If he’d met Meg Klein before his friend Berg got his meaty lineman hands on her, Adam might have made an exception to his no-humans rule. She was cute, but humans were messy and emotional. They attached too quickly when there was no real bond there to attach. He preferred wolves, who were generally more aware of the reality of a situation.
Except Meg Klein. He would’ve made an exception for her, because if he could wake up every morning smelling that scent that filled up her bakery, he would have been perfectly happy to deal with the human factor.
Of course, if he’d married Meg, he would have to get up and run with Miles every morning, because he would eat everything in the world that smelled like that bakery. That was why he limited himself to Fridays only, and usually forced himself to bring a friend.
His hunger almost ate through his insides every time he sat down at a table in Meg’s Bakery.
He could practically taste the pain au chocolat, as Paige called it. Or, chocolate croissants, to Berg. Whatever it was really called, it stayed in his memory for days after he ate it.
Adam licked his lips and smiled at himself. He knew exactly how to get close to all the wolves who were there to run. The way to someone’s heart was through their stomach, after all.
He pulled to a stop at the corner of Old Tyler Road and swiped at his phone. Berg would be at the bakery already. Maybe he could get enough kolaches to feed the whole place. When a car pulled up behind him, Adam set his phone on the seat and kept driving. He’d have to talk to Berg when he got there.
Maybe a nice big order of caramel rolls and cinnamon rolls and kolaches and doughnuts. And he could order just one pain au chocolat and hoard it for himself. Although, that was probably the one that would most appeal to some of these wolves. Those New Orleans women had some interesting tastes.
The shorter one, Aria, had grilled him about fancy restaurants in Somewhere, and wanted to know about escargot and shit like that. He wasn’t sure there was a place in Somewhere, Texas that a guy could get snails. But she’d insisted. He’d sent her to Enamorada and crossed his fingers that their snails were to their liking.
But it did bode well for the food working as an opening line. He just had to get close enough to them to see if there was a little energetic spark between them.
Adam pulled in to the bakery parking lot. It was still pretty full, even though most of the ranchers were in and out before dawn. Probably, like normal, the crowd that would be left would be mostly the retired set, sitting around with their white cups of black coffee and talking about how they just didn’t get this Facebook thing.
He grabbed the black handle of the rickety door and braced himself for the scent of the bakery. When took a long drag of the air as soon as he stepped in the building, but something was missing. Different.
The spicy scent of cinnamon was still there, and the smoky smell of the caramel, and the sweetness of fried dough. But something was absent. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but the bakery didn’t have that same electricity in the air that it normally had.
Adam looked around for Berg, but couldn’t find his big, blond friend. And at the counter, some tiny, ponytailed thing smiled away as she packed sugar cookies into a paper box.
Fuck. All Adam wanted was a chocolate croissant and a coffee and a chat with one of his best friends. But the bakery smelled off and his friend was gone and the quiet redhead who usually waited on him was gone.
Where was Paige?
Why was everything different?
Twilight Zone.
They always played a little game when he ordered his chocolate croissant, and he liked seeing the frustrated button-nose-wrinkle of hers when she corrected his pronunciation in a very refined French accent. He would try to make her laugh, she would rebuff him and look down, then scuttle away to fill his order. It was as much a routine as the buttery, flaky pastry and the bad coffee.
When it was his turn at the counter, Adam almost didn’t know what to do.
The wide-eyed teenaged Buffy lookalike just stared at him, smiling. “Welcome to Meg’s Bakery,” she finally said. “How can I help you?”
Even her greeting was off.
He looked around, casting a long glance at the mural-wall and the large, colorful swinging doors in the middle of the sunburst. “I’m just looking for Berg.”
“I’m not sure if he’s here. Would you like me to get him?” Her Stepford delivery had Adam backing away from the counter, kolache-less.
“Yeah, why don’t you do that.” He pointed at the counter and threw a bill at her like she might have a communicable disease. “I’ll have a caramel roll and a coffee.”
He did not like the way Meg’s Bakery felt today. Not even a little bit.
* * *
Paige peered at the rising cupcakes through the oven window. The scent of butter rum filled the air around her. The recipe was one of her favorites. She closed her eyes and imagined taking a bite when they finally finished baking. Warm. Soft. Sweet.
Meg was across the kitchen, working one of the big mixers. And Berg had stepped out back to take out a bag of trash. The back door screeched as he returned. Paige felt a fluttery warmth spread over her skin, which was strange since Berg had just let in a gust of cold November air.
“Close that door!” Meg shouted across the room.
Berg stomped his feet on the big black mat in front of the door. “Yes, love.” He winked at Paige, and she flashed him a smile.
Meg and Berg might yell and shout, but she’d never seen a couple that loved each other so completely. Berg looked like a bristly giant, and Meg was as tough as nails, but underneath they were both cream filled and mushy.
“You know Adam just walked in. I saw his truck pull into the lot. I know that’s why you’re here on your day off.” He shook his head and smiled. “You sure you don’t want me to tell the poor bastard you’re interested?”
