Olivia kissed him again, then went to get dressed. Torren got back into the shower to quickly wash, then he dried off and went into the bedroom to pull on some underwear and jeans. Since claiming a mate, he’d gotten better about keeping the house picked up and his laundry washed. Olivia had offered to do those things for him, but he hadn’t wanted her to feel like a slave. There was no reason he couldn’t wash his own clothes.
Being mated to her was so different from being with Gwen.
Not once in the time they’d been together, had Gwen ever offered to help him with anything. If she lost her temper, she never apologized. And not once did she ever consider how something she did or said would affect him. He’d never realized how selfish Gwen was, or how unhappy. Part of the responsibility for her death rested on his shoulders. If he hadn’t agreed to the mating, or if he’d set her free, then maybe she’d still be alive. But she was partially to blame as well. If she had been sneaking around with someone, like he suspected, then maybe her death could have been avoided if she’d been honest with him. She’d lied to him, and he wondered if she’d lied to the person who had killed her. Being with Olivia was opening his eyes a bit more. She was nothing like Gwen, and it made him wonder just how well he’d known his other mate.
He shook the thoughts from his mind and went to find Olivia. She was in the kitchen cleaning up the remains of their failed breakfast. Torren took the plates from her, dumped the food into the trash, then set the dishes in the sink. Then he steered her toward the table, pulled out a chair, and forced her to sit.
“I’ll cook. You just sit there and look pretty.”
She rolled her eyes, but he could see that she was at least a little amused. It was the light in her eyes as she looked at him.
“Why don’t I make omelets this time?” he suggested.
“You don’t have to cook for me, Torren.”
“I like taking care of you,” he said as he rummaged through the fridge. He pulled out another carton of eggs, some ham steaks, a block of cheese, an onion, and a green bell pepper.
While the ham steaks sizzled in the skillet, he diced the pepper and onion. Torren removed the cooked ham from the skillet and sliced it up into small chunks, then he mixed some cracked eggs and a bit of milk in a bowl and beat them until they were frothy. He tossed in the ham, peppers, and onion, added a bit of cheese, and poured half into the skillet. After Olivia’s omelet was finished cooking, he plated it and topped it with more shredded cheese. As an afterthought, he pulled sour cream and salsa from the fridge and set them on the table in case she needed them.
“Go ahead and eat,” he said, as he started fixing his.
Keeping one eye on the food, and another on his mate, he made sure that she ate a good meal. Now that she was carrying his child, he’d have to keep an even closer eye on her. Make sure she ate well, keep her stress to a minimum. All the things a good mate would do. He smiled as he thought about what their future might be like. He’d been given a second chance, and he wasn’t going to blow it.
