Twenty minutes later, and I'm just dishing up the fries and steak sandwiches when a spotless blond boy in sweatpants and a top that looks a little too big for him appears in the doorway.
I glance at him and nod. "Nearly fits. I could've probably gone down a size, but I'm glad I didn't." I point at a stool, so he knows where to sit, then I start for the refrigerator.
"Why not?" he asks.
"Because I fully intend on stuffing you with more cookies and steak."
I grab a couple of cans of soda for us, as well as the coleslaw I whipped up and ketchup for the fries.
He's already digging in, eating quickly, but not as fast as he did before. I hope it's because he knows he doesn't have to worry about food again, that if he's ever hungry, he knows he can stop by.
Although I have my plate dished up, there's plenty more in the pan for the boy, as well as for Jackson when he comes back. I try to convince myself that Jackson talking with the boy the other night is a good sign that he won't freak out and run.
I hope.
So, while I wait for Jackson to return before I eat, I lean against the refrigerator. "How is it?"
The boy nods and swallows. "Good." He lowers the foot-long sub stuffed with sliced steak. "Thanks, Regan."
I grin at him. "That's awesome…?" I let my voice trail off as I wait to see if I'm going to be rewarded with a name.
After a bare hesitation, he darts a glance at my face. "Riley."
He goes back to eating, his gaze on the plate of rapidly disappearing food in front of him.
Riley. He told me his name.
Nodding, I turn around and try to look busy in an attempt to hide my eyes filling with tears that he's trusting me with his name.
When I hear a car pull up outside, I blink away my tears and tilt my head at the sound because it doesn't sound like Jackson's truck.
"Wait here," I tell Riley, as I start for the doorway.
I feel his gaze on me, and then I hear his chair leg scraping as he immediately follows me out of the kitchen and through the hallway to the front door.
All the way, my frown deepens because the person in the car outside isn't Jackson. I hear the driver park and immediately get out.
It's a shifter. Female, I guess, but I don't recognize her scent. All I know is that she's no one I've met before.
Whoever she is can likely tell that not only am I a shifter but that I'm on my way to opening the front door, yet it doesn't stop her from banging hard on the door.
My frown deepens at the rudeness.
Riley doesn't follow me to the front door. I hear his footsteps stop near the staircase and I guess it's so he can make a quick escape to the back door if he wants to.
Once I jerk the door open, I'm confronted by the sight of a tall, slender woman in what looks like an expensive blue wrap-dress, with a long wave of deep auburn hair and bright green eyes. She would be pretty, if she weren't glaring so hard at me.
Her gaze immediately goes behind me. "Where's Jack?"
Again, unbelievably rude. But whatever.
I stare at her, wondering who she's talking about. "Uh, this is a rental. There isn't a Jack here, maybe he…" Halfway through, I realize she isn't listening to a word I'm telling her, so I let my voice trail off.
Before I can stop her, she shoves the door the rest of the way open and practically barges me out of the way as she steps in, wheeling one of those tiny designer suitcases that look like they can hold maybe a t-shirt at a push. "Hey!"
She turns to me and raises an eyebrow. "He's here. I can smell him. You must be the woman who's been keeping his bed warm for me."
I just manage to stop myself from tackling her. "Excuse me!"
Although I'm pissed at her rudeness, I can't stop myself flushing at her words because it would take one sniff for any shifter who entered this house to know what happened between me and Jackson in the kitchen. Riley, luckily, is polite enough not to mention it because I'm guessing he didn't want to embarrass me. But this woman…
"I'm saying you've been fucking my mate."
I go still. "What?!"
My heart starts racing because it doesn't sound like she's lying.
"I think I was clear enough." She heaves a sigh. "But clearly, not enough for you. I'll repeat myself, shall I?"
I don't respond because I'm still stuck on thirty seconds ago, trying to process what she just said.
"You are fucking my mate, Jackson Stone. My fated mate. So, you need to leave. Now. The boy can take my bag upstairs."
She keeps speaking, but by then, I've stopped listening.
Jackson has a fated mate. One he knew about because otherwise, how else would this woman know he was hers if they hadn't already met. Did he tell her he was here? Because he must have. How else would she have known to find him here?
And we had sex. More than once.
From a distance, I hear the back door slamming, which jerks me to my senses because I remember Riley.
When I turn to the spot beside the staircase, of course, I find him gone. Not that I can blame him. Running into the forest sounds like a great idea right about now.
"Are you deaf?" she snaps when I don't respond. "I told you to leave. Now."
"What the fuck are you doing here, Lara?" Jackson's voice is colder than I've ever heard it before.
I spin around and find him standing in the open doorway, his truck keys in his hands and a dark glare on his face that he's aiming squarely at his mate.
At his fated mate, Regan. A man you just spent the night with. Didn't he say he had a thing for redheads with green eyes? He meant her. Lara. Not me.
I can't be here.
I dart around the woman and sprint down the hallway, and out of the back door, the only thought in my head to get far, far away from the toxic woman behind me and the man who isn't mine but for a moment, made me think he was.