Free Outcast (Supernaturals Book 2) by Jennifer Reynolds Page B

deep breath, grabbed a bottle of water from the bucket of ice, and took a long swallow. Spotting an empty table at the very back of the circle of tables, I walked toward it on shaking legs.
    There had been something in Ryan’s voice—in the feel of his vibrating body—that had scared the shit out of me. That growl wasn’t normal—not in humans. I finished the rest of the bottle of water quickly and was about to rise to go back to my room when my plate of food and another bottle of water appeared on the table in front of me. Startled, I looked up to see Ryan standing over me.
    “Mrs. Olsen won’t be bothering you anymore,” he said, taking the seat beside me.
    “What did you say to her,” I asked, my voice shook from fear even though my heart melted at the thought that he had taken up for me.
    “Nothing you want to hear.”
    “You really shouldn’t have said anything.”
    “I should have. These people need to learn manners. They also need to learn that they can’t say whatever they want to people. They can think what they like, but they can’t say everything that crosses their mind. I’m sorry she was cruel. You didn’t get too much food. As a matter of fact, you didn’t get enough, but I won’t force the matter. Eat.”
    “Thank you,” I said but didn’t make a move toward my food.
    When my stomach grumbled for the millionth time, he said, “If you want something more substantial than that, you are more than welcome to some of my food. He forked a large hunk of meat and moved as if to plop it on my plate on top of my fruit. I put my hand out to cover the food.
    “No, thank you. This is plenty.” He eyed me, knowing better, but didn’t argue. I moved my plate over a bit to dissuade him from attempting to try again but still didn’t eat anything.
    He bit into his food and watched me, waiting for me to take a bite of my own. When I didn’t, due to the eyes I could feel boring into me and the unkind thoughts I knew people were thinking about me, he said, “I know you’re hungry. I hear your stomach growling. Eat or I’ll feed you.”
    “You wouldn’t dare,” I said.
    “I would. I would take great pleasure in doing so.”
    Shocked by his words, I gaped at him for a moment. He stared right back, just as determined. Realizing that he planned to do as he threatened, I picked up a grape and popped it into my mouth. When I didn’t reach for anything else, he said, “Eat it all.”
    Appalled by his commanding attitude, I started to get up but quickly sat back down. My sister’s father-in-law was glaring over at us. The man meant for his stare to cower me, but instead I decided to turn the tables a bit. I turned to Ryan and grinned with the satisfaction of knowing my decision to stay would piss off so many people. Ryan’s presence, all of the attention he was giving me, whether it was from a true desire to be around me or to fulfill a request from my sister that I not be alone with anyone else in the family, was also pissing off people, and I decided that instead of backing away from their anger, I would revel in it.
    Taking advantage of my sudden need to show these people that they weren’t bothering me, I let him convince me to eat all my food plus a few bites of his, which he fed me, and it was all kinds of hot.
    After an hour or so of sporadic conversation with Ryan, I was ready to get out of the heat. We had made fun of how some of the people were dancing and even some of the gaudy outfits certain people wore. He asked me about my job, and if I liked living in Washington. I told him I did, though I hated being so far away from my family and childhood friends. I asked about his job. He seemed to like working at his father’s investment firm, but I could tell that he had something else he would rather be doing, but didn’t seem inclined to tell me what that something was.
    During the last lull in our conversation, I decided I would head back to my room. I had enjoyed spending time with him,