not sure the majority of our audience shares your fetish, Tala had written. But it gives me an idea I can work with.

What idea? Faith asked.

We’ll do the one thing humans and Wrasa seem to have in common.

Faith racked her brain. What did both species have in common, other than their distrust for each other? Maybe she had stayed up too late, reading one of the spicy romances on Tala’s USB drive, but right now, only one thing came to mind. You’re not talking about sex, are you?

Is that an offer? Tala replied, and Faith could almost see the mischievous curl of her lips.

Before she could think of an answer, Tala added, Keep dreaming, human. I was talking about food. We’ll cook a romantic meal together. Maybe a Wrasa entree and a human dessert.

Right. Of course that’s what she’d meant.

“Mom!” Chloe shouted from upstairs.

“Coming,” Faith shouted back. She typed out a quick reply. Deal. As long as you clean the kitchen afterward. With a slight grin, she pocketed the phone and climbed the stairs.

~ ~ ~

Maybe cooking together wasn’t the tender, romantic couples’ activity Madsen had asked for after all.

On Friday evening, Tala’s kitchen was a battlefield of culinary philosophies.

“Wrasa don’t have recipes?” Faith asked for the third time. She stared at Tala as if she had said they preferred to eat their meat raw. “None at all?”

Tala shook her head. “We prefer to improvise and rely on our keen senses to adjust flavors and add ingredients. Besides, few things in our culture have been handed down in a written format. It was simply too dangerous.”

Faith turned away from the stove, leaned one hip against the counter, and regarded her. “Dangerous? What do you mean?”

“During the Inquisition, my kind was hunted relentlessly and nearly driven to extinction. Any hint of being different could mean being burned at the stake or killed some other way. We started passing down knowledge only orally to avoid leaving any evidence. A lot of our culture and Old Language was lost over the centuries.” Tala rubbed her breastbone as the familiar ache welled up. The lost songs, stories, and traditions seemed to linger like ghosts.

Faith stepped closer and reached out as if to touch her, then stopped and let her hand drop back to her side. “I’m sorry. But that was the Middle Ages. Couldn’t you try to preserve parts of your culture before they’re lost completely? I mean, now that things have changed…”

“Have they?” Tala asked in a rough whisper. “We might not be burned at the stake anymore, but what people like your father want to do to us is probably not much better.”

“That’s not… I don’t… I…” Faith bit her lip.

They looked at each other.

Faith’s gaze was open and compassionate. She probably thought she was just asking or making a helpful suggestion.

Tala sighed. She knew she could turn this into a bitter fight, but what good would it do? It certainly wouldn’t help her mission. Their PR unit would already have to edit out this part of their interaction, which she was recording via the tripod and camera she’d set up in the corner of the kitchen.

So she forced the corners of her mouth up into the semblance of a smile. “Maybe we should have gone with sex.”

They were so close that Faith couldn’t hide her blush. “Pardon me?”

“The one activity both of our species have in common,” Tala said. “Maybe we should have gone with—”

“Cooking,” Faith said firmly. “And since there’s no recipe, you’ll have to talk me through the steps.”

“All right. You can be my sous chef.”

“Only if you’ll be my sous chef when we’re making dessert,” Faith replied.

Great Hunter, this woman didn’t give an inch. Secretly, Tala admired her for it, but, of course, she would never admit it. “Deal.” She took two aprons from one of the drawers in the kitchen, which had come fully equipped, and put on one of them. Instead of handing over the other one, she slid the neck strap over Faith’s head and adjusted it for her.

The mate scent perfume wafted up, and she inadvertently leaned closer. Great Hunter, that stuff was like a drug!

Her fingers grazed Faith’s neck.

Goose bumps spread beneath her fingertips.

Were they the pleasant kind, or was Faith still afraid of having her close?

The amounts of perfume Faith must have put on made it hard to tell, so Tala snatched her hands away. She tied the apron strings at the small of Faith’s back before heading to the fridge to give her some space.

“Why did you put on the perfume even though it’s just the two of us tonight?” she asked, her back turned to Faith.

“To fool any Wrasa I might run into—like the woman behind the front desk downstairs.”

Faith’s answer came promptly. Maybe a little too promptly. Tala had a feeling Faith had put on the perfume mostly to fool her , masking whenever she was lying. “What makes you think she’s one of us?”

