Sera POV
The conference room felt heavier now that the notes were packed away and the screens were dark. We were all running on fumes, but there was still that quiet buzz of accomplishment in the air.
Kaiden was the first to break the silence, the sound of his stomach growling cutting through the stillness.
"I'm starving. Anyone up for some pizza? Or maybe tacos?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I'm not craving junk food or fast food. Not yet, anyway." My tone was softer than it had been during the meeting. Then I called toward the front desk, "Mary?"
I looked up just in time to see Mary—my ever-efficient secretary—already halfway into her coat, making a beeline for the door like a criminal fleeing a crime scene.
"Take care, Mary, don't forget your medications!" I called after her, giggling when she picked up her pace like I'd just threatened her with overtime.
"Oh, is it closing already?" I glanced at my watch and frowned. "I'm sorry, I lost track of time."
"It's fine, boss," Kaiden said, patting his stomach like it needed comforting. "But my stomach's on a very strict schedule. We've got to find somewhere to eat."
Zaire stepped in, his voice calm and practical. "We could go somewhere proper. Somewhere with actual food. I know a place nearby."
Theo just watched me, patient as ever, like he was waiting for my approval before anything else moved forward.
I mentally ran through my list of restaurants, but most would be closing soon. Sure, I had partnerships with a few places, but I wasn't about to call in a favor and have someone refire a kitchen at this hour. "Sorry, boys. I know how much work those warzones are—I'd rather not disturb them." I gave a small, apologetic smile.
"There is one," Zaire said with quiet confidence.
I tilted my head, my curiosity instantly catching on that glint in his eyes. "Oh?"
"Would you be fine if I re-offered being your cook… even just for tonight?" he asked, voice low but laced with certainty.
The memory of the first night we'd met flickered through my mind, and I chuckled. "Okay, you win."
Zaire's smile shifted—warmer, softer than the sharp professionalism I'd seen all day. It was… different.
"Well, you guys get back first. I'll have to pick up some groceries," he said.
"I don't mind joining you," I offered. "I'm after snacks as well."
One dark brow lifted. "Snacks will ruin your dinner."
That gentle command sent a small, unexpected flip through my chest. It wasn't the cold, suffocating control Jack used to demand—it was… something else entirely. My teeth grazed my lower lip before I could stop myself, and his gaze dropped to the motion, catching it. A hint of a smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth, like he knew exactly what that look meant.
The moment was broken when Kaiden groaned dramatically. "Sorry, but my shifter genes suck when I'm hungry."
I laughed, shaking my head as I moved to the door. "Let's go before you faint in the hallway."
I stepped out first, holding the door open for them, and we made our way to the garage. One glance, and I instantly pegged which ride belonged to which man—sleek black for Zaire, loud and flashy for Kaiden, understated precision for Theo.
"I'll see you guys home in a few minutes," I said as I slid into my own car. They nodded, the unspoken agreement hanging in the air.
---
We pulled out of the garage together, the low rumble of engines echoing in the concrete space. Zaire took the lead, his SUV moving with a kind of deliberate precision that made it clear he drove the same way he fought—controlled, purposeful, and with no room for error.
I followed, watching the taillights cut through the night until we reached the grocery store.
The automatic doors slid open, bathing us in too-bright fluorescent light and the faint scent of fresh bread and disinfectant. Zaire's stride was unhurried but confident, like the aisles were just another terrain he'd already mapped out in his head.
I fell into step beside him, basket in hand. "Do you always shop like you're clearing a perimeter?" I teased, watching him scan the produce section before even touching a tomato.
"Old habits," he said simply, picking up a bundle of fresh herbs and turning them in his hand. "Besides, I don't like surprises in my kitchen."
I hummed, pretending to inspect a display of apples. "Control freak."
One dark brow arched. "Says the woman who color-coded her meeting agenda today and cross-referenced it with our security protocols."
I opened my mouth to argue—then shut it again. "…Touché."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips before he moved toward the meat section. I noticed how he didn't just grab the first pack—he inspected every cut like he was vetting a new recruit. It was oddly… calming to watch him work.
"Do you cook for everyone you work with, or am I special?" I asked lightly, though my eyes were fixed on him.
"You're special," he said without hesitation. Then, almost as if realizing what he'd said, he added, "Mostly because I don't trust Kaiden not to burn water."
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "Fair point."
