Fondant Fox: Kinship Cove: Mates & Macarons

by Leigh, Ellis

  Fondant Fox

  Kinship Cove: Mates & Macarons

  Ellis Leigh

  Fondant Fox

  Kinship Cove: Mates & Macarons

  The road to forever is lined with good intentions…or bad ones hidden under the guise of education. The fourth story from the Cake-ily Ever After bakery in Kinship Cove is about to take you back to class.

  * * *

  It sucks to be invisible. In the diner my family owns, I’m just the sister who gets stuff done. My entire skulk seems to forget about me on a weekly basis. So color me tickled when the fates drop my fated mate—a hunky, nerdy-hot wolf shifting professor—directly in my path. But not all matings go as planned, mine included.

  He’s smart, he’s hot, and he’s decided to use our bond for research instead of actually getting to know me. And did I mention he used to buy my best friend’s worn undergarments? Thanks for that, fates.

  Undies aside, my wolf shifter professor is about to learn his toughest lesson ever—never go up against a fox shifter in a battle of wit or will. We’re sneaky, smart, and not afraid to take an opponent to the mattresses to win a battle.

  * * *

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  1

  Misty

  I swear to the fates, if my skulk adds even one more fox kit, I’m out.

  “Tawny!” I stormed across the kitchen at the Kinship Cove Diner, my family’s restaurant for four generations, and busted through the doors that led to the private party area. “Someone take this child before he finds himself inside a hot oven.”

  The child in question—Phillip, age six—giggled. “You wouldn’t cook me, Aunt Misty.”

  I wouldn’t. I would threaten to, though. “I might mistake you for one of the roasts, Philly Bo-Billy. You should hang out in here where it’s safe.”

  “But all the old people are in here. I want to be with you. You’re more fun.”

  Damn right, I am. “You can come back and help me get the desserts ready later, okay? Right now, there’s too much going on.”

  Tawny, my oldest sister and mother to Phillip, smiled as she took her son from my arms. “C’mon, little man. Let’s go see your aunts and uncles.”

  His pouty bottom lip hurt me a lot more than the way my sister didn’t bother to say hi or thanks or who are you. I swear, my entire family wouldn’t notice if I went missing unless they needed something.

  “Misty!”

  Like dinner to be served.

  “On it, Mom.” I hurried past my mother, trying really hard not to cower under her glare. The woman was a workhorse and had raised her children—all eighteen of us—to follow her commands no matter what. As each litter of kits grew into adulthood, they worked a little less and a little less, moving on to jobs outside of the diner and growing their own families with mates and kits. Being part of her youngest litter put me firmly in the worker group, whether I wanted to be there or not.

  I pushed through the swinging doors and raced into the kitchen, ready to get the dinner finished, plated, and served. Thankfully, my closest sister—in age and in general compatibility—was right there with me.

  “I pulled the roasts out of the ovens to rest,” Tilly said as she wiped her hands on a cloth and looked over the disaster area that was the Kinship Cove Diner kitchen on our weekly family dinner night. “Potatoes are warmed and ready to go, green beans are in serving bowls already under the heat lamps, and the bread is in the baskets. You want to start slicing the meat while I start bringing out the first course?”

  “Perfect.” I headed for my station—the only one even remotely clean. Tilly had kindly placed one of the roasts beside it, knowing I’d carve the side of beef for the family. There was something very methodical and almost soothing in the activity—I liked the focus it took to cut neat, even pieces. The order of it.

  Unfortunately, when you had a family as large as mine all in one place, chaos tended to follow them.

  “Oof.” Tilly’s exclamation came a second after our oldest brother—Robbie, though he told everyone in town to call him Robert because he liked to pretend he was more important than any of us thought he should be—shoved through the doors. My sister fell to the floor along with eight baskets of fresh bread.

  Chaos. Always.

  “That’s why the doors have windows in them,” I said, shaking my head as Robbie—no way would I call him Robert—helped Tilly to her feet.

  “Everyone is waiting.” Robbie scowled at the bread on the floor, looking more like the victim than the perpetrator of the crime. “What’s taking so long?”

  Two parents, eighteen children, sixteen mates, fifty-seven grandchildren at my last count, and ten or so random aunts, uncles, or cousins who sometimes joined us in our weekly dinner tradition. What took so long? Feeding one of the largest skulks in the country, that’s what.

  “We’re trying to feed a hundred people in one seating in a kitchen not designed to do so, without enough help to get all the work done on time. You want us to go faster? Get some of our siblings back here.” I pointed my knife in his direction. Not really at him—though he’d probably tell my mother I’d tried to stab him or something. He always had been the tattletale of the group. “If you can’t get anyone to lend a hand, just stay out of our way.”

  Robbie huffed and puffed as I knew he would, but he turned without a word and stormed back into the dining room. As usual.

  “Okay,” I said, wiping off my hands and joining Tilly to assess the damage. “Change of plans. You get the beef sliced and into the serving dishes, I’ll bake some of the frozen rolls from Cake-ily Ever After.”

  “Mom will be mad they’re not our recipe.”

  Mom got mad about a lot of things, specifically whenever those things reminded her that I worked at the bakery down the street more than in the family restaurant.

