Free Watcher: A raven paranormal romance (Crookshollow ravens Book 1) by Steffanie Holmes Page A

about it, because I was in essence stealing from the poor, but I was pretty bloody poor myself. I hoped it wasn’t a hanging offence.
    A quick rummage around revealed an old Iron Maiden t-shirt with a massive hole under the armpit, and a pair of black trousers with some strange stains on the knee. Both looked as if they might fit Cole. I grabbed my booty and rushed back up to my shop. When I got upstairs, I heard the water running in the shower, and Chairman Meow was prowling around the bathroom door.
    “Cole!” I called out, picking up the cat. He sniffed the clothes, made a disgusted face, and nuzzled my chin.
    “Your soap smells like unicorn farts.” Cole yelled through the door.
    “If only I’d known that earlier, I would’ve bottled it and made my fortune. I’m putting some clothes outside the door,” I dumped the pants and shirt in a pile. “Put them on and meet me downstairs when you’re done.”
    I went down to the bakery and fired up the ovens. As the room heated up, I took off my sweater, so that I was working in just a threadbare white tank top and some unflattering men’s shorts. I put a hairnet on and got to work mixing the dough for the bread into the large, old-fashioned mixer. I’d brought the thing for a steal on eBay when the bakery first opened, thinking that I’d be able to afford to replace it with something new and shiny by the end of the first year. The great cosmic mixer joke was on me. I was stuck with the ancient mixer for the rest of my life.
    Cole sauntered down the stairs, one hand holding up the pants, the other running through his wet hair. He winced a little as he stood on his injured leg. In the light, the black stubble on his chin and cheeks stood out even more. He looked rugged, dangerous. And he smelled like my soap. God, he was sexy. How was I going to survive being in the tiny kitchen with him?
    “These are way too big,” he growled, pulling at the clothes. “And they smell like feet.”
    “Hey, naked raven beggars can’t be choosers. As soon as the shops open, I’ll go out and buy you some real clothes.” I pointed to the bags of flour that were standing beside the mixer. “Open one of those, dump the flour in the mixer, and you can use the cord to tie up your pants.”
    “I look like an idiot.”
    “No, you look like a metalhead who’s just had his wallet stolen. But there’s only one person who’s going to see you back here, and that’s me. And I happen to think that t-shirt is an improvement. Now, first things first.” I waved a hairnet under his nose. “You can’t do anything in here without one of these.”
    Surprisingly, Cole obeyed, tugging the net over his long tresses and pulling the elastic tight. Strangely, he managed to look even hotter with his hair off his face. His sharp cheekbones and piercing eyes stood out. “What next?” He grinned.
    I explained to him how to make the bread, and then pulled one of last night’s cakes out of the fridge and started making chocolate ganache. Cole had to slip past me in the narrow kitchen in order to get to the mixer. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, telling myself I needed to make sure he did things properly, but knowing secretly that I was perving at the way his shoulders bulged as he picked up that heavy flour sack as if it were a pillowcase. As he tore open the sack and leaned over the mixer to dump the flour inside, his pants slipped down his hips, revealing a stripe of his bare butt and the edge of that raven and skull tattoo. I felt my cheeks redden, but I couldn’t turn away.
    Cole whirled around, dropping the empty sack and grabbing his pants. “Are you sure you want me to use this?” He held up the string from the sack as he leaned on his good leg. “You were looking mighty pleased with the view only a few minutes ago.”
    I turned away, my cheeks burning. I can’t believe he saw me. “You’re disgusting. This is a kitchen. ”
    “You love it.”
    “Make sure you wash your