“Well, she’s wearing an ID tag. Plus she had the most judgmental look on her face when I showed up with flowers for our first date…and with a bottle of gin for the second.”

Tala chuckled, but at the same time, she told herself to be careful and not let her guard down around Faith. The woman was too observant for her own good.

When Tala returned from the fridge with a big container and took the lid off, Faith peeked over. “What are we making?”

“Lamb stew Peterson family style.”

“So your family is coming too? Because this”—Faith pointed at the five pounds of cubed lamb leg Tala had bought—“would be enough to feed all of them.”

Tala burst out laughing. “You have no idea.”

“Big family?” Faith asked.

“Big family, big eaters. This wouldn’t even be an appetizer.”

Faith probably assumed she was exaggerating. Humans had no concept of Wrasa portion sizes.

Tala washed her hands, then seasoned the meat, adding a bit more pepper and salt than she usually would because she knew it would appeal to human taste buds.

“Need me to chop anything?” Faith asked as they waited for the olive oil to heat up. “Onions? Garlic?”

“There aren’t any onions or garlic in this dish.”

Faith grinned. “You are not, by any chance, hoping for a good-night kiss, are you?”

Warmth welled up from the pit of Tala’s belly. But, of course, she knew Faith was only saying that for the sake of the camera. For the same reason, she let her gaze trail over Faith’s lips. Besides, she wouldn’t tell thousands of humans on social media that garlic and onions were mildly toxic to Wrasa. “Well,” she said, her voice dipping low, “you said you’d provide dessert, so…”

Faith flushed so hard, even the tips of her ears turned red.

Kinda cute. Was that a human thing or a Faith thing?

It’s a thing you should not find cute, Tala firmly told herself. She’s spying for HASS! Faith might even have another listening device on her person.

Under the pretense of browning the meat, Tala turned away. “You can get started on the potatoes, if you want.”

Soon, they were working side by side, peeling and chopping.

Tala was starting to see why cooking could be considered a romantic activity because they kept leaning close and stretching past each other to reach for an ingredient or a utensil.

“You’re very good at this.” Faith glanced over at Tala, who was slicing the carrots while she waited for the vegetable stock she had added to the pot to boil.

Tala paused and shrugged. “Most Wrasa are.”

“Really?”

“What, you thought we would just slap a raw steak onto the table and call it cooking?” Tala shook her head. “We love to eat, and human cuisine doesn’t always agree with our digestive system, so cooking it is.”

“I know what you mean. Chloe is lactose-intolerant, so I cook a lot too.” The potato she’d been peeling slipped from Faith’s grasp, as if she was surprised at having mentioned her daughter again.

Tala lunged and caught it before it could end up on the floor. “Here.” She handed it back.

Their fingers brushed.

Tala’s nostrils flared as she breathed in the mate scent perfume. That stuff was really messing with her mind! She quickly backed away and busied herself adding more thyme and mint flakes.

Soon, the kitchen filled with delicious aromas that, thankfully, distracted Tala from the perfume.

“What now?” Faith asked once they’d added all the ingredients. “Are we going to transfer it to the oven?”

Tala’s stomach rumbled in protest at the thought of slow-cooking the stew for several hours. “No. We just cook it on the stove for another half hour. Slow-cooking isn’t a thing in Wrasa cuisine. We’d have an entire ravenous pack clawing and snarling at the kitchen door if we did that.”

Faith hunched her shoulders and rubbed her arms as if a shudder had gone through her.

She couldn’t possibly be cold in the balmy warm kitchen, could she?

“Okay,” Faith said, sounding reasonably normal. “That gives us just enough time to prepare dessert.”

Tala flashed her a wolfish grin. “Nah. Half an hour isn’t nearly enough time to thoroughly kiss you.” She made sure she wasn’t blocking the camera from capturing Faith’s blush.

“Not that kind of dessert.” Faith playfully threw something in her direction.

Thinking it was a piece of carrot, Tala snatched it up the way she had the olive on their Mario Kart date.

An earthy taste filled her mouth. Ugh. It was a bit of potato peel. Tala spat it into the sink.

Faith bent over laughing.

Tala resisted the urge to pounce on her to… She wasn’t even sure what for. Certainly not to tickle her into submission since Wrasa didn’t do that.