  “She’ll just have to suck it up. Otherwise, they get no bread.”

  Tilly’s eyes grew wide, a shocked expression crossing over her pretty face. An exaggerated one for sure. “Oh, the horror. No bread.” She placed the back of her hand against her forehead, hamming it up as I did my best not to laugh. “Whatever shall we do?”

  “We shall cut the meat and bake the other rolls, that’s what. Are you starring in the next play for the community theater? Is it a gothic romance or something?”

  “I am, but not a gothic. Just a romance. I get to kiss a llama shifter.”

  By the fates. “Yeah. That sounds…fuzzy.” And not at all like something she’d be able to do if she ever found her mate. A male would never let another male touch his mate, let alone kiss her. Or him. Or them. Thankfully, Tilly had yet to find her Mr. or Miss Right, though I had a feeling it wouldn’t be too long. I trusted my gut in these matters—it never lied to me.

  “Girls,” our mother yelled, not even bothering to open the doors and come inside the kitchen. “Where is that bread?”

  “Go,” I hissed.

  Tilly swung into action while I raced through the kitchen to the walk-in freezer. Trays of the yeast rolls I helped make at the bakery sat in the far corner. We stocked them to serve with our minestrone soup on Wednesdays—the texture was perfect for sopping up some of the broth. I loved them. Mom tolerated them. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, though. I didn’t have time to remake the rolls from scratch, so these would have to do. Thankfully, they only took a few minutes to warm through.

  By the time the rolls were ready and I had the mess of the original bread cleaned up, Tilly was done serving all the food and ever
yone was in the dining room. I loaded the baskets of rolls onto a tray and headed out, not really surprised to see everyone eating already. No one said a word to me as I moved from table to table, setting the baskets in the middle. Not one Thank you or How are you or What’s been happening. Not one use of my name.

  Typical.

  What wasn’t typical was the fact that the room was full. Not a single chair sat empty. Not a space saved for me. Even Tilly had found a spot next to our great aunt who always talked about the feral cats on her farm and smelled as if she’d been bathing in menthol. No one had saved me a seat.

  One of my sisters’ mates—which one I couldn’t have said because they all ran together in my mind—yelled from the far end of the room. “We need more bread over here.”

  No name. No please or thank you. No manners. And still no spot for me to sit with my family and eat the meal I’d prepared for them. Family dinner night was always my least favorite night of the week simply because of how much work it took to make the meal, but this was beyond anything I’d expected. My family was tight—close and protective of each other—but lately, I’d felt left behind by them. Invisible, even. Not unwanted, mind you, just…overlooked. And tonight proved that by far.

  Why am I even here?

  My mother didn’t even look up as I walked past her. No one did. They all kept up their conversations, their laughing and bragging and complaining, as I headed for the back door and pushed through it into the cold night air. They needed more bread? They knew where the kitchen was. I was done being their servant for the night.

  I didn’t need to decide where I was going. I didn’t put any thought into my path at all. I simply started walking and ended up at the back door of my favorite place in the entire world—the Cake-ily Ever After Bakery. Owned by the human Chance sisters, the place had become a respite for me. A center of friendship and comfort that had been growing more and more scarce within my family’s diner. It was another home to me, and I was happy to be there.

  “Misty. I’m so glad you were able to come by.” The excitement in Coco’s voice welcomed and warmed me before I’d even closed the door. The oldest of the three Chance sisters, Coco had been the one who’d hired me to run the customer service segment of the business, not that I’d given her a choice in the matter. I’d pretty much just showed up to work and stayed put. Eventually, she’d grown to love me as I’d known she would.

  She’d also taken the time to teach me how to bake whatever I wanted. She was a classically trained pastry chef and could make just about anything. Whenever I binged my favorite British baking show, I would pick a particular dessert to try, and she’d spend far too much time showing me step-by-step exactly how to make it and giving me the why behind every step. She was a good human to know.

  “No family dinner tonight?” Ginger, the middle sister and the one who threw traditional baking a curve ball with her wild flavor combinations and amazing cupcakes, gave me a huge smile. “I figured you’d be surrounded by all those foxes tonight and unable to escape the boredom of family functions—no offense, sisters. Hey, where’s your coat?”

  “I didn’t think it was that cold out,” I said, washing my hands and looking around at the mess that was the current state of the kitchen. It was cleanup night—an event the girls held monthly where they spent an evening in the bakery deep-cleaning and organizing all the bits and bobs they used on a daily basis. One of the only nights you’d find the girls at the shop past closing, especially since they’d all recently found their mates. Something I’d been happy to have a hand in. “I left dinner a little early to come help.”

  “Hey, Misty.” Madeleine, the youngest Chance sister, came strolling in from the front carrying an armful of sheet trays. “Want a cookie or some coffee? I can grab you something since I’m on clean out all the cases duty.”

  And just like that, all was right in my world. Something so basic as being seen, as being asked how I was doing, as being offered something that might make me happy—those simple niceties were at the heart of family. While I loved my fox family more than I could state, I adored these three as well. Sometimes I needed a break from my skulk, and the Chance sisters gave that to me without question. There was nothing like being home in the bakery with my favorite human sisters.

