by Ellis Leigh
“Goodnight. I’m calling you tomorrow. Be ready.”
As if there were any way to be ready for a man like him.
3
Magnus
Mate. The word echoed through my mind, hard and rough against my senses. I’d met my mate. I hadn’t expected to—not after all these years—but something about that bakery had appealed to me. Something had forced my hand and made me open the door. My wolf had practically demanded it. Thank fuck I’d learned a long time ago to follow his lead or else I might have missed her.
My Coco.
A gorgeous woman with long, brown hair and a heart-shaped face who radiated warmth every time she smiled. Curves for days on her, too—the kind that made a man want to grab hold and never let go. The kind that made him want to kiss and lick every dip. And that mouth…both the shape and what came out of it. The woman was pure temptation, a decadent dessert after a disappointing meal. And I wanted to devour her.
Only problem with that? She was human. Human. Which meant I needed to take my time, introduce her to me and my wolf a little slower than if she were a fellow shifter. I couldn’t assume she felt the same strength of connection to me that I did to her or the same need to mate and complete our bond. For once in my very long life, I needed to take things slow. Give her time to learn me. To wait for the right moment.
All things I knew I absolutely had to do. All things driving me absolutely mad as well.
Which was how I found myself opening the door of Cake-ily Ever After for the second day in a row, unable to stay away. I’d woken up hard and aching, wishing she were in my bed. Wanting to slide inside her wet heat and watch her fall apart beneath me. I’d had to go for a run before I could even think about starting my day. My wolf had run us ragged, exhausting my muscles but not my mind. I couldn’t forget the feel of her skin under my fingertips, the taste of her lips. The softness of her body pressed against mine. One goodnight kiss and a few stolen moments of grinding on the girl, and I was whipped. Owned. Mated.
It was about damned time.
“The handsome man returns.” Ginger, the sister I’d met the day before, gave me a smile as she slid a tray of brightly colored cupcakes into the display case. “What brings you back here? And if you say anything other than my sister, I might just castrate you.”
The fact that she said that with her grin still in place might have been scarier than if she’d been more serious. “Thanks for the warning, but rest assured—I’m here for Coco.”
“Good. C’mon back—she’s working on the macarons for an event order.” She snagged a piece of waxed paper along the way, reaching into a case and grabbing what looked like a small bun of some sort.
“Breton butter cake,” she said as she handed it to me. “Coco trained with a French pastry chef after culinary school. Her éclairs are to die for, but these are a staple.”
I took a bite, wishing I could get a taste of my mate instead, but the sweet, buttery flavor knocked every thought from my mind in an instant. Okay, not every thought—I was a man who could smell his mate in the air for fuck’s sake—but enough of them to focus on pastry for just a moment. “This is delicious.”
“It is, and she makes them every day. If you’re lucky, she might even make them at home for you.” Her grin turned positively wicked as she backed through the door into the kitchen. “Hope you don’t mind working out.”
I rolled my eyes at her teasing even as I figured an extra run a day might be good for me. Between the sweets and the need bubbling up inside of me, a little exertion would go a long way toward keeping both me and my wolf under control. Besides, Kinship Cove was the perfect place to spend a little extra time in my wolf form. Between the woods, the other shifters, and the waterfront on the western side of the village, the place was made for a man like me. One who preferred a little freedom to get his animal on.
Of course, then I saw Coco standing over a tray of pink discs with a triangular white bag thing in her hand. All thoughts of being away from her even for a minute vanished. Mate. Mine.
“Hey, cookie lady,” Ginger said in a loud voice. “You’ve got a delivery.”
But Coco didn’t look up. “Five minutes. I just need five minutes to put these together before the filling sets up too much and I can’t get them to stick right.”
“I can wait.” I grinned and took a bite of the bun as Coco’s head shot up. That smile, those dark eyes…fuck, she was beautiful. I wanted to toss her ass on the floor and rut her for days. Instead, I devoured her sweet baked good and looked her over. “You look gorgeous this morning, though that doesn’t surprise me in the least. It’s hard to hide such beauty.”
Her smile set my chest on fire, and the slight flush that rose up her neck made other parts of me warmer as well. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you I’d see you tomorrow. It’s tomorrow.”
“You said you’d call.”
“Seeing you in person seemed like a better idea.”
Sweet. Sweet smile, sweet duck of her head, sweet little blush…everything about this woman was sweet. My mouth watered at the thought of finding out just how sweet every inch of her was.
She shook her head, biting her lip as if to hold back her grin. “I’m happy you’re here, but I need—”
“Five minutes. Go ahead and finish your work. I’ll wait for you.”
That must have been the right answer because instead of going back to work, Coco rushed over to me. I barely had enough time to grab hold of her hips before her lips were on mine, her scent surrounding me, her taste on my tongue. I growled, unable to hold it back, wishing for more time with my mate…preferably with fewer clothes on.
“Hi,” she whispered when she finally broke the kiss and settled with her hand against my chest. “I’m so glad you stopped by.”
“I am too. Is it too forward of me to say I missed you last night?” I kissed her nose after she gave me a small head shake. “Good. Because I did miss you. Now, go get your work done so I can have you to myself for a while.”