“I was thinking we could make a berry crumble from the berries I brought,” Faith said. “But if you’d rather eat potato peels…”

Tala’s mouth watered, and she could already taste the tangy yet sweet aroma on her tongue. Berries were her secret weakness, but unlike most fox-shifters, her pack didn’t care for them, so she faked indifference. It had been years since she’d last had them. “No, berry crumble is acceptable. Barely.” She scrunched up her nose and made sure the camera caught it, just in case some wolf-shifters would end up watching the reel. With a dramatic flair, she added, “Oh, the things we do for love.”

Faith pressed a package of oats into her hands. “Here. You can make the crumble while I prepare the berry mix. Unless you’re afraid to get your hands dirty. I use coconut oil instead of melted butter, and you have to really rub it into the oats, the coconut sugar, and the other dry ingredients.”

Tala smirked. “No problem. I’m really good at rubbing until everything is nice and slippery.”

This time, it was a strawberry Faith threw at her, and Tala caught it in her mouth with an inaudible excited yip.

~ ~ ~

By the time they slid the berry crumble into the oven, the lamb stew simmering on the stove seemed ready to be devoured.

When Faith lifted the lid off the pot, a heavenly aroma drifted up. It reminded her of the stew her mother used to make on cold winter days when Faith had been little. How strange that the Wrasa had something similar. Or maybe it wasn’t so strange after all. With the Wrasa relying solely on oral tradition to pass on the recipe to the next generation, it had probably been altered by the influence of human cuisine over the centuries.

“How’s it looking?” Tala asked from close behind her—so close that Faith could feel her heat against her back. Tala leaned up on her tiptoes to peek into the pot and noisily inhaled, then exhaled. Her breath brushed Faith’s ear, sending a shiver through her.

“Um, I think it’s ready for a taste test.” Faith dipped a clean spoon into the stew, then blew on it to cool it down. Carefully, she slid it into her mouth.

Complex flavors mingled on her tongue. The broth was thick and rich. The sweetness of the carrots contrasted with a hint of acidity from the tomatoes and the fresh note of mint.

“Yum.” She hummed as she turned toward Tala and pulled the spoon from her mouth. “It’s delicious. But I think it needs a little something. Maybe some chili powder.”

“Chili powder?” Tala arched her brows. “Into a perfectly good stew? We’re not trying to set our mouths on fire.”

“Hey, a little spice never hurt anyone.” Faith paused. Well, at least not a human. But the Wrasa’s digestive system seemed a lot more fragile than she had realized. What if spicy food ended up making Tala sick? “Here. See what you think.” She dipped a new spoon into the stew, turned, and brought it to Tala’s mouth.

Tala froze. Her nostrils flared, and her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. But instead of opening her mouth wider and tasting the stew, she tried to take the spoon from her.

Faith held on. “Our human followers will consider this very romantic,” she whispered.

Tala frantically shook her head. “That’s not a good idea, Faith.”

“What do you mean?” Seriously? Tala had joked around and spewed innuendo about having sex and kissing her, but this was what gave her pause?

“If I accept the food you’re offering and let you feed me like this, every Wrasa watching the video will think…” Tala trailed off.

“Will think what?” Faith prompted.

Tala stood frozen to the spot, her expression serious, as if they were discussing an action of grave consequences. “They’ll think…” Her pupils widened as if a sudden realization had struck her. “Hmm. Exactly what we want them to think.” She hesitated for a moment longer, then leaned forward and closed her lips around the spoon Faith still held out to her.

A deep moan rumbled up from her chest.

The sensual sound made Faith flush again. She stepped back quickly. A little noise shouldn’t affect her like that. But then again, she’d been single for ages, and she was only human.

Yeah, but Tala isn’t. And that was why she shouldn’t react to her at all. If her father ever found out…

Tala licked a dab of sauce off her bottom lip. “I was right. It’s perfect the way it is. If we add any heat, we’d just spoil it.”

“Right. No more heat.” Faith dropped the spoon into the sink. “Now excuse me while I go lounge on the couch until the berry crumble is done.”

Tala narrowed her eyes at her. “You mean we , don’t you? It’s my territory…um, I mean, couch after all.”

“Yeah, but you promised to clean the kitchen.” Before Tala could protest, Faith chuckled and sauntered past her, glad to get some much-needed distance…and a chance to put the USB drive back into the laptop bag without Tala noticing.