9
CORD
After we washed Rachel, I left Nash to help her dry off while I rustled up some food.
We’d been too impassioned to leave the barbecue and jump in the sack to grab any food, and I’d heard Rachel’s stomach growl in the shower. The urge to feed her, to take care of all her bodily needs, nearly made my wolf frantic.
I pulled out a loaf of bread and some turkey slices and went about making bacon, turkey, avocado sandwiches—my personal favorite. It was strange that my wolf felt settled enough to leave my unmarked mate, even for a moment, but I supposed that was because Nash was with her. It said something that my wolf trusted Nash, because after his display of aggression back at Gib’s house, I wasn’t entirely sure. And unlike other shifters in the pack who’d known their scent mate for