We drifted toward the spice aisle. I reached for a jar of smoked paprika, but his hand came down over mine before I could grab it.
"You don't need that," he said, voice low. "I've already got a blend in mind."
I tilted my head. "What, no paprika in the blend?"
He leaned in just enough for his shoulder to brush mine. "Trust me."
The moment lingered, heat curling in my chest before I stepped away with a quiet, "We'll see."
Next came the snack aisle—my territory. I made a beeline for the dark chocolate almonds, but his hand caught mine again before I could drop them into the basket.
"I told you—snacks will ruin dinner," he said.
I raised a brow. "You really think you can stop me?"
That sharp smirk returned. "I can try."
I tossed the almonds in anyway. "Guess we'll see who wins."
His chuckle followed me down the aisle, warm and low.
We made a detour to the bakery, where I pointed out a loaf of fresh sourdough. He hesitated before picking it up. "This… might be worth bending the menu for," he admitted.
"Look at you—living dangerously," I teased.
By the time we reached the checkout, the basket was full of vegetables, herbs, perfectly chosen cuts of meat… and my contraband almonds. As we loaded the bags into the back of his SUV, I caught him looking at me—not in that sharp, assessing way from the boardroom, but softer.
Almost reluctant.
For a moment, I had the ridiculous thought that he didn't actually want this grocery run to end.
"Let's get back," he said finally, sliding into the driver's seat. But his tone had changed—quieter, like part of him wanted to stretch the night out just a little longer.
As the city lights blurred past on the ride home, I found myself wondering—not for the first time—if the kitchen tonight was going to be more dangerous than any boardroom we'd sat in together.
---
By the time we got back, the others were already in the kitchen—if you could call the scene before me "being in the kitchen."
Kaiden had somehow managed to get flour on the counter, the floor, and himself… even though there was no flour in the recipe. Theo was standing in front of the cutting board with a knife in his hand, eyeing a bell pepper like it was a live grenade.
"This," I said slowly, stepping into the doorway, "is… impressive."
Zaire shot me a knowing glance from where he was unpacking the groceries. "I told you I don't trust Kaiden near heat."
"Excuse you," Kaiden said, pointing the handle of a wooden spoon at him, "I'm excellent with heat. It's just… it usually comes in the form of explosives."
Theo's knife made a soft thunk against the cutting board as he finally committed to a slice. The piece of pepper was uneven enough to be considered abstract art.
"Wow," I deadpanned, setting the bag of herbs on the counter. "You've managed to cut a vegetable into a shape that doesn't exist in nature. Impressive."
Theo's mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile. "It's called creativity."
"It's called a trip to the ER if you keep holding the knife like that." I moved behind him, adjusting his grip without thinking. His hands were warm under mine, and for a second, his shoulders relaxed before he went back to work—slightly less dangerous-looking this time.
Kaiden had abandoned the spoon and was now trying to open a jar of sauce with his teeth.
"Stop—what are you doing?" I plucked it from his hands.
"I couldn't find the opener."
I pointed to the drawer directly in front of him. "Right there."
He opened it and stared. "…Oh."
Zaire, already at the stove, was trying—and failing—not to laugh. "See? Disaster."
But instead of shoving them out of the kitchen, I shifted tactics.
"Kaiden," I said, moving toward the fridge, "you're on fire watch. If anything on that stove even thinks about boiling over, you hit it. Got it?"
His grin returned instantly. "Finally, something in my wheelhouse."
"Theo," I turned to him, "you're my runner. Pantry, fridge, whatever we need, you're on it. No questions—just move."
He gave a short nod, eyes sharpening like he'd just been handed a mission briefing.
It was almost funny—put them in a kitchen and they looked like chaos incarnate. Give them roles that played to their natural instincts, and suddenly they were locked in, focused, efficient.
Within minutes, the stove was alive with the sound of sizzling meat, the air filled with the aroma of garlic and herbs. Kaiden was leaning over the burners with the intensity of a man guarding a live wire, while Theo moved silently between counters and shelves, delivering whatever Zaire or I needed before we even had to ask.
"They're train wrecks," I murmured to Zaire under my breath as I plated the salad.
"True," he said with that quiet smirk.
I caught his eye, holding it just a second too long before turning back to my work.
Dinner was going to be ready soon, but for the first time in a while, I didn't feel like rushing the moment.
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