“No!” Paige’s eyes went wide and more of the tingly warmth invaded, this time all the way to the pit of her stomach—butterflies to the umpteenth degree. After six years a crush should fade, but hers had only gotten stronger. Still, she hadn’t had the guts to say anything.
Anytime she was around Adam, she could barely speak, but that hadn’t stopped her from coming into the bakery every Friday for the last six years whether she was scheduled to work that day or not. “Meg, these have eight minutes left.”
“Go, sweetie.” Meg waved to the swinging door that led to front of the bakery.
Paige followed Berg through the door and breathed in the sweet smell of all the pastries in the counter. Nothing better in the world. Well, except being around Adam VonBrandt.
He was there. Already sitting at his usual table in the back. “Berg do you want a coffee and croissant too?”
“Yep, bring one for Adam too. Looks like he’s moping over there with a caramel roll. He never orders that.”
“Yeah, that’s not his normal order.” Paige nodded to Berg and plated two of the pain au chocolat pastries. She grabbed an empty coffee cup and the freshly brewed pot off the warmer. When she looked up, she met Adam’s gaze. A tremor ran through her body and she had to look away, or she might drop her serving tray right then and there.
A second later, two familiar hands closed around the edge of the big black tray and lifted it from her grasp. She swallowed her surprise and looked up into those slate-blue eyes she knew so well.
His brown hair was mussed and curled this way and that around his forehead and ears. She wanted to brush one curl in particular out of his eye. Damn. If the man ever asked her to have his babies, she’d be all over that.
“Y’know, you made Buffy wait on me this morning. I thought you were at home sick or something.” He set the tray on top of the display cabinet.
Paige’s throat filled with cotton and heat crawled up her skin. “I’m fine. Mushrooms were bad.” Oh, geeez.
Adam’s eyebrows rose, his interested was caught.
Out of everything that could’ve come out
of her mouth, she had to ramble about the stupid mushrooms. He probably thought she was a stoner now.
She stared at her feet, trying desperately to put logic to her very strange morning. “It’s just, I made soup last night. I’m pretty sure the guy at the farmers market sold me bad mushrooms. They didn’t look bad. And they tasted fine. But I swear I was hallucinating this morning. I went to my normal spot to watch the sunrise because it was my day off and there were people. But then there were wolves. I could’ve sworn the wolves were the people for a minute, but then the mushrooms make a lot more sense then that. I won’t be buying mushrooms from Tom’s booth ever again.” She looked up.
His eyes were very wide.
Yep. He thinks I’m crazy. Please don’t stop coming to the bakery.
Chapter Three
Adam had to fight to keep from asking her to repeat herself. Her words had run together, but he could have sworn she’d said that she saw some wolves shift that morning and blamed hallucinogenic soup.
What the hell?
He glanced back at the table, where Berg was grinning like a fool. At least he hadn’t heard the wolf stuff. Adam couldn’t just let that slide. If Aaron found out about it, he would flip.
But if she honestly thought she’d hallucinated it…and she’d seemed so matter-of-fact. Not like she was trying to convince herself of something, but like she believed it already.
It was the most she’d ever spoken to him, and he hated that he spooked her so much. Whenever he thought of Paige, he imagined her the happiest huddled over a rolling pin somewhere in the back with Meg. She must have done well with that rolling pin, because she was the only staff person that Meg hadn’t fired over the course of the business.
Meg had impossible standards, so Paige must be a great baker. But, she didn’t like him very much—she always clammed up around him and looked at the floor. She’d shove pastries at him and correct his bad French. Most of all, she never smiled. No matter how much he tried to make her laugh.
To distract himself, he picked up the tray she’d prepared and followed her quickstep over to Berg’s table. There was a good chance that if he tried to question her about what she’d just said, he’d come off as too eager and make her suspicious. Paige wasn’t slow.
She poured coffee. He put down the pastries and rubbed his hands together. Berg kept smiling that dufus-smile of his.
Adam took his chair and pulled the pastry plate in front of him. He had to come up with a plan to question Paige.
If only Lee had come with him to breakfast. He would have had some plan that included chloroform and magick, but he would’ve gotten the job done and not cared. Adam was worried about public ramifications. It was what Aaron always warned him about getting too close to the humans.
Someday, you’re going to have to choose between your friends and your pack. And Adam had always laughed. But Aaron was right.
He took a bite of the chocolate croissant and reached for his coffee cup just as Paige’s fingers were retreating. When he brushed her skin with his, he felt a little jolt. Damn dry Texas autumn. He must’ve built up some static walking across the flat, commercial carpeting with that tray.
Paige jumped.
“You okay, honey?” Berg reached for her, but she backed up, coffee pot still in her hand.
“Fine.” She opened her mouth again, but clamped it shut quick. Damn, was she going to tell the story about the mushrooms again?
Adam put one hand in his lap and kneaded the hard muscle in his thigh while he waited for her to say something. Was she going to tell Berg about the wolves?
“Tell Meg how great these croissants are,” Adam said, deliberately glancing at Paige.
She didn’t correct him. She just stood still, her lips pressed tight.
“I will,” Berg said. “Normally, Paige makes them, but today was her day off.”
Adam raised one eyebrow. “Today was your day off?”