“Okay. It’ll only be a few minutes.”
“I’ve got all day for you.”
She blushed a delicious shade of pink, almost as bright as the macarons she’d been making. Her smile grew, and I knew I’d done the right thing. Said the right words. I’d just made my mate happy, which was my biggest need. My wolf practically danced through my mind, his tail up and his back straight, the cocky fucker. Still, I couldn’t blame him. Making our mate happy was all we wanted to do. Score one for the old man and his pain in the ass wolf.
As Coco settled in behind her tray of pink circles, the fox shifter from the day before came racing in from the back. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and she slowed her steps—a predator acknowledging a more dangerous one in its midst. Something in her body language caught my attention, made me think the woman might be more of an obstacle than a supporter of my mating with Coco. I needed to deal with her. Immediately.
“Good morning, Misty,” Coco said, still focused on her work.
“Morning, boss lady. I’d ask how the date went, but considering you have a shadow today, I can guess.”
I couldn’t resist teasing my mate. “No, please. Ask. I’m dying to know how I did on the charming scale.”
Coco chuckled softly. “You’re doing just fine. It builds up, remember?”
“I definitely do.”
As the fox walked past me, keeping her eyes on mine until she was through the swinging door that led to the sales area of the bakery, I finished my treat. And then I moved to follow her. The other sister had disappeared into the back of the kitchen and those macarons had Coco distracted, which meant I could get Misty alone to figure out what her problem was. No way could I pass up this chance.
I brushed off my hands and tossed the waxed paper that had been wrapped around the bun in the trash. “I’m going to order a cup of coffee. I’ll be right back.”
Coco only nodded, too deeply focused on her work to even look up. Good. That me
ant I had a few minutes so long as her sisters didn’t pop up. I headed through the doorway into the shop area just in time to see the fox tie an apron around her waist.
“Am I actually making you a coffee or pretending to?” she asked, sounding more irritated than I would have liked. And my wolf definitely didn’t care for her tone—I had to hold back the growl he threw at me.
“Let’s go with actually,” I replied, keeping my eyes on her. Making sure she knew who the stronger apex hunter was. “I could use an extra one this morning.”
“Up too late thinking about your new mate?”
She wasn’t far off. “Perhaps.”
“Yet you weren’t with her.” She shrugged and moved past me toward the fancy coffee machine in the corner. “She doesn’t smell like a woman who’s been claimed by her mate.”
“I haven’t claimed her. I haven’t even told her yet.”
She looked over her shoulder at me, frowning. “That you’re mates?”
“Correct.”
Her eye-roll grated on me. “She lives in a shifter town. She knows how this works.”
I paced. How could I not? “She’s human. Knowing how shifter mating works and being caught up in the middle of it are two totally different things.”
“Sure,” the fox said, dragging out the word and sounding so damn sarcastic. “I’m going to guess she knows a lot more than you’re giving her credit for.”
“Maybe she does, but I can’t take the chance that I’ll overwhelm her. I want to give her a chance to know me before I get all…mine.” I growled, the idea of Coco belonging to me appealing to my wolf in the most primal way.
Misty tilted her head, furrowing her brow as she took me in. “I’m surprised you can resist the pull to complete the mating bond. Not many males can.”
“It’s not easy.” That was an understatement. If my wolf grew any more agitated, I had a feeling even running myself ragged through the forests outside of town wouldn’t stop him from racing straight for Coco’s little house and taking a bite of her. Or a lick. But we couldn’t. “She wants to take her time. And as much as I don’t want to waste a single second, she’s worth waiting for.”
“That she is.” Misty patted my shoulder, ignoring the way I flinched away from her touch. She wasn’t my mate—I had no interest in another woman putting her hands on me. Not since I’d laid eyes on my Coco. Misty chuckled and hurried away, likely knowing she’d pushed me to the edge of my comfort zone. Sneaky little fox.
Concerned fox, too. “You realize she’s like family to me, yeah?”
I shrugged. “Sure. Okay.”
“And foxes—we protect our own.” She stepped closer, looking me square in the eye. Not backing down. “My family skulk is one of the largest in the country. You fuck her over, and we’ll all be coming after you.”
A fox with an attitude. How novel. “Are you threatening me?”
“No. I’m making you a promise. Hurt her, and you’ll be dealing with us. Treat her well, and everything will be okay between you and me.”
I could actually respect that sort of ultimatum. “Treating her well won’t be a problem. I plan to treat her like a princess.”
“Good. Now, go take our girl out to brunch.”
She rolled her eyes when my wolf growled over the our in her statement. I couldn’t help it—Coco was mine, and I wasn’t fucking sharing her. Ever.
4
Coco
Date one had been the dinner out where Magnus had walked me home and kissed me at my front door.
Date two had been a long and casual brunch at the diner down the street from the bakery—the one run by Misty’s family.
Date three would be another dinner. Three dates in just under twenty-four hours—that had to be some sort of record. At least, for me. But that wasn’t what I was concerned about. Not really. Tonight was date number three. Third-date night, which meant sex. Not demanded or required, but sort of back-of-the-mind planned for. The anticipation of what was likely to come had built within me all day, the sense that we’d be moving our relationship forward burning just under my skin. I couldn’t wait, and yet I didn’t want to take that step at the same time. Conflicted, thy name is Coco.