  “I’m good. If I have any more caffeine, I might just go running down Main Street naked, singing some old classic rock ballad at the top of my lungs.”

  Ginger shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Yyyyyeeeeeaaaaahhhhh. She wasn’t wrong. And I wasn’t doing that again. “No more naked Misty talks. Where are we, and what can I do to help?”

  Three hours, an untold number of cookies, and four cups of coffee—decaf, of course—later, I stood in a spotless kitchen with the three Chance sisters. “We really outdid ourselves this time.”

  Coco nodded. “This kitchen looks amazing. Too bad it’ll seem more like a war zone in about three days.”

  “Two,” Ginger said with a grin. “I give it two days.”

  Madeleine, ever the positive one, disagreed. “I say five. The high of having such a nice work space will make us more apt to put stuff where it belongs.”

  “Sure thing, Pollyanna.” Ginger bumped her younger sister’s shoulder with her own. “I’m so ready to go home.”

  Coco’s smile turned a little teasing. “That’s a first. Guess having a dragon shifter to curl up with makes home more appealing.”

  “Damn right, it does. And don’t pretend like you’re not itching to see your wolf man. We all know you and Magnus are practically inseparable.”

  They were. They really, really were. All three girls had found shifter mates—a wolf for Coco, a dragon for Ginger, and a bear who also happened to be the mayor and pack alpha of our funky little shifter town for Madeleine. Me? I was the lone mateless female in the group. Though, I had a feeling that wouldn’t be for long. Not a feeling, really…more like a premonition.

  A sixth sense of impending doom.

  Dramatic but likely accurate with my luck. I’d been experiencing a desire over the past few months, a need within me that screamed mating pull. I’d also been avoiding it like the plague as I worked to make sure the Chance sisters found their happily-ever-afters. They deserved good mates in their lives to love and be loved by. Me? I didn’t feel like having another person to be forced to take care of.

  Until the fates threw a mate right in my face and made him dance, I wasn’t dealing.

  “Guys are here,” Ginger said, looking at her phone. “Everyone ready to head out?”

  Coco nodded. “Need a lift, Misty? We can drop you off on our way.”

  “I can walk.”

  “It’s freezing outside.” Ginger slipped into her own thick winter jacket and threw me a raised eyebrow. “And you, my friend, didn’t bring a coat.”

  Because I’d been too busy trying to escape the mess of family dinner night to bother. “Yeah, okay. If you don’t think Magnus will mind.”

  “I have no idea what you’re assigning to me, but I certainly will not mind.” The man himself—an older, silver fox of a wolf shifter in a long, black wool coat—swept into the kitchen and beelined it to Coco. “It looks amazing in here. Did you get everything done, beautiful?”

  Coco hummed as she rose onto the balls of her feet to place a soft, gentle kiss on her mate’s lips. “Definitely. Are the guys outside?”

  “Yes. They didn’t want to leave the door unprotected. Jericho’s been on edge all night.”

  Madeleine’s bear shifter mate. The youngest Chance sister suddenly looked worried. “Is everything okay?”

  “I believe so, but perhaps we should hurry along home. Something has his senses in protective mode.”

  Wonderful. Just what we all needed—an overprotective bear making everyone jumpy. The girls rushed to get their coats, while I quickly made sure the front door was locked, the coffee machine turned off, and all the lights dimmed to our night settings.

  “Thank you so m
uch for your help tonight, Misty,” Coco said as we stepped out of the back door. “We never could have done—”

  But her words were cut off by the throaty, booming growl of a bear shifter defending his mate. Jericho created a wall of flesh before Madeleine, his head up and his fur sprouting through his human skin as he likely fought not to change forms. Kingston—Ginger’s dragon shifter—didn’t fight the urge, shifting fast and flying just slightly off the ground directly in front of his mate. Magnus grabbed Coco and even tugged me behind him as we all stood and stared at—

  The man looked like some sort of professor. Or librarian. Or…retired man living in a senior center. He definitely didn’t look like a threat, though.

  “Is that a cardigan?” Ginger asked, looking downright horrified. “Calm down, boys. No one wearing a cardigan is a danger to us.”

  “You,” Jericho said, a growl evident in his voice. “I want you gone.”

  “Ryder?” Madeleine peeked around the arm of her mate. “What are you doing here?”

  “What’s going on?” Kingston asked as soon as he shifted back to his human form. Fully clothed. Only dragons could do that—the rest of us ended up butt naked. I was seriously jealous of his ability.

  Once Kingston was firmly back on terra firma with two legs and no scales, Magnus relaxed a little and I was able to get a good look at the man before me. Brown dress shoes, dark jeans, a plaid collared shirt—cardigan over it, of course—with a suede bomber-type jacket topping off the look. If he were human, I’d put him in his mid-forties, but as he seemed to be a shifter, he could be anywhere from forty to two hundred. You just never knew, but the gray-tinged scruff on his cheeks definitely set him apart from most men I knew. And the glasses—thick, dark-rimmed, and oddly sexual. Seriously—professor material. Maybe an engineer or physicist. Some sort of super smarty. Way too nerdy to be—