Ren wanted to stop thinking. Her brain felt like a browser with too many tabs open, and half of them were frozen.
'Why am I fighting this?' Ren asked herself, staring at the two magnificent specimens of male perfection kneeling before her.
Back in her world, she had spent most of her life behind a hot stove, smelling like garlic and onions, shouting orders at line cooks, and going home to an empty apartment and a microwave dinner. She had lived for the reviews, for the stars, for the validation of strangers.
'Maybe,' Ren realized with a jolt of clarity, 'I was brought to this world when I died to finally... actually live.'
It wasn't too late for her to start anew. The old Ren Reynolds—the stressed, workaholic Michelin star chef—died the moment she fell off that cliff. She was gone.
Now, she was just Ren. The best damn cook in the Beast World. The Queen of the Frying Pan. And, apparently, the mate of three incredibly handsome, possessive, and sexy beast husbands.