If I’d been Ginger, I would have jumped Magnus that first night on my front porch. She had a tendency to dive in head first and think about hitting the bottom later. If I’d been Madeleine, Magnus would likely have to wait forever to touch my naughty bits. I was pretty sure my younger sister was a card-carrying virgin, which was perfectly fine for her. Me? I was neither a first-date sort of girl nor a virgin. Hence the third-date rule that had somehow developed in my head over the years. Three dates seemed like an adequate amount of time to get to know someone enough to make yourself available for…stuff. Naughty stuff. Naked stuff. I needed to shave my legs. And…other parts of my body. Just in case.
Whether I was ready to jump off the cliff into a relationship with Magnus or not, the desire was definitely there. I’d wanted to drag him inside with me and strip him down after our first date, but the idea of getting attached to him, knowing my history, slowed me down. How could I let myself fall for him—and I totally would fall for him—when I knew he’d just find his mate while with me? I was apparently a living, breathing good luck charm for shifters looking for their fated mates. Three times—three—the man I’d been dating had been struck by fate. That had to be some sort of record. Or joke. Three strikes and I was out—or so I’d thought.
The fear of Magnus leaving me for his fated mate still lingered, but my desire to be with him in every way was growing. Perhaps it was nothing more than denial, but I was in a full-blown “enjoy today what you’ll have to pay for tomorrow” frame of mind. And I was going to enjoy every single inch of Magnus for as long as the fates allowed.
“The groom’s cake is ready for tomorrow’s rehearsal dinner. How are you doing on the five hundred macarons?” Ginger asked, her voice a little tinny as it came through the phone. I had my foot resting on the closed toilet, my leg slathered in foam, and a razor in my hand—not exactly the ideal schedule-planning situation, but we made it work.
“I’ll be finished tomorrow morning. Most are already completed and stored. So the rehearsal dinner is pretty much set. What about the cupcakes for the bachelor and bachelorette parties? Last I checked, we needed to make another three dozen to meet the order quantity.”
Ginger piped up at that. “I’m on those. The sweet and salty ones are already completed—I just need to sprinkle some pretzel dust over them before I call them complete. For the boozy ones, I’ve got cake soaking in liquor already. I’ll only need to make the buttercream frosting and top those suckers, and they’ll be done.”
Good. The schedule for the wedding festivities was tight—we had to work ahead. “And those parties are the day after tomorrow, so we’ve got time there. How’s the wedding cake coming?”
Madeleine groaned. “All the lace-like icing is taking me forever, and the perfect tiny roses the bride wants are going to get lost in the massiveness of this thing.”
“But will you get it done in time?”
“Don’t I always?”
Yeah, she did. That didn’t mean we weren’t going to check in to make sure. Each of us had our specialties—Madeleine decorated the things Ginger and I made. She had an artist’s gift with fondant and buttercream, able to make cakes that looked as if they were spun from spider webs, carving faces or animals into what was essentially flour and eggs to create edible masterpieces.
Ginger mostly handled our cookies and cupcakes. She was creative much like Madeleine, but her talent tended to focus on flavor combinations and profiles our customers couldn’t resist. The woman had come up with a bacon-maple cupcake that always brought a line of people to our door.
Me? I was a classically trained pastry chef, so I tended to stick to the French pastries and tarts that had stood the test of time. The things that required technical baking knowledge to pull off well. My specialty, though? The treat that
had put us on the map as the bakery to go to? Macarons. We were famous for them, especially when the three of us got together to create them. Between Ginger’s flavor combinations, Madeleine’s decorations, and my talent at simply making a macaron with the perfect texture, we could build a cookie that made people beg for more. The ones for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night would be no different.
“Okay,” I said as I slid the razor up my calf for the final time. “So tomorrow is all about macarons. We can finish the cupcakes after those are ready for delivery.”
“Deal,” Ginger said. “So, can we focus on the more important event?”
My mind went blank. Nico’s wedding was the biggest event of the year, and we had the contract to supply desserts for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow, the bachelor and bachelorette parties the next night, and the wedding cake on Saturday. There was nothing bigger.
I had no idea what needed to be discussed. “What are we talking about here?”
“Your date with Magnum.”
“It’s Magnus.”
Ginger chuckled. “I think Magnum fits him better. Or does it? Do tell.”
As if I would talk about his…oh hell, I totally would, and my sisters knew it. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Wait…what?” Ginger sounded horrified. “How have you not taken that pony for a ride yet?”
“Maybe she’s waiting for the right time.” Madeleine. Of course.
“Thanks, Mad. I am sort of waiting.”
“For what? Christmas?” Ginger sounded affronted at the very idea. “He may have a little gray in that beard, but he’s not fucking Santa Claus, Coco.”
There was a ho-ho-ho joke in there somewhere, but I didn’t have time to think it through. “I’m not waiting for anything in particular. I just…”
Didn’t want fate to slap me upside the head again.