She dropped her gaze fast to the floor, but Berg chimed in. “Yeah. First Friday she’s had off in I-don’t-know-how-long, but Meg’s trying to train this new girl on the weekend bakes, so we had to have Paige here on Saturday instead, just in case there’s a flop.”
Her hand went to her side and she rubbed at her hip with her palm. Faster. She nodded.
“She doesn’t like taking Fridays off.” Berg smirked like there was some big inside joke and Adam kicked him under the table.
Obviously, whatever he was insinuating made her nervous, because the speed of her hand rubbing on her hip increased and her lips tightened into a thinner line.
“Well, the bakery doesn’t smell the same without your pastries, Paige.” Adam smiled and looked up at her, trying to meet her eyes. He needed to butter her up for later, when he had to ask her about the damn wolves.
Because he was going to have to ask her. He couldn’t let it go, much as he wanted to.
“Come on, Paige. Have a seat.” Berg pulled out the chair beside Adam. “You’ve got the day off. Join us for breakfast.” He pushed the caramel roll remains at her. “You can finish Adam’s caramel roll. I’ll get you a cup for coffee.”
She was still frozen in place, her red hair swaying as she wiped furiously at her hip.
Adam wanted to take her hand and calm her, gather her up in a big hug and hold her still, but he worried that if he tried to touch her again, she might come right out of her skin.
Berg jumped out of his chair and whispered something in Paige’s ear. She looked at the chair, then at the caramel roll, then the coffee pot in her hand, all in slow succession.
For a big guy, Berg moved fast, and he was back with another white porcelain cup before Paige even made a step in either direction. He guided her down into the chair and she scooted to the edge, away from Adam.
Damn. Was she afraid of him?
He’d always chalked her lowered eyes up to shyness and her short sentences up to a little bit of snobbery. But she was almost shaking.
Berg took the carafe out of her hand and poured a bit of coffee into the cup. This time, Adam noticed that she didn’t flinch when Berg touched her.
Why would she flip out when Adam touched her? Rub at her hand like she was trying to get out germs? He had to do something to settle her down, or she was going to vibrate right off the chair and onto the floor.
Berg stood again, coffee pot in hand. “I’m just going to put this back. Don’t want it to get cold or anything. You stay, Paige. I’ll be back.”
She looked up at him, eyes full of some kind of emotion that threatened to spill over onto her cheeks, but he just smiled and she dropped her gaze to her lap again. She really was afraid of something, and whatever it was seemed to be lodged in Adam’s eyes. The one place she wouldn’t look.
“What are you planning to do with your day off?” he asked, sitting back in his chair and hoping to keep enough distance that it would make her relax.
Paige shrugged and moved her lips like she might answer. He reached for his pastry, checking to see if she would stay still or flip out, and she actually kept her calm. So maybe she wasn’t actually afraid of him? Maybe she just didn’t know him. He was going to need to get to know her fast if he was going to get her to talk about those wolves again without raising her suspicions.
“Do you usually come in to work on your day off?” Adam tried again.
One shoulder moved this time. She opened her mouth and her tongue slipped out to lick her bottom lip.
Adam found himself doing the same, and watching her tongue slip back and forth. The action made him hungry.
“I have to run errands anyway,” she finally said. Her hand started to move on her thigh again and her foot bounced, which made her whole body bounce.
Adam’s eyes instinctively dropped to her breasts, straining against a green t-shirt with four faces on it. At first, he thought it said, The Beatles, but it actually said, The Doctors, and in the middle of the big D, one of her nipples was pointing at him. Hard and moving up and down with each breath.
He had been staring at her breasts for so long, he didn’t think to look up when he heard Berg come back to the table. Paige’s breathing relaxed.
“So, what are you going to do on your day off, Paige?” Berg’s idiot grin was back. “I’ll bet you rode your bike here this morning, and I think it’s raining.”
Like a dork, his buddy had laid out the perfect way for Adam to get Paige alone and ask her about the wolves.
He leaned forward. “I have my truck. I could easily get your bike in the back if you need a ride somewhere.”
Paige’s eyes went wide and she glared at Berg. “I should stay here until my cupcakes are done.”
“I’ll finish them for you.” Berg waved her off. “It isn’t every day that Adam happens to have his truck here, and you happen to need a ride. Why argue with fate?”
An angry swath of pink slid across her cheeks and down her neck.
Berg slipped all the plates and cups onto the dark tray and got to his feet before Adam could do anything. The girl obviously needed a day off, and Berg was a good boss, trying to get her out the door.
Adam was only too happy to oblige. He put his hand on the table and edged it into Paige’s vision. “I have to go to the feed store. I can drop you somewhere if you need a ride. Really, it’s no trouble.”
Berg’s 1000-watt smile lit up the silence between them. “I’ll get Paige’s bike and throw it in the back of your truck. She always ties it up out back like a horse.”
She was on her feet, her mouth open like she might protest, but she just took in a long breath and Adam smiled inwardly, trying not to look too pleased with himself. That was as close to agreeing as he’d ever seen her.
“My truck is just out front,” he said. “Where do you need to go?”
To Find a Mate: Somewhere, TX Saga (VonBrandt Family Book 4) Page 2