Finding My Pack

Finding My Pack by Lane Whitt Read Free Book Online

Book: Finding My Pack by Lane Whitt Read Free Book Online
Authors: Lane Whitt
Tags: Romance, Paranormal, New Adult & College, Werewolves & Shifters
swallow them down.
     
      Ash leans into me, looking at my plate longingly. "Is he making us all omelets, Kell?" He asks.
     
      "No worries Ash, he's making them for everyone. He wouldn't do that to you," Kellan says laughing.
     
      "Good," Ash says in his gruff voice, leaning back and looking at me, "Tristan makes the best omelets."
     
      It certainly smells good. Little do they know that I'm not that picky. Moments later, Tristan starts carrying plates in for the guys, all with omelets on them, and other plates stacked with bacon, sausage, ham, and toast that he places in the middle. Kellan took a seat next to his twin so Tristan takes the last seat open beside Ash on his other side.
     
      Once he's seated, everyone begins eating or reaching for things. Ash holds out a plate of sausage, raising a brow in question to me. I nod and he puts several sausage patties on my plate. I pick up my fork, about to start when I remember how I made a fool of myself the day before. I look around me and decide to act civilized in front of these gorgeous boys.
     
      I see Jace across from me, next to Reed. He's already eating, using his fork and knife to cut the egg into small pieces, taking his time. I mimic what he's doing. When he takes a bite, I take a bite. When he takes a sip of coffee, I take a sip of juice. When Jace wipes at the corners of his mouth with his napkin, I do the same. Because this is the first time in a long time I didn't feel the need to eat in a hurry, I actually taste what I'm eating.  Ash was right, this is amazing. The egg is fluffy and light with ham, cheese and onions on every forkful. I wonder how I'm ever going to go back to cold cans of soup and off-brand lunch meat packs after tasting Tristan's food.
     
      Now that I think I have Jace's routine down, I look away from him and see Remy watching me. My hand pauses halfway to my mouth. Oh no! He must have been watching me watch Jace. I probably look like a total creeper. I wouldn't blame him for thinking that either. Jace is as attractive as the rest of them. He's the quintessential golden boy. Hair the color of sunlight, eyes as blue as the sky. And the five o'clock shadow he's sporting isn't hurting either. There is something enchanting and refined about Jace. His fluid movements and the way he holds his body. A really, really good looking body...
     
       I shake myself from those thoughts. Now I really am creeping on Jace like Remy probably thought I was. I turn away from them both. Let them think what they want. What does it matter anyway? As I turn, I notice Tristan is watching me too. Well, me and my plate. He has a hopeful look in his chocolate eyes. Oh, I realize I've stopped eating. I probably insulted him. I take another bite and wipe my mouth before speaking.
     
      "This is wonderful Tristan, Maybe the best thing I've ever eaten."
     
      Tristan beams at me, using that kind voice of his, "Thank you, Kitten, I'm glad you like it". For the rest of breakfast, a satisfied smile stays on his face.
     
        After I'm stuffed to full capacity, I sit and watch the guys finish eating. As soon as Logan is done he pushes his plate away and jumps up, clapping his hands together.
     
      "Okay, Kitten, time to do something about that hair. To quote you from yesterday, 'your hair looks like crap". He says, chuckling a little. It makes me laugh too but earns a few frowns from the table. I guess we have an inside joke.
     
      Logan takes my hand in his holding it all way back to Tristan's bathroom. He picks several things from the drawers and directs me to stand in front of him. He lifts me by my hips, placing me on the counter, between the twin sinks. I gasp, looking at him like he's crazy. That seemed so effortless for him.
     
      "Oh come on, stop looking at me like that. You weigh what? Eighty pounds soaking wet? Are you even five foot Kitten?" He says playfully. I mumble, "I'm five foot one thank you very much. A buck seven too." He hears

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